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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of    o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-    o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Blackmailed Into Swapping (M+F, intr, work)
by Anonymous Author (First published by TheEditor)



***


                            Chapter 1

     After all that had happened, Mavis Moran mused.  Willie
Quentin still wanted her to continue working part-time at the
supermarket he managed.  After everything---Mavis was somewhat
bewildered as she pushed her long, slender legs into pale blue
panties, adjusted the double-ply crotch over her ample love place
and arranged the cups of the matching bra around her firm breasts-
--she was still willing to work for him.
     As she brushed her hair, she smiled at her expression in the
mirror.  At least, she knew Willie for what he was---or she
thought she did.  He was a charlatan---and he knew that she knew
it.  As she finished dressing, she wondered whether Becky Samon
had kept her appointment the previous Wednesday to let Willie
screw her.
     Mavis smiled more broadly.  "Theft, my itching butt!" she
muttered.  Well, Willie had tried that with her---it had almost
worked---but she had caught him up.  Well, she had after he had
coerced her and seduced her in his office.  She was slightly
puzzled.  There had been no hint of resentment that she had
slugged Willie in the balls and thumped his hard-on with a knotted
fist when he called her earlier, asked her to work.  Well, that
had happened Monday; this was Saturday.  He had had ample time to
get rid of any soreness in that time.  And it probably hadn't made
him too sore to shag little Becky, Wednesday.  He really had the
hots for her.
     She probably wouldn't have accepted Willie's urgings to work
if her husband, Phil, hadn't called the night before to say he
couldn't possibly be home before nine Saturday night.  It was only
noon and Mavis poured herself a cup of coffee, thought of calling
Miriam Carr and Connie Quentin to join her---she wasn't due to
report to the store until almost four.
     But she decided against it.  She hadn't seen either of her
two closest acquaintances for several days.  She shrugged.  "I
suppose I should think of them as friends," she mused, sipping the
coffee and lighting a cigarette.  An awful lot of "things" had
happened among them in the past several days to regard them merely
as acquaintances.
     Connie's husband, Willie, had gotten to her, as had Henry
Carr, Miriam's husband.  And Mavis still didn't know for sure
whether Phil had screwed Miriam that night last week.  Maybe he
had taken on Connie and Miriam both---in the same bed at the same
time!  He hadn't made it clear!
     Mavis almost wished he had humped them both---good---because
Hank had screwed her!  She shuddered as she remembered that
repulsive Ben Glover ramming his obscene cock into that dainty
Terry Lewis.  "Ugh!" she muttered.  Mavis wished she could have
avoided everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks--
-but Miriam and Henry knew things about her that she just didn't
think she could stand for Phil to find out!  Another thing that
made her almost ill was that no matter how repelled she had been
by what she had been compelled to do, she had enjoyed it with an
almost animalistic pleasure.  She may have started out in the sex
act filled with revulsion---but she loved to fuck and be fucked!
     The thought tormented her that maybe she wasn't as much a sex
captive as she had pictured herself.  She fed on sex---and Phil
hadn't touched her in a couple of weeks.
     Her mind was distressed and she contemplated having another
drink.  But resisted.  If Willie made a demand on her today, would
she resist his bed and his lecherous cock?  A warmth fluttered
through her and she frowned.  Right now, rationally, she was
adamant that Willie Quentin wouldn't screw her---but her female
chemistry was responding to her mental gymnastics!
     Becoming more and more disturbed, Mavis decided to go to work
early and get away from her thoughts and memories ...

                           *    *    *

     At eight-thirty that evening, Willie Quentin left his office
and strode straight to the checkout stand where Mavis was working.
He was brusque and businesslike.  "I want you to stay over until
all of the local chain proceeds are in the armored van.  You'll
have to take care of the lock-up procedure and receiving the two
van guards.  My cashier was just called away because of a death in
the family and the assistant manager was given the day off because
I thought it would be a light weekend---right after a holiday."
     Mavis nodded her consent and watched the tall, red-haired
manager stalk toward the elevator in the back of the store to
return to his office.  It had been a light evening.  The other two
checkout girls had gone just a few minutes before; the three stock
boys, including Dell Emerson, Becky Samon's boyfriend, had gone at
seven-thirty.
     Earlier, Mavis had seen Mickey Lewis saunter through, buy a
case of beer.  He had avoided her, had checked out through one of
the other stands.  Maybe he was still embarrassed, knowing that
she had seen his wife plundered by Ben Glover last Saturday night.
Where had he been?  Fucking Connie Quentin?  Mavis knew that Phil
had been occupied, somewhere, by Miriam Carr!
     At eight, Henry Carr had roamed through the store in
plainclothes while a uniformed officer bought a pack of
cigarettes.
     Mavis knew that Hank was with the officer as she had seen
them both get out of the marked patrol car.  It made her even more
nervous when Henry Carr ignored her and the uniformed officer had
checked out a few stands away.  Things she had heard gave her
reason for uneasiness.
     Shortly after nine, she heard men coming and going in the
vast stockroom.  Mavis knew they were officials of other stores in
the Salt Lake City area, bringing their store receipts for Willie
to tabulate and lump all money together for the armored van
fellows.
     Mavis left her stand and tripped a series of switches with a
special key that locked all customer doors electronically.  Any
tampering with the doors set off an automatic alarm at the Sugar
House police station.
     All she had to do was check the doors to see that the locks
had engaged properly.  That left only two doors for entry and exit
the side door for employees and the huge door to receive
merchandise.  The side door could be opened from the inside or
outside, but only by using special keys carried by Willie Quentin
and the assistant manager.  The loading dock door couldn't be
opened at all from the outside, but had to be unlocked by throwing
a series of three switches in the proper sequence, inside.
     Only a few lights were on in the store proper.  A single
light burned in the stockroom it lit the passage from the loading
dock to the stairway to Willie's office.  With her uneasiness
mounting, Mavis lurked near the entry to the stockroom, waiting
for the armored van to arrive.  She wished that Dell had remained
behind---but he hadn't spoke five words to her since what Connie
and Miriam had forced him to do!  Mavis shrugged.  She couldn't
blame him.  And she doubted that he even suspected that Becky was
fucking Willie!
     She wished the van guys would arrive.  As soon as they rang
the bell for entry at the loading dock, she would go in back, trip
the switches and admit them.  Then all she had to do was stand by
until they took all that money, loaded it in the armored vehicle,
and she could go home.  She wondered whether Phil was already
there.  She had left him a note on the breakfast nook table,
explaining where she was.
     As she thought about her husband, warm anticipation pulsed
through her.  When he had called the night before, she detected a
sexy promise in his voice.  He had said they would have a couple
of drinks and hinted at a long night of romping between the
sheets.
     She was startled when a faint bell sounded and she looked up
to see a red light flashing beside it.  The armored van had
arrived.  It would only be a few minutes before she could leave,
get in her old car and hurry home to her husband's arms.
     Mavis pushed through one of the swinging doors and half-ran
to the back of the stockroom.  She turned on a small light over a
complicated switch panel and carefully manipulated the three
switches in sequence.  She stepped back, ready to greet the van
guards with a smile---because she would be leaving soon.
     But the three men who slipped inside the store weren't
armored car guards.  They were dressed in black coveralls with
black hoods over their heads.  In their black-gloved hands were
ugly, menacing guns.
     Her vague nightmares were about to become stark reality ...
The store was about to be robbed and there was no way to warn
Willie Quentin in his office alone with all that money!
     The three men seemed huge to her and she was aware only of
slight differences in height.  Her mind raced and there was a dull
ache in her breast.  From things she had heard in the past, Mavis
wondered if her husband, Phil Moran, was one of the hoodlums!
     She had not time for further, rational thoughts as one of the
men slapped her lightly and pushed her along the passageway toward
the stairs to Willie's office.
     Maybe the van guys will show up and stop them, Mavis thought
as she felt a hand up under her skirt, fingers pushing against her
crack, urging her up the steps.  She had no way of knowing that
the three men had pushed ether bombs into the armored car to
overcome the two guards, then had looted it of about two hundred
thousand dollars.
     "Open the door," one of the men---the one who was squeezing
one of her nervous fanny buns---ordered in a guttural mumble.
Terrified, Mavis pressed a button.  A buzzer indicated that Willie
had disengaged the lock.
     Mavis was given a brutal shove forward and she crashed
through the door and sprawled on the floor against Willie
Quentin's desk.  The three men stormed inside and one of them
lashed Willie across the side of the head with a gun barrel,
sending him sprawling back in his chair.
     There were five dark blue sacks on the floor at one end of
Willie's desk.  He had tabulated the receipts and all of that
money was ready to go.
     Mavis rose unsteadily and peered at Willie who was rubbing a
swollen welt on the right side of his head.  "Get naked, you two!"
the taller of the three bandits ordered harshly, stepping around
the desk to slug Willie on the left cheek bone with his fist.
"Naked!"
     "Nooooo!" Mavis started to protest.  The man slapped her
again, hooked a gloved hand in the bodice of her dress and ripped
it open to the waist.
     "Getcher goddamned clothes off!"
     She watched Willie get awkwardly to his feet and start
stripping out of his clothes, his eyes darting from pistol to
pistol.  Mavis, in her terror, was only vaguely aware that she was
shedding her clothes.  After kicking off her flat-heeled shoes,
she stopped, standing there in nothing but skimpy panties and low-
cupped bra.  A gun barrel was pressed into her navel and she
quickly slithered out of her skivvies and tossed aside the bra.
     Willie was already naked, standing up, both hands braced on
the top of his desk.  The situation was blocked from her mind for
a moment; she had never seen his penis soft, but it was still
quite long.  His testicles were large; the robbery hadn't caused
them to shrivel.  She felt sorry for him.  His eyes were going to
be black and he would have a tremendous lump on the side of his
head.
     The only man who had spoken moved around her and pushed her
toward the desk.  She almost fainted as the cold steel of a gun
barrel was thrust against her anus.
     Harsh, mocking laughter turned her sick.  "Get that red-
haired bastard hard---hurry it up---or you'll have a helluva time
getting this lead out of your ass!"
     "Please!" Mavis implored as she was pushed around one end of
the desk.  She noticed that one of the men grabbed two sacks of
the money and hurried from the office.  The other shoved Willie
into his chair and tied his arms behind the back.  Then he
unrolled a band of wide adhesive tape and wrapped it all the way
around Willie's head, across the clamped mouth.
     Mavis was shoved onto her knees beside Willie as Willie's
legs were tied to the swivel mechanism and underpinning of the
chair.
     "Make the bastard a monstrous hard-on, baby!" the man
snarled.
     With disgust mingling with fright, Mavis reached timidly for
Willie's genitals.  His bag of balls was a handful.  She began
jacking him off, running the thick skin of his penis up and down
the limberness.  Up over the head and back down toward his hairy
crotch.  The glans jerked and perked and she flogged his meat more
quickly.  How could his peter respond like this, under the
circumstances, she wondered as starch flowed into his bone and the
penile shaft thickened and stiffened.  In a couple of minutes,
Willie had a full hard-on and Mavis prayed that her tormentor
wouldn't make her give Willie a blow-job!
     But that wasn't his intention.  She was yanked backward
roughly, landing on her naked ass, legs sprawled wide, feet in the
air,
     She stared in disbelief as the other man unrolled a lot of
his tape.  He hesitated when the third man returned and left with
the other three sacks of money.  Then he squatted beside Willie
and slowly taped his hard prick with the adhesive tape.  Round and
round and round and round that massive pecker until it resembled
an obscene mummy.  Then he wrapped Willie's balls with tape and
secured them to his left thigh with several winds.
     Just the thought of taking off that cocoon of sticky tape
almost made Mavis ill.  It might come off his cock okay, but she
would bet that it would yank out every hair on his scrotum!
     Mavis had little time to contemplate Willie Quentin's
miserable predicament.  Everything was swept from Willie's desk
and she was yanked to her feet.  "You bastard!" she managed to
swear as she was slammed down on her back on the oak surface.  She
was slugged in the pit of the stomach and wind was slammed out of
her.  She was helpless, fighting for breath, as her wrists were
taped to legs on opposite sides of the desk.  The roll of tape
passed over her body, Just at the navel, and around the desk
several times.  Three or four winds of the tape secured her ankles
that were pushed high toward her face.  It was secured there as
the tape was wound around her arms above the elbows.
     It was almost a relief to have her legs drawn up high as the
edge of the desk had cut into her buttocks.  Mavis started to
scream, but her mouth was crushed shut and tape cemented her lips
together.
     "I think we got time for me to fuck her!" the only man who
had spoken said.  Through terror-filled eyes, Mavis saw the other
two men nod.
     The man shoved a gloved finger into her upturned groove, then
wormed it brutally into her vagina.  "Go ahead and fuck her---and
let's get out of here," one of the men finally broke his silence.
     Mavis watched the man step up to her and drop his clothes and
shorts.  She stared at his tools, fearing he might remove the tape
and stuff the pear-headed shaft into her mouth and down her throat
as he brought it to full rigidity by jacking off with gloved
hands.  But he was only interested in shoving his ten-inch cock
into her cunt and dropping his rocks deep in her fearful body.
     She wretched and squirmed as his gloved thumbs pried the lips
of her pussy wide and he socked his cock deep into her channel
that was shrunken by fear.  This was one session of sexual
intercourse Mavis knew she wouldn't enjoy.  While her assailant
warped the prick to her snatch, one of the other men taped up her
breasts.  The gum of the tape drew on her flesh and skin and the
pain was almost unbearable.  She was only vaguely aware of her
rapist's quickening thrusts---long and ruthless and fast.  Then he
shot a full load of boiling semen far up in her stretched swat.
     "Tape!" he yelled triumphantly
     Mavis raised her head as he withdrew his saber-cock and
quickly taped up her crotch, running the binding from her asshole
to her belly button.  Then back and forth, sealing his cum in her
snatch.
     Her first thought was that with his cum plugged in her twat
she would get PG, but she had taken The Pill regularly.  All that
could happen---the very worst---was having this foul rapist's jizz
soaking in her pussy ...

                           *    *    *

     Hysteria mounted, subsiding only after the three robbers had
gone.  Her discomfort, having her feet drawn high in the air and
arms tied down the sides of Willie's desk, became dominant.  She
had the frightening sensation that she would be left like this,
obscenely naked, her breasts and crotch painfully taped, until she
died.
     Willie was helpless.  No matter how he struggled, the
adhesive tape kept him harnessed to his chair.  Mavis twisted her
head to the right and stared at the grotesque mummy of his
genitals.  It must be very painful for him, she thought, having
his hard cock bound up like that with wide strips of tape.
     Time passed slowly.  And Mavis drifted into a semiconscious
state.  Later, she was only vaguely aware of other people in
Willie's office.  She learned the next day that Connie had called
the police when Willie didn't come home.
     Police Lieutenant Henry Carr was there---he helped cut the
tape bonds from her arms and legs and the strip that encompassed
her body.  There were other policemen, too.  And Phil came as Hank
wrapped a blanket around her nudity.  He rode in the ambulance
with her to the hospital where she was given a sedative before the
tape was cut from her body.  She was washed down with rubbing
alcohol and put to bed.  She was more asleep than awake when Phil
told her that nurses had had to shave her pussy hair to remove the
adhesive from her abused snatch.
     She hadn't been aware of that, but had known when someone
flushed out all of that cruel man's filthy semen.  They had
sprayed and perfumed her and that had felt good and cool and she
wanted to sleep.
     Her sleep was deep, but her mind played back, vividly like a
full-color, three-dimensional movie, the past couple of weeks.
Her mind focused immediately on that day when she came home from
the store, the day Dell Emerson had accompanied her to help bring
the groceries into the house.
     Yes, that was when all of this horrible business started
happening to her ...



                            Chapter 2

     As Mavis preceded Dell Emerson through the vined arbor to the
back door, she was conscious of his eyes on her rump that was
snugly molded by tennis shorts.  She knew men and she knew that
the young law student's eyes were exploring her body as he carried
the large box of groceries.
     She juggled the two bottles of gin and mix to her left arm as
she unlocked the door.  She liked to look sexy, knowing she had a
figure men liked looking at.  And Phil Moran, her husband, liked
for her to dress enticingly.  He was almost embarrassingly proud
of her sensuous appearance.
     And Mavis liked men's eyes on her.  She held the door open,
glad to be out of the glaring sun, and let Dell into the large
kitchen.  She paused, perfectly still, listening to Dell put the
box on the breakfast nook table.  She frowned.  There was that one
brief chapter in her life she wished she could erase.  There was
that tormented interlude after college when she couldn't find a
job.  A lot of men's eyes had seen her body---not just in tennis
shorts and skinny bra!  They had let their lust-filled eyes rove
over her absolute nudity!  And, oh, the things she had let them do
to her body!  Some had been really, keenly good!  Others had just
used her for their animal pleasure.  She wasn't resolutely ashamed
that she had been a prostitute for four months.  It hadn't been so
bad.  And the money was good!  But, she would never, never, ever
tell Phil!  That would just kill him and her marriage, probably!
     She sensed that Dell's eyes were on her hips and thighs and
slender back again.  She lingered with her reverie for a minute
longer.  But a girl had to make ends meet---she had had that
urgent student loan to pay off before they would let her have her
diploma in economics.
     It hadn't been too bad.  In the four months, she had only
taken on enough "clients" to meet her financial obligations.
Hell! she pouted, turning and smiling at Dell, a lot of girls gave
it away free to thirty men and boys---and she had earned almost
twenty-five hundred dollars.  And some of the older guys---the
tender repeaters---had been real fun; they had taught her that
sex-play was greater sport than the Super Bowl---and no broken
bones.  She almost giggled.  She had crushed a few sex bones.
Except, the memory sometimes almost broke her heart.  Well, she
had her hero.  Phil!  And she would never sell her body again!
     "A drink, Dell?  That's right, you have to go back to the
store.  How about a lemonade?  It's all ready, in the frig."
     "Okay," the tall stock clerk said, slipping into the nook.
     Mavis inhaled deeply, lifting her full breasts for his
admiration, as she handed him the frosty glass.  His eyes never
missed a ripple of supple muscles in her midriff and the haughty
lift of her breasts.  "I'm going to have a martini," she murmured,
turning away from his eyes that had riveted on her crotch where
the tight shorts outlined the full labia---the smile and crease.
As she stirred, she sighed silently.  She could have him.  And,
with Phil gone so much, an eager tail wagging around inside her
would be scrumptious!  But, she loved Phil too much to cheat, she
told herself.  Or did she?  A healthy girl needs sexing ever so
often.
     No matter how much she needed a piece of male twang and a
spot of nookey, it would take a helluva lot to get her on her back
with legs kicked high for some other man's pleasure-stick!  She
sensed he was hot---aroused---she could almost smell his musky
male aroma!  She could have him---if she wanted!  But, wasn't he
going with Becky Samon?  The young woman who worked as a typist at
the Salt Lake City law office where Dell helped work up briefs,
did research and got some practical legal training?  She wondered,
even though they were engaged, whether Dell was faithful and loyal
to her.
     She would bet that he was!  Right now, he was extremely hard-
up!  She could smell the warm, sweet aroma of his genitals---and
her excitement was increasing.  But, she was resolute!  She
wouldn't let him seduce her and she wouldn't seduce him and cheat
on Phil!
     The fleshy curtains that protected her womanhood felt glued
together and she didn't want to risk getting up, lest Dell see the
telltale traces of honey seeping from her love cove!  "Hadn't you
better get back to the store?"
     "Probably," Dell smiled, finishing his lemonade and sliding
out of the booth.
     After he had gone, she pouted over the possibility he had
smelled her, too!  She didn't want him to think of her as a
cowardly female in heat!  Afraid to skin out of her clothes and
have a lusty sex romp while her husband was away.  Mavis almost
cried.  She did need her cove explored.  She shivered with sexual
misery.  If Dell had just made the gesture, she just knew she
couldn't have resisted; she would have flopped over, flung her
feet into the air and spread her milky thighs wide.  She wouldn't
have resisted one iota as he presented his manhood to her.  She
would have let him take her---and she would have taken him!  She
fluttered and burned and itched all through her loins.  She needed
it!  She needed a man!
     "Phil!" she cried.  She had heard many men say it, now she
yelled it herself ... "I need fuckin'!"
     She finished the pitcher of martinis and glanced fuzzily
around the elaborate kitchen.  The gin had hit her very hard,
after a couple of hours of tennis with Connie Quentin and being
out in the hot sun.  And the alcohol did nothing to cool the
sensual urge that was coursing through her veins.
     Mavis almost wished Willie Quentin, Connie's husband, would
call her in to clerk that evening at the local supermarket where
she sometimes substituted for regular help.  The prospect of
spending another evening of solitude without Phil was depressing.
Would he be home tonight?  He had said he was going to Cheyenne,
Wyoming, on some kind of big burglary.  That was three days ago
and he hadn't even called!
     She let her fingers graze the hard tips of her breasts.  He
hadn't even given her a little the night before he left.  After
three years of marriage, was his love and passion for her ebbing?
The thought frightened her.  She knew she was just as desirable as
when he had married her.  And her passion hadn't cooled, in fact,
it seemed even snore volatile and explosive.  As a matter of fact,
her preoccupation with sex lately worried her.  Was she---could
she---turn into a nymph?  She had read case histories about women
who couldn't get enough intercourse.  She often thought some of
the symptoms paralleled her own feelings of lust.
     Hadn't she seriously considered---if only briefly---an affair
with Dell Emerson?  Oh, she had found it not too difficult to
resist making the initial overture toward the bedroom.  But the
cozy prospects of being fondled and laid had their stimulating
allure.  She had the physical evidence it was so ...  Her crotch
was sticky---hot with passion and her vulva and vagina seemed on
fire!
     Clumsily, Mavis eased out of the breakfast nook.  Her
tapering thighs were like jelly and she was surprised her long
legs supported her.  With both hands on the tabletop, she steadied
herself.  Each movement seemed to agitate the sensuous torment in
her loins.  She shook her head and smiled faintly.  It was a good
thing Dell had gone before she finished the martinis!  She needed
it so bad right then she would have flopped for the Quentins'
gardener---black as he was!
     Suddenly, a vivid picture of one of her "clients" flashed
through her mind.  He always liked her down on all-fours, dog-
fashion.  The memory was so sharp and keen she could almost feel
his penis gliding in and out of her vagina, his fingers gripping
her flanks at the hip bones and hauling her body back, smooth
cheeks of her ass pounding against his hairy belly as he speared
his long, thick penis deep into her passion-juiced uterus.
     She closed her eyes and shuddered.  Was she sex crazy?
Unsteadily, Mavis wandered into the huge living room and pulled
the drapes.  With her mind and body in turmoil, she flopped on the
divan, breathing heavily.  Phil wouldn't call; she just knew he
wouldn't.  And she would be alone another night.  Sure, she knew
several people, but they were Phil's friends.  They had been his
friends long before they were married.
     Unhappily, she thought about them---positive they weren't
interested in inviting her over alone without Phil.  Connie and
Willie Quentin knew she was by herself.  So did Miriam and Henry
Carr.  But it might be more difficult for the Carrs to entertain
her.  He was a police lieutenant and his hours were as irregular
as Phil's.  And she hardly knew Terry and Mickey Lewis.  They were
fairly new to the neighborhood.  Mickey had just taken the
position as basketball coach at the local high school.  So, who
else was there?  You could bet that Dell and Becky wouldn't want
to sit with a married woman they knew only slightly---not when
they could be at a drive-in movie necking and petting.  She had
the intuitive feeling they weren't making out, that Becky was
saving her cherry for her husband on their wedding night.
     Mavis could barely keep her fanny from bouncing; nerves kept
sparking deep in her innards.  God! how she needed relief!
Resolutely, she turned to her right slightly and skidded the
zipper on the side of her shorts and freed the button.  Well, she
wouldn't go hunting for a stud to service her.  She drew her feet
up and worked her shorts and moist panties down past her knees.
Delicately, she combed her fingers through the rich pubic growth
that was long and thick over her mound and fanned nearly to her
navel.
     "Ooooooh, goooood!" she sighed.  Without even feeling, she
knew the pleasure thorn had poked out of its fleshy sheath, tingly
and hot.  She had never made a practice of playing with her
monkey, but it sure needed petting now!  Mavis had never felt any
regrets after masturbating, but she did it on rare occasions.  She
drew her feet up until the heels were against her buttocks; she
fanned her knees and tense thighs wide.  She wanted to live a
clean, straight life, loving her husband and caring for her home.
So, a little playing with her pussy wouldn't hurt anything---not
nearly as much as taking on some man while Phil was away.  He
probably would understand her masturbating, but would never
forgive her for adultery.
     Mavis knew that the seat of pleasure lay just inside the
fatty folds of flesh just below the pulpy mound across her pelvis.
But she would prolong the enjoyment, now that she had committed
herself to sexing herself.  Slowly, delicately, she stroked her
fingers up and down the inner planes of her thighs.  "Ooooooh,"
she moaned as muscles jerked and nerves sparked.  She used her
thumbs to press the thick lips together over the clitoris and the
aching opening to the vagina.  She was so drenched with passion,
she knew stroking the firm flesh of her crotch could make her cum.
But she fought off the building thunder in her loins.  She wanted
lightning to strike at the same time---and that would come only
when she parted the full lips and stroked a hand in the wet groove
and crammed two or three fingers of the other hand into her greedy
hole.  The seething and boiling in her channel was reaching a
tempestuous pitch.
     After a slow rake of sharp nails along her thighs, she used
the fingers of both hands to spread the labia wide.  Almost
brutally, she worked her bunched fingers into her vagina.  Then
she attacked the clit and upper part of the furrow with her other
hand.  Furiously, stroking up and down, raking the thorny clit
harshly.
     There was a pounding of drums in her head, and thunder and
lightning were cascading together in long rolls in her insides.
She was cumming!  Faster and faster her hands flew---up and down
in the vulva, in and out of her cunny.  She was having it!  She
was cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmiiiiiiiinnnnng!
     "Aaaaaaahhhhhh, God!" she whimpered as the waves of
passionate splendor washed through her like high tide.  She was
buffeted and battered by tremendous shock waves of masturbatory
satisfaction.
     As her heartbeat started returning to normal, after the
lightning retreated into her uterus and the thunder grew still,
she slowly opened her eyes, still clutching her snatch with both
hands.
     And stared into the smug amused face of Miriam Carr.  Shame
flashed through her---but there was no sign of ridicule in
Miriam's hazel eyes.  Just faint, lively amusement.  Mavis was
starkly aware of her obscene posture, knees scissored up, thighs
spanned wide, hands dug into her pussy---and Miriam peering at
her.  Tears blurred Mavis' eyes---and still she lay perfectly
still, as if paralyzed.
     "You poor darling," Miriam murmured, kneeling beside Mavis
and placing one cool hand between Mavis' heaving, jutting breasts
and another on Mavis' feverish hands clutched in her sex saddle.
     "What a delightful, exciting performance!" Miriam cooed,
slowly pushing one of Mavis' hands aside and fingering her own
into the upper expanse of vulva that was slicked with female sex
honey.  Mavis' tense ass bucked uncontrollably as Miriam teased
the moist furrow and deftly pinched the fading clit back to full
erection.
     Mavis wanted to sob and writhe away, but Miriam was doing
things to her, again arousing her to a feverish pitch.  The
muscles in her flat belly spasmed and tightened as Miriam
continued to masturbate her slowly, then faster and faster.
     Mavis was panting in short gasps of passion, her free hand
sliding up under her skimpy halter to clutch a breast melon.  "Oh,
God!" she whined and moaned as Miriam brought her out.  She felt
she was being turned inside out down there where her own hand was
diving deeper and deeper into her boiling, roiling cunt.  Her
torso was bucking and plunging, naked ass humping up for full
pleasure from her own inserted hand and Miriam's agile fingers.
"I'm cumming!" she yelled triumphantly, no thought of shame, as
her innards exploded into a violent orgasm that nearly left her
unconscious.
     She was only vaguely aware of Miriam leaving her as her sex-
saturated body trembled and began returning to normal once again.
She opened her eyes to see Miriam standing over her with a couple
of drinks.
     "You poor darling," Miriam repeated softly' helping Mavis sit
up and cradling her in one arm.  "Drink the gin and tonic, honey."
     Mavis sipped gratefully, all but unmindful of her naked lower
extremes.  Right then she didn't care if Miriam gazed at her hairy
tummy and snatch.  She didn't care that Miriam had seen her
playing with herself---had helped her masturbate.  She had had
relief that she had needed so urgently.  She couldn't sort out her
emotions; tell whether the two self-induced orgasms were
comparable to those she got from a huge cock working in and out of
her pussy, or not.
     "Thank you, Miriam," Mavis murmured, sipping the strong
drink.
     "You aren't getting all you crave from Phil, are you?" Miriam
suggested slyly.  "You two aren't making it so good in the sex
department, are you?  How long has it been since he gave you a
good lovin'?"
     "More than a week," Mavis cried softly, tears rolling slowly
down her cheeks and trickling off her chin into the deep cleavage
between her firm, feverish titties.
     She liked the feel of Miriam's fingers under her arm,
squeezing the ridge of her breast.  "I feel so awful!" Mavis
finally blurted, clenching her thighs over her naked, hairy
crotch.  The thick, blandish mat was soaking wet from her passion
and perspiration.
     "Sometimes, husbands and wives need a change of partners to
make them more appreciative of their own marriages."
     In spite of the liquor, Mavis' senses sharpened.  What was
Miriam hinting at?  A thought was building in the back of her
mind, emerging solidly from something she had merely sensed in the
past.  Phil's friends were swingers!  Mate-swappers!  Miriam,
subtly, was proposing that she and Phil engage in the growing
pastime of jumping from bed to bed!  Oh, no!  Were the Quentins
involved?  Somehow, she knew they were!  And how many other
couples in the neighborhood?  People that she and Phil didn't even
cultivate socially.
     "What are you saying, Miriam?" Mavis queried, making her tone
absent and disinterested.
     "I am sure that I could rekindle Phil's interest in you---the
guys talk---and Hank has said several times he is concerned about
your physical and mental well-being.  Besides that, honey, he has
all the equipment and know-how to please a girl.  And we women
know better than men how important it is to our lives to get rid
of those deep passion-pressures so we can be relaxed and serene."
     Mavis gulped half of her drink and trembled as if a sudden
chill was numbing her body.  She looked down at her nudity,
panties and tennis shorts around her ankles.  "Oh, no, Miriam!"
     "Sometimes, it is a big step toward saving marriages---it
keeps them from becoming stagnated and dull," Miriam said
confidently.
     Mavis felt in a state of shock.  She didn't even bother to
haul up her clothes to cover her nudity while Miriam went to mix
two more drinks.  Could she do it with Henry Carr?  Her thinking
had never dwelled sharply on what it would be like to undress and
crawl into bed with one of hers and Phil's neighbors and fuck.
And she had never considered that Phil would lay another woman.
She just couldn't imagine her husband pouring his meat into
another woman's snatch.
     Miriam's free hand was on her naked thigh, like a hot iron on
her quivering flesh.  It was like a daytime nightmare!  Miriam was
very serious and intent about swapping husbands.  And the way she
talked, Mavis was certain Henry was all for it!  How would Phil
react?
     She sat very still as Miriam rose, kissed her cool forehead.
"Think it over, sweet.  Talk it over with Phil when he gets home.
I feel certain you will see it my way---for the best of all of us.
If you should lean toward the negative, I'll try another method of
persuasion---and I am sure it will work!"
     Mavis sensed an ominous note in Miriam's tone.



                            Chapter 3

     Mavis, purposely, had left it dark all through the house, had
sequestered herself in the master bedroom that she shared with
Phil---when he was home.
     After Miriam had stolen from the house, Mavis had taken a
long, hot bath, soaking for nearly an hour.  She had powdered and
perfumed her body, yet a taint seemed to linger in her flesh.
Completely sober now, she knew what it was.  The memory of her
masturbation and having Miriam walk in and assist her into a
second orgasm left a dark thought crashing through her mind.
Shame and embarrassment gnawed at her.  Another thing, as she
considered it as objectively as possible, was Miriam's parting
comment about being able to persuade her to agree to mate-
swapping.  She had been right at the time ...  There was something
callous and threatening in her voice!
     Surely, just having seen her playing with her pussy for
needed relief wasn't enough to give Miriam a lever to compel her
to consent to sleep around with other men!  What the hell!  A lot
of women whose husbands weren't available masturbated.  And not
just with their fingers, either!  She had read the books.  And she
had seen some of the tools that were available---some of the girls
in college had them---dildoes---and used them regularly, nightly!
     Mavis wished that Phil would call, and she didn't.  What
would she say to him?  Could she talk about Miriam's open proposal
that they swap husbands?  Over the telephone?  It might be easier
than having Phil in the same room with her.  On the other hand, if
he were present, she could study his expression and compare it
with his comments.
     The thought of having Henry Carr or Willie Quentin riding in
her sex saddle and banging her cunt with their cocks should have
nurtured total revulsion in her mind---but there was an aura of
excitement mingled with questioning apprehension about it!
     "Oh, damn!" Mavis swore softly, deeply tormented.  How could
she tell Phil, she wondered miserably, sitting down before the
vanity mirror, wearing nothing but panties.  As she slowly brushed
her long, blonde hair, tears fell from her blue eyes onto her
gorgeous boobies.  Would Phil understand?  Would he be furious?
Maybe, he knew about their friends already!
     Maybe her husband had already sampled the love wares of
Miriam and Connie Quentin!  And she was just being set up for a
complete Mardi Gras of mate-switching!  The thought was slightly
repulsive to her.
     But she and Phil hadn't been so hot in bed; their lives
hadn't been exactly a bowl of passionate porridge lately!  But she
hadn't realized all of the signs were there for other people to
read so easily.
     Mavis waggled her taut, trim fanny around on the dressing
bench to ease the twitchy-itch in her rich crotch.  Phil hadn't
given her a full ration of peter for more than a week.  And her
appetite for man-meat was getting to the point where she needed a
lot of
it and one as big as a horse!
     Even though the experience had been distasteful she forced
herself to reflect on it.  Miriam, with sandy hair and large hazel
eyes, after helping her masturbate, had looked right at her and
brought it right out that she knew she and Phil weren't "making it
so good."
     And they weren't making it!---not in the bedroom, on the sofa
in the living room, in the shower standing up, in the tub lying
down, in the back seat of their shiny Buick or in the patio or on
the back lawn after dark.  Mavis started crying harder.  She
needed her husband to make love to her---not other men in the
neighborhood.  Oh, how she gloried in having his big bone buried
in her swat!  And she needed him so much she felt she could just
make sausage out of his pecker.  For a moment, she had the aching
sensation she could use any he-meat---young or old!
     Her sense of shame deepened.  How could she contemplate
surrendering her body---her pussy to another man's cock, her
breasts and lips to another man's mouth?  The brief episode of her
life, before she was married and had taken men's lustful bodies
between her thighs, sex stumps in her cavern, was blotted from her
mind.  Her brief tenure as a prostitute didn't count now.  She
didn't remember she had taken their thumping cocks deep in her
pussy almost as eagerly as she had taken their money.
     Mavis was aware that the double ply of her scanty skivvies
had wedged into the tight smile of her vulva and was agitating her
again.  She finished brushing her hair and strolled restlessly
around the bedroom.  She paused at a window and cautiously parted
the drapes and peered out across the dark back yard.  It was after
ten o'clock.  A light was on in the den of the Quentin residence.
The Carr home was blacked out.
     She opened the window slightly and strained to listen.  There
was faint music wafting on the still night air.  Mavis quickly
concluded it was emanating from the Quentin home.  She stared a
moment longer and worked the drapes back together.  Was it
possible the Quentins and Carrs were swinging---had swapped mates
and actually were engaging in orgiastic fucking in the same room?
Her heart hammered violently as her mind conjured up a lewd
spectacle of the four naked people twisted in lewd knots, each
screwing the other's marital partner.
     "Oh, damn!" she whined, pouting and falling over backwards on
the huge double bed.  Why did such thoughts start her blood
racing, heart palpitating madly?  She DID NOT want to engage in
such adulterous behavior.
     She touched her bare breasts gently and found the aching
dainty nipples fully extended to the point of exploding.  She
caressed a hand downward, fingering the thick mesh that adorned
her pubic region.  She found her crotch was like a bed of live
embers, nearly torrid enough to sear her fingertips.
     Mavis closed her eyes and worked her hand under the band of
her panties and cupped her luscious mound.  She had no qualms,
then about masturbating again.  She closed her mind to the
embarrassing incident of Miriam catching her.  Delicately, she
plowed a finger into the smile and waggled it until the thick
petals unfolded in a broad bloom.
     "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, working the finger up and
down the long, slick, hot rut, gouging it deep into her vagina,
sliding back to the top of the furrow again.  "Eeeeeiiiii," she
panted, feet planted far apart, heels dug into the bed, frenzied
ass bumping and grinding as she whipped her hand back and forth in
her snatch, rapidly soaring toward an orgasm.
     Just as she slammed into it, fingers buried in her cunt,
thumb prodding her stinging clit, the telephone rang.  The sound
did nothing to deaden her erotic pleasure.  A hand left her
boobies and reached for the instrument.  Still savoring the sweet,
sugary blasts of her orgasm deep in her cock-channel, she gained
control of her breathing.
     "Hello?"
     "This is Phil," the voice sparkled over the wire.     "I---
wish---you---were---here!" Mavis blurted, clutching her passion-
greased snatch.  "Why haven't you called before?"
     "Been to places where there are no phones, baby," Phil
laughed.  Then she sensed a frown in his voice.  "Anything wrong?
Is everything all right?"
     Mavis refrained from speaking for a moment as the
firecrackers stopped blasting in her swat.  "I'm not sure."  Then
a boldness crept into her mind.  "Miriam made a bizarre and
startling proposal today."  Before he could interrupt, the words
cascaded from Mavis' lips, "She suggested we join her and Henry in
mate-swapping!"
     "The hell!" Phil whistled and Mavis couldn't read in his
voice whether he was for it or against it.
     "She said," Mavis forced herself to giggle, "that it
stimulates marriage.  Can you imagine?"
     She was waiting for his condemnation of the proposal, but all
he said was, "We'll talk about it when I get home in about four
days."  And he hung up.
     Was he in favor of screwing some other woman and having his
own wife fucked by another man?  God!  She couldn't tell from his
terse comments.
     Mavis' slumber was troubled and restless.  She dreamed over
and over that her husband was slipping between her veed thighs---
but just as he was about to glide his big, hard cock into her
pussy, she opened her eyes and saw the faces of Willie Quentin and
Henry Carr and Dell Emerson and Mickey Lewis, the basketball coach
who had moved into the neighborhood such a short time before.
Their eyes were hot and wild and lewd and they fucked her, one
after the other.  And Phil was watching, as were Miriam and
Connie.  And she saw him fucking them!
     She wakened, gratefully, to the persistent jangle of the
telephone.  It was Miriam Carr---and it was nearly ten o'clock in
the morning.  Miriam suggested she come over for mid-morning
coffee.  After the nettlesome dreams, Mavis was almost elated to
receive an invitation to do something---get out of the lonely
house.  Gone from her mind was the dream of Connie and Miriam
watching her being diddled by their husbands.
     "You woke me and I'm glad, Miriam!" Mavis laughed shakily.
"Just give me about half an hour for a quick shower and time to
throw on some clothes!"
     After showering and briskly drying her opulent body, Mavis
quickly selected a snowy mini-bra and matching bikini panties.
She hummed softly as she shimmied her firm fanny into the briefs.
Leaning forward slightly, she adjusted the half-cups over the
proud prominence of her cone-shaped boobies.  "Aaaaaaahthh," she
sighed with pleasure as the cool laciness snuggled against her
smooth flesh that was still tingling from the shower and brisk
toweling.
     She slipped into a light linen blouse that buttoned up the
front.  With a faint smile of satisfaction she inspected her
reflection.  The blouse displayed the deep cleft between her
breasts in a low-cut vee.  Then she stepped into a miniskirt and
zipped it up the back.  The hem struck her at mid-thigh, showing
lots of creamy leg.
     Before slipping through the gate of the high, chain-link
fence, Mavis paused to peer at the lofty, rugged Wasatch Mountains
that ringed the Utah capital to the east.  They were mysterious,
foreboding and beautiful.  Then she hurried on to the Carrs' home.
The faraway reverberation of chimes had barely died away and
Miriam opened the back door.
     "Come in, neighbor," Miriam smiled warmly.  "Connie will be
along pretty soon.  We had a kind of wild little party last night
and she has a slight hangover."
     Mavis sat down at the kitchen table, aware of a tight,
nervous feeling, a fluttering tension in her womb.  Had she been
right?  Had the Quentins and the Carts had a little swap party
last night?  Would she and Phil have been invited if Phil hadn't
been in Wyoming on an insurance case?  The thought was naughtily
exciting and frightening at the same time.  Phil, on the
telephone, had given her no clue how he would have reacted under
such circumstances.
     She didn't protest as Miriam laced their coffee with brandy
and took a chair opposite her.  "Have you thought about our
conversation yesterday afternoon, Mavis?"
     A tightness in her chest made breathing a little difficult
and the tips of her breasts felt icy.  "A little," she said, voice
slightly choked.  "Phil called last night and ..." she paused to
sip the brandy and coffee ...  "I mentioned it to him."
     "Well?"
     "He didn't say much," Mavis hedged, not wanting to meet
Miriam's excited, glinting eyes.  "I don't know," she muttered.
"Oh, Miriam, I'm not sure it's right---swapping, letting some
other woman's husband do it to you ..."  Words failed.
     "Crap!" Miriam laughed brightly.  "He isn't just doing it to
you, you're getting your jollies from him!  Like I said, it adds
spice to life and enriches your own marriage.  It makes husband
and wife appreciate each other that much more!"
     Mavis wasn't convinced; her mind was still assailed by doubt.
Had Miriam had Willie Quentin in bed with her last night while her
own husband was diddling Connie?  Maybe, as she had speculated
last night, they had swapped and fucked right in the den!
     She gulped at her coffee and brandy.  She was dismayed at the
sudden torrid sensation centered in the pit of her tummy.
Miriam's hand was on her left wrist.  THAT hand had been in her
tormented groove yesterday afternoon and it had produced a
heavenly sensation.  She had never had another woman's hand on her
most intimate place before in her life.  It had been a strange and
exciting and forbidden pleasure!  She wondered if she would submit
to it again, if Miriam made a pass.  She pressed her thighs
together.  She wasn't sure, but she sensed she would let Miriam
masturbate her, if she made the gesture!
     A sudden surge of shame failed to stem the rising tide of
need and passion.
     "You may have some doubts right now, honey," Miriam said, and
Mavis detected a tone of nebulous threat behind the bright, lively
voice, "but you'll see things my way---and we'll all have a
wonderful swinging life.  What's better, anyway, than one well-
hung hubby, than two or three or four?"
     My God! Mavis frowned inwardly.  How many different men did
Miriam and Connie bed?  She may have been a prostitute for a short
time, but that was out of necessity.  She had never, never
considered giving her body to several men---for free!  Yet, that
seemed to be what Miriam was suggesting.
     In the next instant, Mavis was stunned.  It was as if Miriam
had read her thoughts.  "Honey, I know all about those few months
right after you graduated from Brigham Young University.  Now,
don't be ashamed or frightened.  Hank found out about it while he
was investigating the theft at the jewelry store where you worked-
--afterwards."
     Mavis' entire body felt cold and she thought she was going to
faint.  My God!  Miriam and Henry knew she had been a prostitute!
She was speechless.  It would just kill her---and Phil---and her
marriage if Miriam told other people!  Had she told the Quentins?
She had never felt such morbid misery in her life.  Even her first
customer as a young whore hadn't made her feel this remorseful!
And she knew she couldn't bluff Miriam that she didn't know what
she was talking about.  MIRIAM KNEW!
     "Don't worry, honey.  Hank and I understand the
circumstances.  We know you had to do it---no work and all sorts
of financial obligations.  Lots of girls and women do it for a lot
less reason.  Now you cheer up!  Let's have another brandy royal.
Hank and I have never considered telling anyone else---much less
Phil."
     Mavis watched the lithe, agile woman rise to replenish their
drinks. Despite Miriam's words of reassurance, she knew her
terrible secret wasn't safe with them.  It was a club over her
head.  It virtually made her a captive of Miriam, a lever to
compel her to do whatever Miriam wanted to do.  And what Miriam
wanted to do was introduce her and Phil into a wife-swapping ring.
Miriam wanted to have Phil in bed and her to screw Henry.
     Mavis' thoughts were in such a turmoil that the coffee and
brandy seemed tasteless.  This was something she couldn't confide
to her husband!  For the very thing she would have to tell him was
the thing she thought she didn't dare for him to ever find out!
     "You have met Terry and Mickey Lewis, haven't you?" Miriam
changed the topic of conversation.  And Mavis was dully aware of
her hostess rising to let the family pet, a well-disciplined
boxer, into the house.  Vision blurred, she watched the handsome
animal trot into the utility room.  She heard him rustling and
turning before lying down.
     "I know them slightly," Mavis said absently, striving to
overcome the shock of having been informed that her neighbors knew
she had practiced as a prostitute for a time before marrying Phil.
     Returning to her chair, Miriam said, "Connie is having her
over tomorrow afternoon.  We're going to teach her to play bridge.
You play, don't you?"
     Mavis nodded vacantly.  There had been a standing joke at BYU
that bridge was an audit course attended between classes.
     "Why don't you join us, honey; it takes four to play."
     There was that impish, secretive tone in Miriam's voice
again.  And Mavis' mind tormented her---play what?  A mental
picture of Terry Lewis flashed in her mind.  She was a small young
woman---about five feet, a pixie face and orangish hair.  She had
been a cheerleader in college.  Someone had said she had married
Mickey last June right after graduation from Utah State at Logan.
     The initial shock of Miriam revealing she knew all about her
past was waning and the alcohol was warming her body, the chill
was passing.  Miriam was so casual and nonchalant, evincing no
sign of condemnation and consternation that her neighbor had been
a prostitute for a short time. There was an aura of warmth about
Miriam and this comforted Mavis.  The fact that Miriam could twist
her and bend her was slipping into the back of her mind.
     The brandy was numbing her sense of reality and Miriam had
said she and Henry wouldn't reveal her shameful secret.  Listening
to Miriam's cheerful chatter lulled and soothed her.  There was a
comfortable air of camaraderie in the kitchen as the two of them
sat there, sipping coffee and brandy.  Mavis knew she was getting
a little drunk, but the deep sense of loneliness was fading.  She
glanced at Miriam and her mind reminded her---this is the woman
who helped you masturbate and gave you such intense pleasure.
     And Mavis felt no shame.  Instead, a sexy warmth flooded all
through her body.  Sharp flashes of heat darted up her inner
thighs into her crotch and seemed to explode in little boom-booms
of miniature rolling thunder deep in her insides, igniting little
searing fires that licked through her vagina, from the swollen
lips of the vulva into the womb.  She glanced across the table at
Miriam.  "You're a good friend and neighbor, Miriam," she
muttered, tongue a little thick, sex channel bubbling and burning
with sexual need.
     Maybe, her slightly fuzzy mind goaded her, Miriam would help
her relieve the passionate, tormenting need.  Oh, she didn't want
Miriam's husband, her mind seemed to cower.  She suppressed a
giggle as a naughty little thought flashed.  She didn't want the
police dick's
prick!
     Her eyes swung from her coffee cup back to Miriam.  Mavis
squinted slightly.  Miriam seemed unaware that the belt of her
shorty housecoat had loosened and the vee at the throat was gaping
open dangerously.  The lapel folds already had sagged sufficiently
that Mavis could see the rich inner surface of the two globes of
firm, creamy flesh.
     Miriam's eyes seemed slightly feverish as she returned Mavis'
glance.  She is aware, Mavis told herself, draining her cup.  And
her own pulse jumped.  She had heard and read about woman-love.
     Lesbianism!
     Instead of feeling revulsion, she was conscious of leaping
excitement.
     "Let's fill up our cups again and go in the living room,"
Miriam said softly, tilting the coffee maker and the bottle of
brandy.  "Connie should be along pretty soon."
     Lightheaded and slightly uncertain on her feet, Mavis
followed the slender woman who was about equal to her own five
feet six.
     As if by subconscious design, Mavis sat down on the plush
davenport.  If she were going to get any sex fun from Miriam it
would be here.  She watched Miriam sit across the long cocktail
table from her in a swivel rocker.  Miriam's housecoat was wrapped
looser still and Mavis could almost see the full left breast; a
part of the dark aureole that surrounded a pointy nipple was
visible.  As she crossed her legs, Miriam let the two folds of the
robe divide on either side of her sleek, tapering thighs. And
Mavis wondered if the hazel-haired woman was as naked from the
waist down as she was from the waist up.
     Mavis sat for a couple of minutes, knees parted to let Miriam
gaze on her panty-swathed crotch, then casually crossed her legs.
Inner thigh muscles tensed involuntarily, hugging the ripe mound
and thick labia.  She itched with excitement---there---and had to
resist the mounting temptation to scratch and rub and fondle.
     "It's nearly noon," Miriam pouted.  "I wonder where Connie
is."
     A little drunk and daring, Mavis blurted out, "Probably
playing with herself!"
     Miriam's laughter tinkled deliciously in the still air of the
vast room.  "Possibly!  Perhaps I should call her again."
     Mavis twinged with jealousy at the thought of having a third
person there to interfere with possible sex-play between her and
Miriam.  "Oh, let her be!  She'll be along pretty soon---you said
so yourself!"
     "All right, honey!" Miriam laughed and winked.  "Don't you,
really, think having the affections of three or four men would be
more fun than having to settle for just your hubby, Mavis?"
     Mavis cowered mentally and she wished that Miriam hadn't
broached the subject again about mate-swapping.  "Oh, I don't
know!"
     What she wanted to say was ... let's not talk about men; play
with my pussy!  I've never done it, but the thoughts of girl-girl
love are exciting!  Can't you see I'm all steamed up and need my
cunny cooled off?
     Mavis had to refrain from bending forward for a closer look
as Miriam leaned across the cocktail table as she uncrossed her
legs.  Not only did Miriam shave her armpits, but she also shaved
her pussy!  There wasn't a sign of pubic growth and the full lips
gaped, pouting slightly, and Mavis wondered if Willie Quentin had
plowed them apart with the head of his penis last night and shoved
his cock through them and into Miriam's body!
     "See this box, Mavis?" Miriam smiled, slowly drawing her
thighs together and shielding her shorn groin from Mavis' eyes.
     "Huh?  Oh?  Yes!" Mavis recovered her poise quickly.
     She watched Miriam push it toward her with the tips of her
fingers.  "Open it!" Miriam invited.  A present?  Mavis wondered.
"For me, Miriam?"
     "Perhaps," Miriam replied and Mavis failed to detect the
smirk on her lips and in her voice.
     She set the cup on the table and picked up the fancy wooden
box.  Holding it on her thighs, she freed the brass catches and
tilted the lid back toward Miriam.  She glanced inside and slammed
the lid.
     Miriam laughed delightedly.  "Open it!  No, I didn't chop off
Hank's business!  It's too precious!"
     Feeling a blush stealing up her throat and into her face,
Mavis again opened the box and stared closely.  A dildo!  What,
she wondered, did Miriam need one of these things for when she had
her husband and Willie Quentin and Lord knows how many others in
their circle of swapping friends?
     For a minute, Mavis stammered unintelligibly.  It was very
realistic, every detail of blood veins and
glans and hairy testes elaborately recreated.  The shaft of the
thing was every bit as long as her husband's nine inches---but it
appeared to be at least half an inch thicker!
     Again slamming the lid, Mavis found her voice, recoiling from
the thought of using such a thing on her own pussy.  "What do you
need such a thing for?"  Her face burned with a fever of
embarrassment.  She felt a little dirty, just looking at such a
contraption in the presence of another woman.
     "You might be surprised!" Miriam chuckled with immense
pleasure.
     Without wanting to, Mavis again opened the box to study the
artificial penis and gonads.  The testes were the size of golf
balls!  And the hair on the gadget was as realistic as if it had
been taken from a man's groin.
     An amusing thought struck Mavis and she giggled, "Where's the
asshole?"  She was tempted to remove the contraption from the box,
stroke the long, thick shaft.  The skin looked as resilient as
that of a real, live hard pecker.  She tilted the box slightly and
saw that the blunt point had a slit in it---just like the genuine
cock!
     She was so engrossed in examining the hefty dildo, she was
only vaguely aware that the Carrs' boxer swaggered in.  It
happened quickly and Mavis saw it only from the corner of her eye
and wasn't sure she had really seen it at all.  But she thought
Miriam had spread her thighs wide and the stub-nosed canine had
swabbed his tongue a couple of times up through Miriam's smooth,
hairless crotch.
     Then the chimes fractured the silence and Miriam rose to
respond.  The dog remained behind, sitting beside Miriam's chair.
Mavis' eyes followed Miriam as she swept past and she noticed her
hostess hadn't bothered to adjust her robe.  A fleshy, uptilted
left breast protruded saucily through the floppy vee---and the
folds just barely covered her lower region.
     Mavis touched the artificial organ experimentally and
withdrew her hand, slamming the lid.  It felt very realistic, firm
and rigid, yet pliable.  She glanced at the dog and frowned.
Filthy dog! she thought.  About two inches of his slick, bright
red tool extended from the hairy sheath of skin.  Her stomach
rolled slightly as the dog bowed his great head between his front
legs and he licked nosily at his penis.  Then he flopped over on
his side and washed his black-skinned balls.
     Yet, Mavis was mildly fascinated as she watched the slick rod
move in and out of its protective pouch that was swollen with a
knob far back toward his rear end.
     Mavis' attention was diverted as Miriam returned, followed by
the black-haired Connie Quentin.  "Errol Flynn," Miriam scolded,
"get back in the utility room."
     Miriam had returned with a coffee maker and the bottle of
brandy.  Mavis shuffled over slightly as Connie sat down beside
her on the sofa.  "Hi, Mavis.  God, I had a helluva hangover this
morning!"
     "Mavis suggested you were late because you might have been
playing with yourself!" Miriam chuckled lightly.
     Mavis cowered back against the sofa with intense awkward
embarrassment.  Why had Miriam said such a thing?  She waited for
an indignant reaction from Connie as Miriam managed three more
cups of brandy and coffee.
     "God forbid!" Connie snorted, picking up her cup.  "I felt so
damned queasy I never even thought about it!  When I woke up I was
in no condition or mood for hard cock or masturbating!"
     "It was only a stupid comment," Mavis said numbly.  "I didn't
mean anything, Connie."
     "That doesn't bother me, hon!" Connie said, patting Mavis'
bare right thigh companionable.  Then she giggled.  "After what I
got last night, I don't think my twatty was primed for sexy
convulsions anyway!"
     Mavis watched Miriam and Connie light cigarettes, the
tenseness of a minute before evaporating and she felt more
comfortable.
     "Well," Miriam said, as casually as if saying 'Mavis has a
headache,' "Mavis is hard--up and has a needy, greedy vag."
     "What do you expect, Miriam," Connie defended hugging Mavis'
shoulders, "her stud is out of town and he probably hasn't given
her any for quite a few days."
     If the conversation hadn't been so casual, Mavis was certain
she would have felt mortified.  How could these two beautiful
women talk so nonchalantly about sex and intercourse and
masturbation?
     "He's probably getting all kinds of strange nookey while he's
away," Miriam said cattily.
     Mavis was a little too drunk to feel more than a twinge of
hurt.  She trusted Phil implicitly, had never even considered he
might lay some other woman when he was out of town on business.
The thought of him mounting someone else, making love to her with
his dexterous dong caused a surging ache in her heart.  Would he
do that to her---when she wasn't getting enough nookey, herself?
     "I know for a fact Mavis isn't getting all the cock her canny
needs!" Miriam giggled.  And Mavis knew she was blushing again.
She felt extremely clumsy and ashamed as Miriam continued.  "I
even helped her get her gun off yesterday afternoon didn't I,
Mavis?"
     Mavis couldn't meet the glittering eyes of her hostess.  And
she knew that Connie was excited by the conversation by the way
she pinched her fingers into the smooth flesh of her thigh.
     She wished she could get the box with Miriam's sex tool off
her lap without their noticing.  Actually, it might be fun using
the thing, but the idea of a dildo in company with other women was
repulsive to her.
     "Before you came, I was letting her look at my girl's best
friend if her guy's not around," Miriam pursued.
     In spite of her embarrassment, Mavis was keenly aware of the
twinging need deep in her womb.  Somehow, intuitively, Mavis knew
that she was going to be the object of Miriam's and Connie's
perverted pleasure.
     "Let me see," Connie said, opening the box.  Mavis couldn't
help herself; her eyes were drawn to the huge, artificial hard-on
and simulated hairy testes.  The slick head drew her attention and
her twat fluttered, creating an ache in the area of the cervix.
It was so huge!  She wasn't sure her channel could accommodate
such a mammoth shaft and bulbous glans.
     Connie's hand had stolen under the hem of Mavis' skirt and
the tips of her fingers were teasing and kneading only inches from
her plump, firm mound.  The strange hand playing around down there
sent little thrills of ecstasy through her pelvis and her loins
itched.
     Mavis knew, with almost certainty, that these two young women
were going to use the dildo on her---she felt like a captive,
powerless to resist.  Yet, she knew she could jump up and flee to
her own house---but her will wasn't strong enough.  As Connie
scratched a nail against the sheer panties, grating the coarse
pubic mesh, Mavis tried to press her thighs together over her hot
snatch.  But her knees crept apart, giving Connie's fingers freer
access to her crotch.  Mavis leaned back against the sofa, tried
to stifle her shallow breathing.  She knew she was going to be
fucked with the dildo, that Miriam and Connie were going to ply it
into her cove and get their kicks from violating her!
     With eyes half-closed, she saw Miriam rise from her chair and
set aside her cup.  Someone took the box with the tool from her
hands and she was conscious of being pushed over on the sofa.
Hands were pushing her skirt up around her waist and fingers were
playing with her tummy.  Then there was a fumbling with the
waistband of her bikini panties and they were being shucked from
around her taut buttocks and down her thighs, off over her feet.
She was naked down there!
     Gentle, yet demanding hands were pushing her feet up, knees
far apart.  Fingers were toying with her pussy petals, caressing,
pinching, parting.  She turned her head and saw Miriam, stark
naked, holding the big instrument.  She was about to get that huge
prod poked into her vagina.  And she just knew it was long enough
to penetrate beyond the cervix, into the womb.  The realization
caused her uterus to flutter and ache hungrily.
     A fingertip was goading her clitoris, but Mavis couldn't see
that.  Between the vee of her upraised thighs she could see
Connie's amused face.  And above was Miriam, her hands holding the
immense dildo.  She released it with one hand, let the big head
dangle toward her face.  It was so near, Mavis felt her eyes were
crossing as she stared in slight fright at the realistic head with
the narrow slot in the blunt tip.
     "Open your mouth, sugar," Miriam urged, patting Mavis' blonde
hair.  "We must get it moistened; you'll do that with your mouth."
     Oh, God! Mavis quailed.  The thing even smelled like a man's
sex gadget!  And she was about to have it thrust into her mouth.
Miriam was going to fuck that artificial cock into her mouth---
down her throat?  "No, no, no!" she whimpered---but her lips
parted, mouth opened wide.  And Miriam worked the huge knob deep
into her mouth and screwed it around.  She pried it in deeper and
Mavis nearly gagged as the fake cockhead was goaded into her
gullet; deeper and deeper and deeper until the hairy balls sagged
against her chin and the upper pubic growth tickled her upper lip
and nose.  Only once when she was working as a prostitute---had
she ever had anything like it in her mouth.  A customer had given
her an extra hundred dollars for oral sex.  Now, she was being
fucked in the mouth with a dildo!  And it tasted salty and musky--
-just like that man's hot, hard peter.  The only difference was---
he only had about four inches of pecker!
     Slowly, Miriam withdrew the thing and Mavis was conscious of
Miriam and Connie shifting positions.  Then---her ass humped and
bucked.  Miriam was working the big rod into her snatch.  Oh,
good, good!  It was being drilled into her feverish cant, deep,
deep---deeper.  A finger was rubbing and rasping her extended clit
and Mavis knew she was going to have a booming cum before Miriam
succeeded in ramming it into the balls.
     "I'm going to do it!" Mavis croaked, cheeks of her ass
tensing and bouncing for more of the gimmick in her snatch.  "I'm
cumming!" she howled.  "Please!  More!  Cram it into me!  I'm
cumming!  Fuck it to me fast!  I need lots of fucking!"
     She didn't care if Miriam and Connie were laughing, gloating
as they shoved the synthetic prick into her body.  She was on fire
inside and her loins burned, flanks heaved with the effort and
pleasure of having the breeding tool socked into her.
     There was a grinding, twisting, levering in her vagina and
Mavis felt she was about to faint from the erotic, heavenly
impulses that stabbed all through her belly.  Even her rectum
seemed ablaze and she wondered, hazily as she up-fucked her
bottom, if it were possible to have a rectal orgasm.
     It was!  Sensual pleasure was rippling all through her as
Miriam continued to fuck her with the big pussy jabber.  She
wanted to relax and enjoy the cascading waves of enjoyment, but
Miriam continued to cram her twat with the thing.  Then, as if far
away, she heard Connie's frantic voice.
     "Pull it out of her, Miriam!  I'm going to eat her pussy!  I
haven't had a good piece of hair pie in a long time!  And I'm
going to gobble Mavis' snatch!  God!  Her cunt smells aromatic and
glorious.  And I'm going to tongue her pussy good!"



                            Chapter 4

     Mavis only hazily remembered Miriam and Connie dressing her,
after they had used her body for their own sport.  It was only
mid-afternoon and she barely remembered stumbling home.  Her
vagina burned and ached from the plundering and reaming with the
massive dildo and Connie's voracious mouth.
     What was clear in her mind was the animated conversation
between Connie and Miriam as they had adjusted her clothing.
Connie had asked if "Mavis and
Phil would join them."  Mate-swapping!
     And Miriam had said it still wasn't settled---she wasn't sure
Phil would cooperate "but Mavis will play the game our way!"
Well, she had already played part of their sex-game, hadn't she?
But, how much further would she have to go?  What did they have in
mind?  Mavis cringed mentally, her body shook as if chilled.
Miriam had the lever to force her to do just about anything!  She
considered running away---but that would mean leaving Phil!
     She hurried to the master bedroom and undressed quickly, then
showered in a stinging cold spray. Somehow, she knew Phil wouldn't
consent to swapping and swinging with the Quentins and Carrs.  And
what did Miriam and Connie have planned for the petite Terry
Lewis?  Was Terry promiscuous---a swinger---or not?  Mavis
couldn't even guess.
     Even after showering, Mavis' mind felt saturated with
Miriam's brandy; she was woozy and sleepy.  She felt that Phil
wouldn't call again, would be home on Monday.  Bare, she slipped
into the unmade bed, resolved to sleep through the rest of the day
and the night.  She would decide tomorrow how to counter Miriam's
threat to expose her past and force her to engage in sex with hers
and Connie's husbands.  She sensed that Connie and Miriam didn't
want Phil to fuck them nearly as much as they wanted Mavis to
submit to sexual intercourse with their own husbands.  Oh, God!
Would they watch if they succeeded in their devious plans?  The
very thought of having Connie and Miriam watch as their husbands
screwed her was humiliating!

                           *    *    *

     Mavis awakened early, spirits blithe, and dressed quickly,
donning a snug minidress of white silk that zippered down the
back.  Sleep had restored her mental serenity, thoughts of her
lesbian antics the day before with Miriam and Connie fucked deep
in the back of her mind.
     Humming softly, Mavis fixed and ate a light breakfast.  It
was still some time before the bridge session with Miriam, Connie
and Terry Lewis.  She would change the sheets and make the bed,
she thought, as she brushed her teeth.
     Resolve strengthened in her mind as she rinsed her mouth.
She wouldn't get involved in swapping.  She wouldn't allow herself
to be seduced by Willie Quentin or Henry Carr or Mickey Lewis or
Dell Emerson.  Then her conviction wavered as she thought of
Miriam telling Phil that she had worked as a whore!  She loved her
husband and her body was only for his pleasure---but would he
bounce her ass out of his house if he knew about her past?
     She was just daintying herself up after sitting on the throne
when the telephone rang.  She hurried her ministrations with the
folds of tissue and flushed the toilet.  With panties still draped
around her lower thighs, just above the knees, she bobbed to
answer it.  Surely it wasn't Connie and Mavis; too early.  Phil?
     "Hello?" Mavis breathed, trying to tug up her panties with
one hand.  She was able to hitch them up her legs in front, but
the elastic band refused to budge over the lower crown of her
rump.
     "This is Mr. Quentin, Mavis," the faraway voice sounded
impersonal, slightly severe.
     "Golly!" Mavis exclaimed, glancing at the clock on the
nightstand.  Ten-fifteen.  "I can't work in the store today, I
have an engagement to help Connie and Miriam teach Terry how to
play bridge."
     There was a brief silence and Mavis squirreled her ass
around, trying to get her skivvies up over the smooth loaves.  "I
know that; Connie told me," Willie said.  "I didn't call you about
working, Mavis---Mrs. Moran.  I want you to come down to my office
as soon as you can.  Something has come up---something
disturbing."
     "In a little bit," Mavis murmured, disturbed by Willie
Quentin's stern tone.
     She replaced the receiver and hitched her panties into place,
snug over her butt and plush, hairy mound.  He actually sounded
disturbed and slightly angry, she thought, dressing quickly and
hurrying downstairs and getting her purse from the hall closet.
For a bit, she thought that the old Ford wasn't going to start,
then it clattered to life and she drove hastily to the store,
parking around back near the loading dock.
     She entered through a back door and climbed the dimly lit
wooden stairs in the storeroom to Willie Quentin's large
comfortable office.  There was a large skylight and a small window
that looked down on the store.  She had been here on several
occasions.  Willie had had a moderate-sized bathroom installed, as
well as a small bedroom.  Willie had explained that if an employee
became ill, there was a place of comfort for him until a doctor or
ambulance arrived.  Also, he said sometimes it was convenient to
rest for a couple of hours.  Mavis knew that Willie often spent
sixteen or seventeen hours at the store.  A three-person elevator
provided quick access from his office to the store.
     She knocked on the door and was invited in instantly by an
intercom speaker.  A buzz told her that the lock on the door was
disengaged and she turned the knob and pushed.
     Willie Quentin was seated behind his desk, ledgers open
before him.  Mavis could see the long fluorescent tubes of the
ceiling lighting in the store through the small window above and
behind his head.
     "Is something wrong, Willie?" Mavis asked, a tightness in her
throat.  She was aware of faint perspiration in her underarms.
     "Wrong and disturbing!" Willie frowned, tapping the eraser
end of his pencil on the books.  "Sit down, Mavis."
     She was aware of his eyes following her as she eased into a
leather chair slightly to the right of his desk.  His gaze was on
her knees briefly as she pushed at the hem of her skirt.  "Is it
something I did, Willie?"  She didn't really need this job---but
it paid enough to provide all of hers and Phil's groceries and
liquor.
     "What have I done---or do you think I've done?" Mavis
demanded, fright worming into her mind.
     "It appears, Mavis," Willie began slowly, "that there is a
shortage in store funds.  It appears, Mavis, you have been---shall
I say tapping the till?  I hate to say it, sweetie, but that's
what it looks like!"
     "That's impossible," Mavis gasped, tense as a rubber band.
"Whoever says I stole from the store is a damned liar!" she spat
out.  That was one thing of which she had never been accused in
her life.
     "Maybe, maybe not, Mavis," Willie shook his head, unkempt red
hair bobbing, blue eyes icy as he peered at her.  "You do realize
how embarrassing and uncomfortable this makes me, don't you, hon?
The wife of one of my best friends implicated in minor
embezzlement.  If you and Phil were short of cash, why didn't you
mention it to me and Connie?  Our friends needn't steal!"
     "I didn't!" Mavis groaned, feeling faint and on the verge of
crying.  "I wouldn't steal!  We're not short of funds!  This---
this whole thing is just simply impossible!"  There was a nagging
feeling of futility mingled with the needling thought she was
being framed.
     "And to make it doubly, damnably worse, when I have to report
the shortage ... your own husband---my friend---might be assigned
to investigate the theft.  And find out his own wife was the
thief!"
     "I AM NOT!" Mavis screamed at him, the tears coming now,
running down her cheeks, falling from her chin onto her breasts
that seemed smothered in the tight, white silk dress.
     "We sure as hell don't want Ben Glover investigating this,"
Willie moaned, snapping the pencil in half with one hand and
hurling it into a wastebasket.
     The name, hazily, was familiar.  Ben Glover had helped Phil
on the jewelry store theft.  And he had been an infrequent guest
at the Carr home, had played poker with Willie and Phil and Henry.
He had a mean, treacherous and lecherous attitude.  She didn't
like him!
     Mavis' thoughts seemed to cascade over each other.  She
wasn't guilty, but she could go to the bank and get enough to make
good Willie's shortage.  Surely Phil would understand if she spent
a couple of hundred dollars on "silly girl whims".  "I didn't take
it," she sniffled, finding a handkerchief and trying to dry her
eyes.  "But I'll get the money and you can replace it?  Phil
needn't know about this and I'm sure he won't complain about a
hundred dollars or so."
     "Oh, Mavis!" Willie blurted, "if it were only that much, I'd
gladly take it right out of my own wallet!  But I can't cover two
thousand bucks!  And let you off with a stern, fatherly talking
to!"
     TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!
     Mavis nearly fainted.  She was conscious of Willie opening
his desk and setting a bottle and two glasses on the top.  Through
frightened and tear-streaked eyes she watched him pour the glasses
about half full.  "Tell you what, honey, if you can get a thousand
dollars, Connie and I will chip in the other thousand."
     A THOUSAND DOLLARS,
     She sipped at the raw whiskey, barely conscious of the bite
and harsh sting.  God!  Would Phil forgive her for tapping their
savings account to pay off something she didn't owe!  And it was
generous of Willie to offer to go halfway on the loss!  She
glanced at his unsmiling face as he perched on the edge of his
huge desk.
     "I think I can get that much," she said bitterly, more
frightened than ever.  "But, please, not a word to Phil.  I'll
explain it some way---the thousand dollars withdrawn from our
savings."
     Her tear-glazed eyes were drawn to Willie's slowly swinging
foot.  It was almost hypnotic.  The focus cleared slightly and her
gaze traveled idly up his leg---and stopped.  It seemed the tented
bulge in his pants was abnormally large and her mind idly
contemplated how big he was.  With that kind of prominence, his
balls had to be large and his penis immense!
     Mavis' mind was jarred to reality when Willie spoke, almost
harshly.  "We better put back the money as soon as possible, then.
Christ!  There is always the dreadful possibility that if this
thing gets out of my hands, Mavis, you could go to prison!"
     She gasped from the horrible implication and possibility of
being locked up like a common criminal for something she hadn't
done.  "But, I didn't do it in the first place!"
     "How soon can you get your thousand dollars, Mavis?" Willie
asked, replenishing their drinks.  "Everything points to you!"
     "This is Saturday---not until Monday."
     She studied his somber expression.  "I think I can cover and
hold out until then," he murmured thoughtfully.  "As you know, the
Saturday receipts of the nine stores in the area are always
brought here for a double check, then taken by armored van for
night deposit.  Even if, by chance, store officials should detect
the shortage, it won't be too difficult to explain an inadvertent
error---after all, it would be simple when one person---me---is
dealing with something around a quarter of a million dollars."
     Mavis felt a flood of gratitude toward Willie.  After all, he
was going to use a thousand dollars of his money to help shield
her.  "I can't get my thousand until Monday, either, come to think
of it.  And I'll have to tell Connie."
     "Well, don't tell Phil!" Mavis pleaded.
     Mavis stopped breathing as Willie's piercing blue eyes held
hers for a long moment, then he looked away.  "It's a big favor
I'm doing you, Mavis---a thousand-dollar favor!"
     "I know, Willie," she muttered.  And she felt that her
agreement was tantamount to admitting she was guilty of embezzling
from the store.  "I don't know how I can repay you for absorbing
half of the theft---that I didn't commit!" she added one more
effort of self-defense.
     "Perhaps not, Mavis," Willie shook his head, tone weary, "but
it occurs to me that there is one little thing you can do for me
that will take part of the sting out of my giving up a thousand
bucks of my money.  Phil need never know ... Connie will never
know... no one will know---except just us."
     Mavis was aware of a sinking, sickening sensation like a cold
lump in her belly.  There were strings attached to Willie's
sharing the theft loss with her!
     She dreaded asking what it was---but knew she would in a
minute.  And she knew she would do whatever it was Willie wanted
her to do.
     "What do you want me to do, Willie?" she asked, feeling
hopeless and helpless.  She couldn't meet his gaze, instead
dropped her eyes and stared again at his slowly swinging foot.
Intuitively, she knew what he was going to demand.
     "No one but us will ever know," Willie repeated softly.
     "What the hell is it?" Mavis almost screamed at him.
     "Let's fuck!" he said bluntly.
     Mavis was stunned.  For a moment her mind wouldn't function.
Yet, she had sensed what he was going to require of her.  He
wanted to use her body in payment for his big, thousand-dollar
favor!
     Mavis laughed shrilly, giddily.  God!  how ludicrous and
ironically funny.  Before Willie had called her, she had just
about made up her mind to defy Miriam and Connie and tell them
swapping was out, as far as she was concerned.  Yet, now, she was
backed into a corner she hadn't counted on.  And Willie had his
own lever to get to her.  And it seemed more catastrophical than
the threat of Miriam telling everyone she had once---only briefly-
--been a prostitute.  All by himself, Willie had a way to get into
her panties!  The prospect of going to prison was terrifying!
     Who could have stolen the money, her mind worried.  Dell
Emerson?  She knew he needed money desperately to continue in law
school.  And he wanted to marry Becky Samon.  But he needed his
job at the store.  Would he risk losing it by stealing from his
employer?  Oh, God!  Everything was so complicated and confusing.
     "Well?" Willie pursued gently, voice mild.
     She met his gaze briefly.  His eyes seemed kindly and
sincere.  With a gulp, she disposed of the remainder of the
whiskey in her glass and set it on the corner of his desk.  She
struggled for words.  "Just this one time, Willie?  That will be
it?  You won't pressure me into doing it with you again?  Like---
like blackmail?"
     "My God, no!" Willie grunted, tone of voice injured.  "And
don't look at it in that light, Mavis!  Just call it a favor for a
favor!  I've admired you for so long.  You're beautiful and
alluring!  Phil is so lucky to have such a ravishing beauty for a
wife!"
     "Connie is beautiful, Willie," Mavis snapped, rising to her
feet.  Her insides felt cold and she wondered if her unwilling
vagina could or would accommodate his instrument.  Something in
her mind seemed to assume the roll of cold logic---play it like a
whore ... take him in ... work him off fast and get his thing out
of you!
     With trembling fingers, she fumbled at the buttons of her
dress.  A torrid lightning bolt lanced through her, seeming to
start in her breasts and exploding deep in the womb.  "One time
and one time only, Willie!  I'll fuck you just this once!"
     She slipped her arms out of the dress and let it drape down
over her hips.  She smiled faintly as he stared at her pale,
smooth skin, eyes ogling the luscious breasts that were barely
contained by the low-cup bra.  His swelling erection was about
ready to poke through his zipper.  She felt he would blow his wad
fast and she would be done with him---wouldn't even get up a
sweat.
     She freed the remaining buttons and let the dress fall around
her ankles and stepped out of it.  Slowly, she turned before
Willie, clad in nothing but panties, bra and slippers.  Take a
good look, she thought, grateful for the whiskey she had drunk.
Look good---maybe you'll unload in your shorts and I won't have to
screw you, after all!
     "In the bedroom ... in the bedroom!" Willie panted, shucking
out of his clothes and stripping down to his shorts.  Mavis
glanced at him briefly, saw the thick tufts of red hair growing
through the slot of his shorts.  The ridge of his joint was long
and massive, bent off to the left.  She could tell the swollen
glans were enormous.
     She would bet she could give him a few brisk jackoff strokes
and his candle would blow apart.  But she turned and strode into
the bedroom.  She stood aside as Willie whipped the bed down to
the fitted bottom sheet.  She wondered how many times he had done
that ... how many of his employee had found themselves in the
middle of this bed, taking on this big, redheaded man.
     The burning in her channel was almost painful and her skin
had a tingling sensation of fever.  She was about to get it ...
Willie, in seconds, would be plundering her pussy with his sex
log.
     Hands behind her back, up between the shoulder blades, Mavis
parted the bra hooks and flung it away.  At the same time, she
kicked off her slippers.  As Willie turned, she slipped by him and
crawled into the middle of the bed, turned onto her back.  She
peered at him passively as she drew her knees up and spread them,
letting him stare at the sleek, inner planes of her creamy thighs.
With both hands she caressed the firm, yet pliable flesh and felt
wisps of dark blonde pubic hair that escaped around the leg hems
of her panties.  She would give him his thousand-dollars' worth!
But she had to stifle a gasp of dismay as Willie shucked his
shorts and grasped his shaft with both hands.  He had at least
nine inches and it was larger around than a bat handle!  And with
all that red hair on his body, he was second only to an Irish
setter!
     He was going to fuck her with THAT!
     She cowered mentally as he eased onto the bed, on his knees.
Her body shuddered involuntarily as he placed his palms on her
narrow, pliable flanks.  He forced a gasp through her lips as he
pressed his thumbs deep into her tender flesh, ground them roughly
into her guts.  She was surprised at how cool his hands were on
her feverish skin.  Her fanny bumped slightly and her feet drummed
the mattress.
     Oh, God!  She was going to be fucked by this man---and her
body wanted it!  Her cunny was fairly crawling with anticipation
for the insertion of his massive pecker!  "Oh, Phil!" she moaned,
wishing, desperately, it was her husband who was going to give it
to her, pump her twat full of man meat!
     She strained to help him as he threaded his right arm behind
her knees and lifted her rump so he could work her skivvies off
over her taut ass.  He peeled them, wrong-side out, up her thighs
and off over her feet.  And she was stark naked before his
covetous lust-filled eyes.
     Shame was only a nagging ping in the back of her mind as she
again spread her knees wide, drew her feet up until the heels were
snug against the bottom cheeks.  She was going to get it---she
needed it.  And her being fucked by another man was not adulterous
in her mind ... she wasn't being promiscuous. Circumstances
demanded that she put out to Willie Quentin.
     She steadied herself as Willie placed his hands on her knees
and eagled them farther apart and crept between her quivering
thighs.  In seconds he would be burrowing his huge plunger into
her and pumping away, deeper and deeper.  Then, at the climax of
the act, he would hose her snatch full of semen---and her debt to
him would be paid.  With the fingers of both hands, Mavis parted
the labia to reveal the slick, hot rut to accommodate the great
head of his prick.  She warned it to slide smoothly into her, not
grind against dry flesh.
     But Willie didn't dock her hard.  Instead, he plopped the
massive head into her groove, pushed her hands aside so the folds
of her pussy, the outer labia, would cuddle his glans hot and
slick and inviting.
     "OOOOOHHHHHH!" she moaned as the head of his cock plowed
against her swollen clit.  She was aware of his hands squeezing
her feverish, eager, love-sick breasts.  They weren't hard and
cruel---they kneaded and pinched the pointed nipples.
     "Pppphhhhhiiiillll!" she yelled. Willie worked the big, blunt
knob up and down her greedy furrow.  "Wwwwwwiiiiillllliiiiieeeee!"
she panted, trying to get her hands down there to guide his sex
tusk.
     Vaguely, she heard him chuckling softly. She stopped twisting
her face from side to side to take his mouth on hers.  Mavis
reveled in the harsh sensation of Willie biting on her full lips.
"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she whimpered in sensual anguish as his tongue
parted her lips, licked against her teeth.
     Her mouth opened wide and she clamped her teeth down on his
rampant, exploring tongue.  "Aaaggghh!" she sighed as the tip of
his oral fucker explored her mouth.
     Tongues jousted and twined.
     And he found her hole entry with his cock ...
     Her knees parted ... she flung her feet into the air ... she
sought her toes with her hands to draw them up toward her head ...
she expected a brutal plunge of pecker into pussy ... but Willie
worked the head into her ... easy ... slowly ... and her cunny was
craving cock ...  "Moooorrreeee!" she pleaded.
     She felt his cock expanding her ... almost heard the creak of
her pelvic bones as his prick intruded ...  "Pppppphhhhhliilll!"
she screamed as his cock burrowed deeper and deeper and deeper
into her body.
     His hands cupped her buttocks, lifting them off the mattress
until she was pressed down on her shoulders.  On and on IT came
... into her tender, pliable body ... deeper into her sacred place
... further into her vagina.
     There was a momentary grating as the head of his cock grazed
the hardness at the cervix and plunged on past ... deeper and
deeper.
     Mavis felt with a hand ... felt the massive sag of his balls
that were heavy and hot and hairy.  She was greasing him good!
The juices of her vagina were leaking out of her and slicking his
great shaft.  She knew, in minutes, he would be fucking her!
     "Fuck the shit out of me!" she hollered harshly as he sunk
his cock up to the balls in her and she felt his nuts plop against
her uptilted butt.
     Somehow, he had gotten her legs up over his shoulders and had
full possession.  In seconds, she knew, he would ram another
couple of inches of cock into her snatch.
     "I'm going crazy!" Mavis gulped.  "Give me cock!  Pump the
prick to me!"
     Mavis was aware of tears of shame and remorse streaming from
her tightly closed eyes.  But she didn't care.  She needed
fucking!  And Willie was going to give her a masterful banging!
     He drew far out of her and her cunny was clutching greedily
at the head of his shaft.  "Don't pull your cock out of me!" she
howled, trying to hump her ass up to get it back inside of her.
     He rammed deep, into the womb with his great post and Mavis
gulped, sensing she could almost taste it, it was so deep.  Her
guts growled. Her asshole itched.  Her rectum was on fire.
     But that was because he had worked a massive thumb into her
butt hole.  "Aaaaaahhhhhl" she whimpered, squirreling her rump
around, gyrating on his pecker and thumb at the same time.
     Whore!  Whore!  Whore! her mind taunted her.  And she said
back---Fuck you!  I need fucking!  I need a man's cock in my swat!
I have been needing a good fuck for more than a week.
     "FFFFUUUCCCKKK MEEEE, WILLLLIIIEEE!" she begged as he plugged
her hole, corked her sex flask.
     His cock, in long smooth, practiced strokes was pistoning in
and out of her, batting the head against the bottom of her sex
well.  Vaguely, she heard his huffing and puffing as he labored,
fingers grinding her butt meat, thumb gouging her asshole.
     "GOOOOOODDDDD FUCKING!" he growled, like an animal as he
plunged in, his balls slap-slapping against her parted fanny buns.
     She was knocked for a turn as she came and sensed she was
flushing his cock with her sex sap.  Lights flashed and she knew
she was screaming with sensual satisfaction.  "I'm
cuuuuummmmming!" she screamed, bouncing her ass up, grinding her
splayed crotch against his laboring groin.
     "You fuck good, baby!" Willie grated in her ear, pumping his
meat to her.  Faster and faster.  Mavis felt it expanding,
twitching, pulsating.  She knew he was about to cum and wanted his
jizz squirting her sex cove full of his thick cream.  "Give it to
me, Willllllilliiiee!" she howled, locking her ankles around his
neck.



                            Chapter 5

     The boxer has a hard-on!
     That was the first thing Mavis noticed as she walked into the
Quentin home.  At least two inches of his dick protruded from its
thick-skinned pouch.
     Her mind was like a void.  She barely remembered struggling
into her clothes, recalling Willie saying, "One helluva thousand-
dollar fuck!"
     He had left and she had floundered around, found the bottle
in a drawer of his desk, had taken a hefty swig and then went
home.  Miriam had been waiting for her.  Numbly, she had insisted
that Miriam wait with her, have a drink, while she showered and
dressed.
     Then they had gone to the Quentins'.  They were going to
teach Terry Lewis how to play bridge.  Mavis suppressed a giggle.
     She couldn't play bridge---not today!  But she sure knew
something about fucking!  Willie Quentin was a master at plugging
a girl's pussy!
     And that damned dog!
     He had a hard-on!  Big and red and slick!  Mavis, as if in a
dream sat down and nodded to Terry, the little girl ... former
cheerleader ... cute ... pixie face ... orangish hair her dog
along?
     Could anyone tell she had just had a fantastic screw from
Willie Quentin?  God!  He had a mammoth cock ---educated!  The way
he could pry it around and lever it inside a woman's pussy!
     That damned dog!  Sniffing!
     "I'm a little tight," Mavis mumbled.  "I don't think I can be
of much help, teaching someone to play bridge."  But not tight in
my pussy!  Willie had expanded that!
     "Well, who cares?" Connie demurred, passing around a tray
with four glasses of vodka and grapefruit juice.  "Maybe another
day."
     That damned dog has a big sex-bone, Mavis quailed.
     But the dog was sniffing in the direction of Miriam and
Terry.  Why had Miriam brought her dog along?  Mavis worried.  She
had heard things ...
     And he sniffed under Miriam's skirt and Miriam didn't bat his
clipped ears.  Then he wiggle-butted across the room and nuzzled
Terry's bare knees.  Was she innocent?  Was she a swinger?  Mavis
wished she were sober!
     Remorse---over what had happened a short time before---was
buried deep in her mind.  Mavis sobered slightly, slowly, as she
sipped the stiff vodka drink.  She glanced over the brim of her
glass at Terry Lewis.  There was a wild, eager, frantic gleam in
her eyes.
     Her gaze seemed lewd to Mavis.  She addressed them all, even
though she called Connie's name.  "Show me, please.  I want to
know!  I want to do it---have him do it to me!  But I'll need
help.  You'll probably have to hold me!  In my mind, it's
repulsive!  But I want it!"
     Mavis' gaze swung with Terry's.  Her eyes went to the boxer
... to his bag of balls and pointed prick.  Mavis suppressed a
gasp of surprise and distaste as she watched Miriam lean over and
clutch the dog's sex pouch---jack him off gently until another
inch or so of his prick crept out.
     A sensation of exultation crept into her mind.  The dog
wasn't for her!  She wouldn't be degraded and humiliated by an
animal!  He was for the petite Terry!  Excitement exceeded her
sense of contempt.
     She watched Miriam motion with her hand, send the dog across
the room, stick his dark muzzle---boldly---up under Terry's short
skirt.  Her knees quivered apart.  Just a couple of inches and the
dog's blunt snout wasn't anywhere near her sex-seat.
     But the young woman's eyes were glazed. "You'll  have to help
me---make me!" Terry trilled.
     Mavis cringed inwardly.  A dog fucking a human female!  And
the girl was asking---inviting---it!  Her snatch had been sated by
Willie's mammoth prick---and she didn't want it!  Somehow, the
idea of watching a young woman---beautiful as Terry was---get
fucked by a dog was perverse ... but enchanting!
     God! the dog had a magnificent cock!  Mavis couldn't prevent
the muscles in her cunt from crawling ...  "Ugh!" she murmured to
herself.
     Then, her mind struggled with the question.  HOW?
     And Connie and Miriam were giggling conspiratorially.
     Mavis stared.  Terry's sleek thighs were drifting farther and
farther apart.  And the boxer knew what was up there!  He was
sniffing loudly and pushing his muzzle farther under the tender
girl's dress.  He knew!  She had tender pussy up there!  And he
was going to get into it!  Lap it!  Lick it!  Fuck it---with his
red, slick pole!
     "You'll have to make me!" Terry yipped in protest, clamping
her knees together and shutting off the dog's progress.
     Mavis glanced from Miriam to Connie, watched them finish
their drinks slowly, set their glasses down and lean forward.
"Let's give her to him!" Miriam said brightly.  "Come and help us,
Mavis!"
     Mavis remained in her chair, watched as Connie and Miriam
stood and converged on Terry.  She scowled as she watched Miriam
stoop and masturbate the dog for a moment.
     Then they tugged Terry from her chair.  Connie held Terry's
arms as Miriam scooped hands up under her dress and hauled down
Terry's silkies.  There was a brief struggle ... the dog sloshed
his huge red tongue over Terry's taut crotch.  The dog knew he was
going to sink his bone in the girl's treasured gash.  And Mavis
suspected he had a jobber big enough to make her hole smoke and
make her yell.  Mavis had seen animals fuck---and they could
really poke it in and out of a pussy.  REALLY FAST!
     Then, as if in a dream, Mavis watched the small girl stripped
stark naked and the dog was really laboring his gulping tongue
over her flat tummy and trying to swab it between her milky
thighs.  He nibbled daintily at her light-colored pubic mat and
Terry whimpered.
     "Want it from the belly or the back, Terry?" Miriam gurgled
as she and Connie held her arms, twisted behind her back.  Mavis'
eyes opened wide as she watched Miriam maul one of the perfect
breast cones and tweak the nipple cruelly.
     "Oh, God!  You'll have to make me!  I wwwwwaaaannnnttttt to
try it!  But his thing is so big and ugly!"
     "This beats bridge!" Connie yelled in triumph as she and
Miriam tugged Terry into the middle of the floor.  Connie toed an
ottoman away from an easy chair.  She and Miriam stepped on
Terry's feet and forced her backwards, over the low object.
     The dog knew what to do.
     He came up on her, between the out-flung thighs.
     "Guide him into her!" Miriam shrieked at Mavis.  "Hold his
cock so he can fuck it into her!"
     Mavis hesitated.
     "Do it, damnit!  Or I'll tell a few things!"
     The dog's thing was protruding and protruding.  Thicker and
thicker, redder and redder.  And his rump was fuck-fucking
fruitlessly.  And Mavis crept across the floor ...
     "Oh, God, no!  I changed my mind!" Terry screamed.
     But there was no salvation for Terry Lewis.  Connie and
Miriam wouldn't let her up.  And, timidly, Mavis gently grasped
the boxer's balls with her right hand and his dark red shaft with
her left.  She pressured forward with her hand on his balls until
the tip of his cock dug into the girl's dainty vulva, the sharp
point prying the lips apart.
     He knew where to go ... and buried his bone deep in her
wretching body.  His toes danced on the thick carpet and he
stabbed her deep.  Instinctively, Mavis massaged ... jacked him
off through the thick skin of his cock jacket and felt the knob
swelling.  He has a magnificent cob, she marveled, bending her
head to watch him knife it into the girl.
     Terry's feet flew into the air and her ankles locked over the
hunching animal's back.
     "Aaaaaaaaaanh!" Terry whimpered as the dog flung his cock
into her.  Mavis saw the huge knob coming out of the pouch.  The
dog was bouncing it against the splayed lips of the vulva.
     Then he crammed it all into the tight hole, past the yielding
pelvic bones and he had his bone buried in Terry Lewis' dainty,
fragile body.  He humped away in short, gouging strokes, deep in
her insides.
     Miriam and Connie were panting with perverted pleasure as
they held the girl bent over the ottoman.  And Mavis stroked the
black-skinned balls ...
     And Terry suddenly wheedled, "Fuuuuuck me!  I'm being fucked
by a dog!  It's so good ... being fucked by a dooooog!  And his
big knob is stuck in me!  I can hold his cock in me because his
knob is locked in my twatittty!"
     And the dog had it in her snatch good.  Mavis leaned back as
Miriam and Connie released Terry's arms and scooted away to watch.
It was plain the dog wasn't going to give up soon.  He wasn't
going to turn around ass-to-ass.  He was going to stay hung in the
young woman until he was ready to soften and unlatch.
     Terry clenched a handful of her close-cropped hair and with
her other hand, she played with one of the boxer's ears, tweaked
his nose and let him lick her fingers.  She guided his great
tongue to her tits and started moaning and bumping her fanny as he
licked in great slurps across the perfect mounds of beauty.
     Then he began pumping it in and out of her again in short,
spearing strokes and Terry came again and again.  The ball near
the back of his cock must have been the size of an orange.  It was
lodged---stuck---in her snatch.  It would never come out---his
cock---accidentally.  Terry held his dick in her pussy with the
inner tension of coital muscles and her thighs clenched around his
body.
     Mavis took the drink Connie offered her, fascinated,
hypnotized by the uncanny sight of a dog fucking a woman.  And
Terry was loving every plunge of his prick and the big ball wedged
inside her vagina.  Mavis wondered if the sex stick was stuck all
the way into Terry's womb.
     "Is he shoving it into your uterus?" she suddenly asked,
impulsively.
     "Is---he---ever!" Terry panted.  "I'm blowing my fuck-gasket
again!"  She writhed and grunted and up-butt-fucked to get all of
the dog's cock.  "I'd like to have his big knob in my ever-lovin'-
fuckin'-womb!"
     The boxer knew his business.  He hunched forward brutally,
burying his prick deep in Terry and he gobbled a beautiful tit,
gently, into his lascivious mouth and Terry exploded, reached to
grab the dog's nuts in both hands and pull his ass toward hers.
     "He's shooting a gallon of hot jizz into my swat!" Terry
squalled with erotic delight.
     Mavis could see Terry's tight butt hole flutter and spasm and
seem to work in and out.  Mavis felt faint her vision seemed to
spin and her tummy felt all swimmy.  She realized that watching
the session of sexual intercourse between Terry Lewis and the
boxer had greatly stimulated her pussy and it was all sticky and
hot.
     Passion was raging like an inferno through her vagina and
roaring into her womb.  She fumbled her empty glass away and
twisted her body around to lie on her stomach.  She was conscious
of a humming in her ears, of her breath whistling through her
flared nostrils.  Vaguely, she was aware of cool, adept hands
shuffling under the short hem of her dress, of her panties being
peeled off over her tensed rump and down her long, tapering
thighs.
     She had no resistance to the pairs of hands lifting her butt
into the air, pushing her knees up and apart from her flanks.
Fingers were playing around with her hot vulva, parting the thick
petals.  She shuddered as something hot mopped into her wet,
sticky groove.
     "Oh, my God!" Mavis whined.  Miriam and Connie had gotten the
dog's dick out of Terry, had turned him away from the small
woman's body and were pointing him onto her.  She felt her pussy
crawling and squirming as the thick, hot tongue plowed through her
vulva and rasped tantalizingly over her anal opening, up and down
the crack of her ass.  "Oooooh!"
     And he was mounting her!  She could feel his hairy underside
against her buttocks, the loaves fanned apart with involuntary
anticipation.  God! her mind quavered.  Just a few hours before,
she had been screwed by Willie Quentin!  Now, she was about to be
fucked by a big animal!
     His forelegs were locked around her narrow waist and she felt
his lolling tongue between her shoulder blades.  Mavis' head was
twisted to her right.  She opened her eyes and could see the dog's
right hind leg dancing between her legs as he positioned himself.
The sharp point of his prick skidded up and down her fanny crease,
almost penetrated her asshole.  But it glazed on past---downward--
-and speared her throbbing pussy.  His knob was still there,
ready!  He hunched forward and Mavis stiffened against his weight
and pressure.
     "Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh!" she grunted, the sound turning into a
soft, wailing scream as he drove his cock home, knifing it all the
way into her pussy, lodging the big, hot ball behind her pelvic
bones.  And she knew how Terry had felt!  It was ecstatic!  It was
exotic!  It was heavenly and he punched her pussy vigorously and
she swirled into a ravaging orgasm that seemed to sear her mind.
     "Oooooohhhhhh!" she shuddered, back-fucking her ass to meet
his rapid humps and pumps and hunches.  She knew, later, she would
feel revulsion and shame.  But right now she was getting the
fucking of her life from the dog's long, thick, burning prick.
     Pump-pump!  Prick slammed into her uterus.
     Sloosh-sloosh!  Big cock-knob batted around just inside her
sex tunnel.
     "Fuck-fuck!  Fuck-fuck!  Fuck-fuck!" she heard the words
clearly and realized they were coming from her sex-tormented
mouth.  "Fuuuuuccccckkk meeeeee!" she yelled.
     Then, minutes later, she was flooded with liquid fire as the
dog plunged his cock deep into her and flooded her funnel full of
his steaming animal semen.
     Instinctively, Mavis drew her knees together, thighs
clenching, capturing the animal's rigid shaft and large knob in
her wretching and spasming tube.
     Vaguely, dimly, she was aware of his plaintive whining as he
tried to back out of her, but she held him tight.  His forepaws
were on the small of her back, just above the taut, fleshy buns.
And he was swiveling around.  His entire sex auger was twisting
inside her.  One of his hind feet was lifting ... and he was
stepping over their welded connection.  And they were asshole to
asshole.  His massive cock was bent back between his hind legs,
firmly secured in her voracious cunt.  And the hard, blunt clipped
tail was gouging at her anus as he struggled to crawl away, drag
his prick out of her pussy.
     She was aware of Miriam urging her to raise up on her elbows.
It was a struggle.  Mavis was sapped from her super-sensual
experience.  But she accomplished it.  Miriam's hands parted the
bodice of her dress and her fingers slid inside the filmy bra to
fondle the hard-tipped tits.
     And back there ... Connie was playing with the dog's balls,
keeping his cock hard inside her burning cunt.  And the dog shot
again.  His gushing, fiery honey cascaded all through her snatch
and catapulted Mavis into another shattering climax.
     "Oooooohhhm, dear!" she whimpered.  "Myyy God!" she quavered.
"I'm cumming again!"  She drew a deep breath.  She sobered
slightly.  "I'm being fucked by a dog!"
     More than ever, she felt she was a sex captive, at the mercy
and caprice of Connie and Miriam.  And hadn't Willie gotten to
her?  She was his captive, too!  He had promised she would have to
do it with him only one time, but Mavis sensed, intuitively, he
could get to her again, if he pushed the demand.  And Hank Carr
had a lever, if he were inclined to fuck her!
     "My God!" she wept softly, involuntarily pushing her firm
breasts into Miriam's massaging palms.  Probably, there would be
no swap to it ... she was a sex toy for all of them!
     She opened her eyes and met the lewd stare of Terry Lewis.
The elfin girl was no innocent.  She liked her sex.  What about
her husband, Mickey?  His wife had just had her first copulation
with an animal.  Would she, Mavis, be forced to submit to Mickey's
fucking?
     Oh, my God!  What if they threatened to tell Phil anything
and everything?

                           *    *    *

     Was it an hour later?  Two hours?  She had no recollection of
relaxing her pussy and releasing the dog's slick red prick from
her pussy.  Only vaguely, she remembered, stumbling to her feet,
grabbing her panties and wiping the dog's juices from her inner
thighs.  She crammed them into her crotch to soak up the remaining
flow of his cum and slipped from the house.  Miriam and Connie
seemed oblivious to her departure.  Miriam was introducing the
tiny Terry to her dildo; Connie was squatting on Terry's face,
forcing her to eat her pussy ...



                            Chapter 6

     In the safety and seclusion of her own home, Mavis stripped
and bathed, consumed by thoughts of guilt at having let Willie lay
her---and getting drunk and letting the Carrs' boxer diddle her
cunny with his slick pecker.  Almost ill, she washed out her twat
again and again.
     Still stark naked, she prowled through the house and tried to
deaden her memory with liquor.  She knew that if she didn't get
thoroughly drunk, she would cry all night.  And she still had
Sunday to live through before Phil got home Monday.
     "I'm a snockered slut," she moaned with self-recrimination.
"But Willie would have let me go to jail over somebody else's
theft, if I hadn't let him fuck me!  And I was too drunk to know
what was happening to me when the dog screwed me!" she
rationalized.
     But Willie had given her a lot of cocking---and she had been
needing it for quite a while.  And Connie's husband really knew
how to fuck, ball a girl!  She shuddered.  And the boxer was one
of the best fucks she had ever had!
     "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh, nooo," she wept softly, surprised
that no tears came.  "Did I---NO, I didn't enjoy being fucked by
Willie and that beast!"  But hadn't she?
     Her vagina was all soppy and crawly as her mind toyed,
suddenly, with the erotic recollection.  Was she really a rotten,
fuckin' slut?  But she was in their grips!  If they said "fuck,"
she would fuck; if they said "suck," she would suck!  She would do
their perverted bidding.
     She was a prisoner of their corrupt whims!  There probably,
would be no mate-swapping!  She was just a tool for their sexual
greed!

                           *    *    *

     Mavis awoke about mid-morning Sunday.  There was a burning
itch in her vagina that communicated itself to her rectal channel.
She writhed under the light bed clothing and opened her eyes
slowly.  A good night's sleep had been good for her; her spirits
were brighter and the events of the day before---being screwed by
Willie and the dog---weren't nearly as repulsive as they had been
the night before.
     She slipped from bed and strode naked to the bedroom window.
She gripped the cord and whipped the drapes aside, then frowned.
It was raining.  Her eyes swept across backyards---and saw Connie
and Miriam cavorting in the downpour, wearing bikinis.  For July,
it had to be a warm and unexpected rain.  Through the open window,
she could smell the warm freshness.
     Mavis smiled broadly.  Connie and Miriam seemed to be having
a crazy time, just running and prancing about in the rain.  "Why
don't you take off those silly bikinis?" she said aloud.  "They
don't hide much, anyhow!"
     She watched for several minutes, then slipped into a short
dressing gown, and went downstairs.  She made toast and ate it
with a glass of orange juice and a cup of strong, black coffee.
As she munched the toast, she reviewed what she had to do---get a
thousand dollars from the bank and think of some excuse for Phil.
Maybe she could tell her husband that her brother called and
begged for a loan that he would pay back as soon as he could.
Well, he never would.  But her story wouldn't be checked, Phil
didn't like her lazy brother.
     Her second cup of coffee Mavis laced with a double-shot of
whiskey.  She felt a little smug; that story would suffice.  Oh,
Phil might raise hell for a few minutes, but his anger would
subside.  Better that than have a scandal over stealing money from
the store.  And she might go to jail and lose Phil!
     Yet the unpleasant thoughts didn't submerge her into
melancholy.  However, one thing did perplex her---it seemed that
Miriam and Connie got an abnormal pleasure from the sex antics of
others.  Yet, Connie seemed cut from a little different cloth than
Miriam.  Hadn't she lost her composure and eaten Mavis' pussy with
absolute, greedy abandon?  And hadn't Mavis seen her push her
snatch onto Terry's mouth?
     Idly, suddenly feverish Mavis wondered what it would be like
to tongue out another woman's swat.  How would it be to put her
lips on Miriam's clean-shaven vulva and kiss it deeply?  Then dip
the tip of her tongue into the hot, wet, slick petals and suck on
the little clit-thorn!
     "I've got to stop thinking like this," she muttered, shaking
her head, clenching her thighs over her cushiony pillow and
grinding the pussy mesh.  She poured bourbon into her cup and
filled it with coffee.
     Mavis was baffled by her carnal thoughts.  Even when she---
those few months---had engaged nightly in her promiscuous pursuit
of money, she had retained a distinct dignity and pride.  It had
been a necessity, selling her body to men, but now her mind
engaged in all sorts of sex fancies!  Her vagina seemed to be a
ravenous glutton for hard penis with an appetite that would never
be sated.
     "Lord, oh, Lord!" she moaned, grinding her smooth thighs
together to apply delicious pressure on her thick prissy lips and
the prickling clitoris that had turned hot and hard.
     Her musing was shattered rudely by the chimes.  Someone was
at the back door.  Flustered, she jumped to her feet and adjusted
the robe and its sash to cover any trace of her nakedness.  Then
she hurried to answer the beckon.
     Her eyes widened as she stared out at Connie Quentin and
Miriam Carr.  They were dripping wet, still wearing their bikinis.
"You two look like a couple of drowned cats!" Mavis laughed,
holding the door wide.
     "Wet pussies, you mean," Miriam grinned, slipping inside and
back-swatting Mavis' rear as she passed.
     "Sopping wet, hot pussies," Connie amended, quickly kissing
Mavis with rain-wet lips and pinching a tittie through her robe.
"Got a couple of towels for these two crazy cants?" Miriam asked,
patting at the water that was running down her wet body.
     Mavis skipped into the utility room and brought back two
beach towels she had stored there.  She stopped abruptly.  Miriam
and Connie had stripped off their skimpy bathing suits and stood
there naked, without modesty or concern.
     "Sometimes I wish I had the nerve to shave off my pussy
bush," Connie said, taking a towel from Mavis.  "I'll dry you, you
hairless bitch and you can do the same for me."
     Watching the two towel each other's bodies, paying adoring
attention to breasts and crotches and buttocks was more than Mavis
could stand.  "I'll fix you two a couple of coffee royals," she
said, slipping away toward the kitchen.
     Mavis was openly fascinated by the two nude women sitting
with her at the breakfast nook.  The brisk rubbing with rough
towels had popped their nipples out, dark and hard and pointed.
"Did Willie give you a little last night?" Miriam teased.
     "Heck, no!" Connie frowned.  "He said he was all zapped out!
I wonder who?  I have a suspicion some other woman's monkey has
been gobbling my hubby's
meat-banana!"
     Mavis sensed herself blushing, hoped that Connie and Miriam
didn't notice.  Willie had fucked her!  Yet, she felt certain he
hadn't told his wife about it, Connie was leering at Miriam.  "I
think I know whose animal got his meat!"
     Miriam giggled appreciatively and looked away as she sipped
her coffee and whiskey.  And Mavis was relieved; Connie was,
undoubtedly, referring to the night before when the Quentins and
Carrs had swapped!
     "Besides, last night was Saturday---the night Willie has to
tabulate receipts of all the stores in the Salt Lake City area and
get it into the armored van.  I'm sure he gets uptight with all
that money in his office and virtually no security."
     Mavis watched Miriam nod, "Hank says the store officials are
stupid; it would be easy to rob them---Willie."
     "And," Connie agreed, "Willie handled a little more than
$275,000 last night!"
     "With that kind of responsibility, no wonder he had a limp,
limber dingus!" Miriam chuckled, reaching to tweak Connie's right
nipple.
     "Keep your sexy hands to yourself!  Don't start something you
can't finish!" Connie chirped, recoiling with mock indignity.
     They were silent as Mavis freshened the drinks.  Then Connie
pouted, "Willie says the guys are going to play poker Monday
night; he hopes Phil gets home and will join in."
     Mavis hoped her dissatisfaction didn't show.  She wanted Phil
to herself his first night home.
     "Who all is going to play?" Miriam broke up Mavis' thoughts.
     "He said if they can count on Phil, there will be Willie and
Hank and Mickey and that old fart, Ben Clover," Connie counted off
on her fingers.  "Willie says five players makes a good game."
     "And what do we women do while the men are playing cards?"
Mavis continued to pout, feeling a cold gnawing deep in her tummy
     "Why, you've been to their card parties, honey!" Miriam
chided.  "We keep their glasses filled, sandwiches in their greedy
hands and slap their hands when they sneak a feel and play grab-
ass!"
     "I think," Connie said slyly, "that our dear Mavis is looking
forward to a jounce in the hay and having her pussy poked on
Phil's first night home from Cheyenne."
     "Awwww, come on, honey!" Miriam hiccupped.  "Don't tell us
you haven't had enough cums in the past couple of days to take the
edge off your pecker yearnings!  There were all the things Connie
and I did for you---and you did for yourself---and you even---took
so much out of old Errol Flynn the boxer that he wasn't even
interested in my slot last night when Hank had to work a double
shift on Robbery Detail!"
     Mavis reddened, then grinned in good humor.  "If Phil wants
to play poker with the guys, it's okay!"
     The silence grew heavy for a few minutes and Mavis sensed
apprehension building as she peered at Connie's sly smile and
sparkling eyes
     "If you should need a little sexing, Mavis-honey, I bet I
know where I can get you some," Connie smirked.
     Not your damned husband!  No one!  Mavis rebelled mentally.
     "I bet I can get Dell Emerson to crawl your gorgeous frame
and give you a lusty fuck!" Connie pursued.
     "Good, God, NO!" Mavis flushed.
     "Come on!" Miriam interjected.  "You really got your jollies
from Errol Flynn!  He fucked you good and you were still begging
for more long, hot cock in your swat!"
     "Good Lord!" Mavis quailed, absently filling their cups with
bourbon and coffee.  "I was half-drunk!  I didn't know your dog
was going tuxedo it to me!"
     "But you didn't resist," Connie chided.  "You even bucked and
fucked right along with his hunching the cock to you!  Well, I bet
I can get Dell Emerson to plug your pussy with his young stud
prick!"
     "Nooooo! "
     She almost swooned when Miriam said tersely, "And I'll bet I
know something that will convince Mavis to take him oh!"
     "Whaaaaant?" Connie giggled.
     "My business---if Mavis doesn't consent to cooperate," Miriam
winked, gloating. "Right, Mavis-honey?"  When Mavis kept silent,
Miriam said eagerly, "Get Dell here!  You can, can't you?  Right
now!"
     "Oh, God!  Please, no!" Mavis pleaded.
     "Yes!" Connie bubbled, springing to her feet and running
naked into Mavis' living room to the telephone.  When she
returned, Miriam said thoughtfully, "After Dell bangs Mavis, I
might enjoy some of his twang, myself!  He's a young, handsome
stud!"
     "Maybe we'll all get a little sex-servicing!" Connie booted,
gulping her coffee royal.  "He'll be here in about twenty minutes.
Mavis?  You got a couple of spare robes or something?  We don't
want to startle all of the starch out of his pecker by letting him
walk in on us naked!"
     Mavis glared at Miriam, knowing the threat she implied
concerned the short time she had hustled her fanny as a
prostitute.  "Upstairs, to the right, in the big closet."
     She felt helpless.  She was going to be fucked by yet another
man.  And Connie and Mavis were going to watch him pump the prick
to her!  Her sense of desolation was too great to even consider
pending humiliation.
     Oh, damn!  Her sex orifice was a burning tube!  Even her
rectal region was searing, tormenting fire.  No!  No!  No!  Mavis
wallowed in misery.  She was going to be fucked again and her body
was craving a man---his hard meat!
     She was unaware that she was drinking straight bourbon.  All
her mind could deal with---her conscience---was the reality that
soon she would be naked with a man on her, in her, fucking her!
     She had never felt more a captive of someone else's will and
demands in her life.  She was naggingly aware of her knees
creeping apart, of cool air on her feverish pussy, of a spasming
in her vagina.  Her body wanted a man's long, thick, hard cock!
     "Ooooooooothhhhh!" she sobbed quietly, baffled that no tears
flowed from her eyes.
     Dully, numbly, Mavis shuffled to her feet to answer the
chimes sounded at the back door.  She hesitated a moment, checked
her robe, careful it was protecting her modesty.  Dumbly, she
stared at the tall Dell Emerson.  His hair was mussed slightly and
she thought absently he had probably done it when he removed his
stock apron.
     "You need me?" Dell asked, eyes intense.  "Mrs. Quentin
called and Willie sent me over.  What's the matter?  What do you
want?"
     How, Mavis fretted, can I tell you that you are here to fuck
me?  We are going to fornicate while Connie and Miriam watch
because they are going to force us to!  Why don't you take your
viriled dick and run away?  "Come in," Mavis said flatly.  "I'll
get you a cup of coffee royal---you may as well get a little
drunk."  She didn't wait for his response, but turned and led the
way into the dining room where she got a cup and mixed a coffee
royal---half and half.  Buster, she thought, gulping her own cold
booze, you wanted to have me a day or two ago.  Now you will!
You're going to fuck me because I don't want Miriam telling on me-
--and Connie knows something that will keep you from saying no!
Well, buddy-boy Dell, after you diddle my hole, you better not go
around telling other people!  Just fuck me, drop your rocks, enjoy
your screw and keep your damned mouth shut!
     "I'd better not drink," Dell hedged.  "After I do whatever it
is you need, I have to get back to the store."
     "Yes, Dell, drink up!" Connie crooned as she and Miriam
returned from upstairs.
     Mavis noticed that the two beautiful women were deliberately
careless about flashing their legs for Dell's eyes and their ripe
mounds were daringly obvious.
     "Mavis, you'll do it," Miriam said tersely, eyes glinting a
little cruelly.  "Dell's here---and you'll let him! "
     She didn't say anything, felt helpless and cornered.
     "What?" Dell asked.
     Mavis watched Connie push Dell into a chair and lean toward
him.  Mavis knew that Dell couldn't help but see down the front of
the robe that Connie wore.  His eyes seemed to pop a little bit
and Mavis knew he was able to ogle her luscious bosom.  For a
second, she thought he was going to snake a hand inside and grab a
plump, firm tittie.
     "Whhhhaaaaatttt?  Oh, no!" Dell protested, voice swimming
with amazement, disbelief.
     "Why not?" Connie purred, tousling his short-cropped hair.
"You're a man---and I'll bet you aren't getting any from Becky!"
     Mavis suspected Connie had whispered the proposition to him.
     "And if you don't agree, how would you like it if I told my
husband to fire your ass?  Jobs are scarce and I know you're
barely struggling by, trying to save money during the summer for
law school in the fall.  And how do you think the law firm where
Becky works would react toward you if my husband should call---
very indignant---and tell the lawyers that you had made sexy
passes at me?  And I'll bet you would lose Becky, too!  The best
thing all around for you to do is give Mavis a good fucking and
enjoy it!"
     Please!  Please!  Please!  No!  Mavis' mind cried in
resistance to the humiliation that was about to be heaped on her.
She glanced up, looked away.  Dell's pain-filled eyes were trying
to read whether this was what she wanted.  She didn't want him to
think she was a wanton slut who had other women find her a stud.
     "Mavis," Miriam nudged her softly, threatening.  "I'll just
tell Phil---at first ... if you don't consent, then others!"
     You bitchy beast!  Mavis recoiled, surprised that her hate
for Miriam and her blackmail wasn't intense---as it should have
been.  "Where?" she said dully, aware of Connie's hands slyly
unbuttoning Dell Emerson's shirt.  He seemed so shocked he didn't
notice.  As for herself, she felt an overall chill flowing over
and through her body.  Her thighs were clamped together and her
vulva seemed dry and icy.
     A woman could take in a man's hard-on whether she wanted it
or not!  But how could they force a man to screw if he didn't want
to, In the first place he had to have a hard jock or it wouldn't
penetrate.  Could Miriam and Connie get Dell hard?
     "Upstairs, in your bedroom!" Miriam gloated triumphantly.
     "Not in Phil's and my bed!" Mavis rebelled harshly, not
looking at any of them.
     "In the living room, on the couch!" Connie hooted softly.
"It's like ours; it folds down and makes into a double bed!"
     "Come on!" Miriam commanded as she and Connie rose and
started toward the living room.
     Mavis knew she was more than a little drunk.  "No one is
going to fuck me in my bed except my husband!" she whined.  But no
one heard her.  She was surprised that Dell Emerson had followed
Miriam and Connie so immediately.  After a minute, resigned, she
rose shakily and shuffled reluctantly toward the living room.  She
paused and stared at the couch that had been let down.  To her it
seemed to represent a sacrificial altar on which she would be
subjected to adulterous indignity for the obtuse sexual pleasure
of Connie and Miriam.  How could she have ever considered them her
two closest neighborhood friends?  Because they were the only ones
she knew in the area.  And she wondered how Terry Lewis felt
today, after---they had pinioned her and introduced her to bestial
intercourse.  Yet, if she remembered correctly, from what Terry
had said, Terry wanted the experience of being screwed by an
animal!
     She was unaware that gentle tears had started, blurring her
vision.  Miriam and Connie seemed like wicked strangers to her.
She could see that Connie had stripped Dell to the waist and his
muscles were quivering as he stood stolid, deeply, emotionally
agitated.
     "What do you want me to do?" Mavis' voice quivered, unable to
take her eyes from the flattened couch.  If she were going to be
fucked, she wanted to get at it, get it over with!
     As if hypnotized, Mavis watched Connie work adroitly with
Dell's clothes, drop his pants and shorts down around his ankles.
She was surprised; Dell didn't have a ready hard-on---but he
wasn't shriveled with shame and dismay, either!  There was a
certain puffiness in his penis and his husky testes were lifted
midway in their sac.  Somehow---from experience---Mavis knew that
he was well-hung, would have a master cock if Miriam and Connie
succeeded in getting it fully erect!  Mavis shivered involuntarily
as little shock waves of erotic expectation sparked through her.
It was purely a physical reaction---her mind was filled with
revulsion!
     Mavis couldn't quell the ripples of excitement as she watched
Connie's hands on Dell's lithe body, rubbing his muscled belly,
his legs, inner thighs---carefully avoiding touching his balls and
penis.  And Miriam's hands were massaging Dell's lean buttocks
pinching and squeezing and kneading.  Mavis' eyes focused on
Dell's privates as his nuts rolled up and down, his pecker
twitched.  Yes!  They were getting him ready---whether he wanted
to or not!  They would be able to get him in shape to fuck!
     Mavis inched forward, fascinated.  She had seen felt, guided
a lot of cocks into her cunt.  But Dell's penis was a marvel.  He
had been circumcised; there was absolutely no foreskin at all.
His penis, slowly gorging with blood, was like a peeled wiener.
The blood veins now, were filling and ridging along the sides and
top of his thickening dong.  He was going to have a huge prick,
long and thick.  Even his balls seemed to be enlarging as Connie
continued to tease and caress his belly and inner thighs, the tips
of her thumbs just barely goading his scrotum.
     Dell's body continued to tremble and his stem was rising,
extending, extending.  It was going to be a long, tight-skinned
pole with a blunt point.  The slit in the head was gaping and
Mavis could see the slick pinkness from which thick cream soon
would be pouring into her.
     Dell's cock was reaching full extension.  It was so long and
heavy it sagged away from his crotch, lifting his bag of balls.
The veins along the side were like blue cords under the dark brown
skin.  Mavis was vaguely aware of Miriam leaving him and slipping
up beside her.  She made no effort to resist as Miriam's hands
undid the sash of her gown, parted it and lifted it from her
shoulders, slid it down over her arms and tossed it away.  Mavis
stood perfectly still under Dell's gaze.  His eyes were nearly
closed, but she knew he was studying her uplifted breasts, tiny,
pointed nipples.  His gaze drifted down to her narrow waist, to
the flat tummy to the profuse growth like a meadow on her pussy
mound.
     Mavis quivered as Miriam's cool hand moved down between her
shoulder blades, over the small of her back to play with the solid
butt buns.  The hand with tickling fingers worked up and down over
her ass.  Mavis knew her fanny had no sag and she sighed as Miriam
continued to rub her butt.  Muscles fluttered in her tummy and her
rectum as Miriam worked her fingers into the clenched crack and
nudged her burning puckered anus.
     "Are you ready to fuck, Mavis?" Miriam breathed hotly in
Mavis' left ear.  Mavis didn't respond as she continued to stare
at Dell's prodigious prod.  Her cunny and vulva still felt
sandpaper dry.  She had doubts she could take Dell's prick easily-
--it was so huge!  She just knew, being dry in her channel, Dell
was going to hurt her.
     The moment of reckoning, time of coital truth was nearly at
hand, Mavis knew.  Clear sticky syrup was oozing from the slot in
the end of Dell's prick.  He was ready to fuck!  His nostrils were
flaring, then narrowing and she knew he could smell the warm aroma
of her pussy, dry or not!
     "Ready for a good clicking, honey?" Miriam whispered again,
flicking her tongue into Mavis' ear.  "He has a magnificent peter,
doesn't he, honey?  Dell will give you all the cock you can
handle!"  Mavis felt the tip of Miriam's finger inserted slightly
in her hot asshole.  She knew that Dell's prick, once he got it
all the way into her and it was well-lubricated---would make her
snatch steam.
     "Ready to get on the couch, honey and let Dell fuck you?"
Miriam pursued.  And her finger wormed deeper into her rectum---
and Mavis felt a release of juices in her pussy.  The inner petals
of her vulva were itching and burning deliciously.  She could
hardly stand the erotic flushes that were being ignited all
through her pelvic region.
     "Let's get on the couch, honey, and let Dell give you a good
pussy-plundering!" Miriam urged her forward.
     It was time.  Mavis eased onto the couch on her knees and
crawled toward the center of the couch with Miriam's finger still
sunk deep in her rectal cavity.  She hesitated, whined softly as
Miriam worked her finger around the burning cavern, then extracted
it.  Without further urging, Mavis swiveled her body about and
turned onto her back.  Miriam touched the back of her left knee.
Obediently, Mavis drew her feet toward her fanny, pulled her knees
up and spread her thighs wide, presenting her hairy target for
Dell's meat spear.
     Mavis waited for him, eyes half-closed, lids heavy, staring
at the ceiling.  She sensed Miriam moving around, above her head.
Then Miriam's hands touched her face, moved down to cup her hot
tits.  She heard Dell rustling forward, felt his timid weight on
the side of the couch.
     In just a minute, he would be ... whatever else, Mavis
thought, I won't reach down there, take hold of his cock and guide
it into me!
     Mavis stretched her arms straight out from her body and
gripped the edge of the couch with her fingers.  Oh, God! she
wished Miriam would stop playing with her breasts, fanning her
passion!  She wouldn't help Dell slide his prick into her!  She
gripped harder.  She sensed him easing between her drawn-up
thighs.  She wouldn't look at him.  The muscles in her buttocks
tensed as his hairy legs gently brushed her sleek inner thighs.
Would he be gentle when he stabbed his cock into her vagina?  Or
would he be like a maddened bull and slam the hard, bludgeoning
meat into her dainty body tissues?
     Mavis sensed Dell getting closer and closed her eyes.  She
thought she could feel the intense heat of his genital organ on
her own feverish pussy.  In seconds, she thought, body tensing, he
will be putting it in me and fucking me!  I won't fuck him back!
she vowed, biting her lower lip roughly.  I just won't cooperate
and give him the satisfaction of matching his fuck-strokes with my
own!
     She could hear his rapid breathing somewhere a few inches
above her face.  She trembled as one of his hands rested on her
bare shoulder, fingers gripped her tender flesh.  Her knees
quivered as he adjusted his torso between her legs and she felt a
hand fumbling down there.  Mavis felt a thumb parting the labia,
spreading them so the head of his cock could plow, unobstructed
into her furrow.
     "Gently," Mavis murmured, almost pleading, as Dell wedged the
blunt knob of his prick firmly into her sex groove.  The heat of
him was intense as his prick grew bolder, probing nearer and
nearer the entry to her glory tunnel.  She winced as he gripped
her shoulder more firmly.  His hand was still between their bodies
and she knew he must be gripping his shaft near: the base, trying
to aim it accurately at the fluttering entry to her body.
"Please!  Be gentle!" Mavis begged, wishing she could shrink her
ass away from his cock that was like a red hot poker working
around in her vulva.
     "OOOOOOOOOHHHH," Mavis sighed.  The thick point of Dell's
prick was nudging at her hole.  One thing, she thought, there
won't be that rolled-back fold of foreskin to create added
friction if he does bang his cock into me hard.
     His hand was gone from between their bellies and was on her
other shoulder.  She breathed deeply and relaxed slightly as Dell
hesitated.  Then his knees nudged forward toward the splayed
loaves of her ass and the coarse hair on his thighs grated against
her own tender legs.
     She sighed, almost with relief, as Dell slowly slid his
massive penis into her vagina.  He was going to be gentle.  He
wasn't going to bang it into her.
     Mavis was ever so grateful that Dell was gentle.  She even
spread her knees wider to give him greater access, more freedom as
he burrowed and drilled his slick-skinned prick deeper and deeper
into her sex tube.  She was so relieved that he wasn't going to
attack her like a butcher---that her sphincter muscles contracted
and expanded around his shaft.
     But I won't fuck back, she told herself as he delved his cock
deeper into her now-lubricated snatch.  "Uuununhhhhhhghggghhh,"
she moaned as the head of his bone nudged her cervix and slid on
past toward her womb.  He does have a mammoth instrument, she
gulped silently.  He will really fuck me deep!  Every muscle in
her body twinged, every nerve tingled as he drew far out and
slowly slid his cock back into her until his big balls slap-
slapped against her uptilted fanny.  Their combined juices were
seeping out of her burning swat.
     He gave her four or five long, gentle pumps, stroking his
cock into her.  Mavis could smell the musky aroma of cock socked
into hot cunt strong in her nostrils.  She wiggled under him,
spread her knees wider as he began to settle into a steady coital
rhythm, pumping the prick to her, socking the hard head against
the bottom of her canny.
     "Aaaaaaahhhhh," she sighed as his pace quickened.  There were
soft wet sounds down between their torsos as he rocked the cock to
her.  Mavis was aware that her feet had lifted from the couch and
were waving around high above Dell's humping rump.  She knew that
this lifted her flattened crotch to him, let him plunge his prick
another inch into her sex cavern.  And he was fucking her faster
and she was ...
     "CUUUUMMMMIIIIIINNNNNG!" Mavis shrilled, her ass pumping
wildly.  He kept plunging it in and out of her as she orgasmed
like a primitive savage.  "Giiiiiivvvveeeeee it to me!" she
panted, growled, screamed, begged.  "Fuck it to me!"
     She kept climaxing, cunt muscles spasming and wrenching with
glorious pleasure.  Mavis sensed that Connie had moved toward her
bottom and had her feet, pushing them far back toward her head as
Dell continued to plunder her cunt with his thudding cock.
     She almost fainted with erotic delight as he slammed in deep
and began shooting her snatch full of his thick, boiling jizz.
And she was fucking back, her pussy glorying in the massive prick
that was crammed deep into her body and was gushing love juice
into her.
     Mavis was pleasurably exhausted.  Her mind seemed to swirl in
euphoria; she felt dreamy and relaxed.  "Oooooo, ohhhhh," she
murmured, not wanting Dell to take his cock out of her cunt where
he had let it soak in her sex cauldron for several minutes---even
after she had siphoned out all his jizz.
     Mavis turned her head and opened her eyes slightly.  Miriam
and Connie had the naked Dell flat on his back in the living room
floor and Connie was squatting down on him as Miriam held his sex
post perpendicular to his heaving body so Connie could capture it
with her thick-lipped pussy.
     Mavis closed her eyes.  She would sleep and let Miriam and
Connie have their way with the young virile Dell.  They could take
turns fucking him ...
     But she would sleep ...



                            Chapter 7

     Hank and Miriam Carr were in the Moran living room when Phil
drove in the driveway and Mavis had no opportunity to talk to her
husband, let alone take the time to choose her words and determine
just how much she could tell him---about the things that had
happened to her.
     "We got a poker game tonight at Willie's," Hank said, sipping
the drink Mavis had mixed.  "You'll make it, won't you?  We won't
play too late."
     "I reckon," Phil grinned, patting Mavis on the bottom.  He
flattened his dark brown hair with the palm of his right hand.
"When does the game start?"
     "In about an hour," Hank said.  "Gives you time to eat and
come over."
     But even after Miriam and Hank had gone, with Phil nibbling
on cold beef sandwiches, washing it down with bourbon and soda,
Mavis couldn't think of a way to open the conversation that was
weighing on her mind.
     Absently, it seemed, Phil finally said, "What's your feeling
about what you mentioned to me on the phone?"
     "What?  I don't know," Mavis muttered, nerves jangling.  "I
don't think so ..."
     "Why?" Phil grinned.  "Don't tell me you can't bear the
thought of a little strange puntang?  Just talking, though, I
think Connie and Miriam might have a pretty hot tail between those
fancy legs.  And they're kinda obvious, pushing it at a guy
sometimes.  And Hank and Willie---I know they're aware of it---
don't seem to be perturbed by the idea their wives might put out
between strange sheets."
     Arching an eyebrow, Mavis challenged, "If you think you want
to dip your wick in their lamps---go ahead!"
     Phil laughed easily, "I was thinking of a different analogy--
-darting my stinger into their blossoms!"
     "Then dip your stinger in their blossoms," Mavis joined her
husband's soft laughter.  She loved his infectious grin and
sparkling brown eyes.  Truly, she didn't care if he fucked Connie
and Miriam!  Bitterness gnawed at her elation for a second.  How
could she resent her husband's having an affair with other women--
-after what she had done?  And she had enjoyed it---once the
penile penetration had been accomplished and hard, experienced
cock was inserted deep into her hungry vagina.
     Quietly, Mavis said, replenishing her husband's drink, "If
they give you an opportunity to fuck them---don't turn it down."
She hoped bitterness and deceit weren't apparent in her voice.
     Phil laughed and clutched a firm butt cheek in one hand as he
took the drink from her hand that trembled slightly.  "I doubt
that they can give a guy the quality of nookey you can."
     "Thanks for the dubious compliment," Mavis smiled gratefully.
     "You're a good piece of ass," Phil nodded, reaching under the
hem of her miniskirt and stroking her inner thighs, caressing the
pulpy fruit of her woman---hood and tracing the crack of her ass
with his closed fingers.
     "Want a sample now?" Mavis teased, grinding her pelvis
coitally against his hand.
     "Let's go play a few hands of poker---and I'll fill your
tight little sex maw later with lots and lots of eager cock!"
     Mavis smiled good-naturedly, "You'd rather go play 'poke her'
with cards than stay home and poke me with prick!  I don't
understand how you can prefer chips around a table with men when
you have a red-hot chippie at home just dying to flop into bed
naked and fuck you to sleep?"
     She was surprised she didn't cringe as she labeled herself a
chippie for her husband.  After all, that's what she was!  First
with Willie, then the boxer, then with Dell Emerson!
     Who would be next, she fretted as she accompanied her husband
out of the house and across the back yard toward the Quentin
residence.
     "Do you want to swap---really---Phil? she frowned, taking his
arm with both hands and crushing her right breast against his hard
biceps.
     "It's a thought," Phil replied, slowly, thoughtfully.  "I
don't know.  I've thought about it a lot since we talked on the
phone.  I don't think I'd have any trouble banging Connie and
Miriam---mental hang-ups, that is.  But I have jealous
palpitations when I consider you naked in someone else's arms and
him pistoning his prick into your snug pussy."
     Mavis cringed.  If you only knew, she wailed mentally, that
in the past couple of days Willie had had
me, a dog flicked me: Dell laid me.  Oh, I just couldn't bear to
have you find that out!
     Softly she said, "If you want to shag Connie and Miriam---I
won't think any the less of you, darling.  I've heard that a man
sometimes needs some strange poontang.
     "But, if I did," Phil said thoughtfully, pausing in the
Quentin backyard to light a cigarette, "Willie and Hank will want
to bang your ass!"
     Mavis was startled by the stern, almost vicious tone of her
husband's voice.  I'm glad you don't know, she thought, looking
away, eyes peering at the abundance of stars in the clear sky.
And you'll never arrow, no matter what I have to do!  She knew
this admission to herself had put her life in bondage as long as
she and Phil remained in Salt Lake City where Connie and Miriam
and Willie and Henry---and who knew how many others---could get to
her!  She was a captive just as sure as if she were locked in a
jail cell!
     Connie opened the door and stood peering at them, without a
word, for several seconds.  She had changed into a one-piece
sunsuit and looked very leggy and appetizing.  The tight bodice
accented her full breasts.
     "Come in, characters," Connie smiled slowly, and Mavis was
aware that Connie's eyes were on Phil.  As they passed by the den,
Connie took Phil's arm, stopped them.  "Phil and Mavis are here,"
Connie called.  A table was in the center of the room.  Poker
chips had been cut into stacks in front of each chair.
     Mavis saw Willie and Hank immediately, leaning against the
fireplace.  Then she saw Ben Glover, Mickey Lewis---and Dell
Emerson---lounging in easy chairs positioned about the room.
"Come and join the gals, Mavis; let Phil have a drink before they
start their pasteboard carnage."
     Mavis nodded to others sitting at the dining room table.
There was Miriam and Terry and young Becky.  If it worked out that
way, everyone could be mated with the exception of Ben Glover.
God! she thought, he has lecherous eyes!
     Mavis nodded to the other girls as Connie brought a large
pitcher from the refrigerator.  "Screwdrivers," Connie smiled,
filling glasses on a tray in the center of the table.
     Mavis glanced about.  Terry's eyes seemed to glitter and
Mavis speculated that the little doll had had quite a bit to drink
before she and Mickey arrived.  And Becky, the trim strawberry
blonde, seemed wound up tight.  Her eyes seemed furtive and
fearful.  Mavis wondered if Connie and Miriam had something
planned for her and whether Becky was aware of it.
     Vaguely, Mavis could hear the deep murmur of the men's voices
and the clatter of chips as they were tossed into the pot.  There
were six of them playing.  Willie had always contended five made a
good game.  If they had known that there would be six, she and
Phil could have stayed at home.  She shrugged away her discontent
and tried to concentrate on the girls' harmless conversation about
clothes and the drudgery of housekeeping and meals and the lack of
variety and excitement in married life.
     Maybe Becky and Terry missed the subtle inference but it was
clear to Mavis that Connie and Miriam were alluding to husband-
swapping.  She frowned.  It seemed, lately, that Miriam and Connie
were obsessed with the topic of hopping into bed with some other
woman's husband.
     She made up her mind that she wasn't going to drink much, was
going to stay sober so she would be keenly aware of whatever
happened---to others as well as to herself.  Little Becky was
beginning to feel the effects of the vodka.  And Terry was
drinking faster and the alcohol was beginning to belt her hard; it
was evident in her slightly slurred speech and brassy tone.
     Mavis eased away from the table and strolled about the room,
carrying her drink, but not touching it.  No one paid attention to
her and she drifted toward the den to lounge in the archway.  Ben
Glover's eyes picked her immediately and fastened on her legs
below the miniskirt.  Mavis stifled a shudder and wished she had
worn slacks!  His eyes seemed to strip her naked!
     "Has your company beefed up its security---especially on
Saturday nights, Willie?" Glover asked tossing his hand into the
discards.
     Mavis watched Willie nod negatively.  "The brass is satisfied
that the armored van guards are sufficient.  The van rolls up at
ten-fifteen every Saturday night with three armed guards.  I help
one of them load the money and it's their responsibility."
     Her eyes swung to Phil who blew her a silent kiss and winked
as he said, "Ben and I both know that your insurance premium and
bond rates would be sharply reduced if you had guards on hand
through the evening as receipts arrive from the other stores."
     "So?" Willie shrugged, "tell it to the brass."
     The men chuckled, paused in their play to sip their drinks
and light cigarettes.
     "It would be a cinch," Henry Carr said, "to knock you over,
Willie.  Even amateurs could hold you up and probably get away
clean.  For one thing, the police department---we have discussed
it and fretted about it---would have damned little to go on.
Hell, there isn't even a record of serial numbers of bills.  All
that cash and checks are dumped in bags by other stores after a
fast tabulation and brought to you."
     "You're right," Willie nodded.  "And it makes me a little
nervous.  I guess store officials think the practice is unknown
and they rely on this against the probability of robbery."
     "Bullshit!" Glover shuffled the cards, offered the deck for
cut, buried a card and dealt.  "That kind of secret can't be
kept!"
     "Tell it to the brass!" Willie said, opening with a blue
chip.
     The casual discussion of armed robbery had a chilling effect
on Mavis and she gulped her drink nervously.
     "Another round, Connie!" Willie called, interrupting the
conversation.  In an instant Miriam slipped past Mavis and into
the room.  "I'll accommodate you," she said.  "Connie went
upstairs to wee-wee."
     Mavis watched Miriam, wearing snug shorts and a loose middle
blouse, strut to the bar with the men's glasses and mix drinks.
The men paused in their play until Miriam returned to hand them
fresh high-balls.  She didn't bother circling the table to serve,
but leaned out over the table---and the blouse sagged and Miriam
wasn't wearing a damned thing under it.  Her opulent breasts were
clearly visible to any man
who wanted to look.  "Get your hand off my bottom---whoever you
are!" she challenged.  And Mavis---she couldn't tell who---knew
that either Ben Glover or Mickey Lewis was sneaking a feel of
Miriam's legs and ass!
     But Miriam didn't bolt away, seemed to enjoy the men's
leering at her breasts under the gaping blouse.  Then the hand
must have been withdrawn from her fanny and she backed away and
set the tray on a table next to an easy chair.
     Mavis watched Miriam circle the table slowly as the men
resumed their game.  She didn't care that Miriam stopped behind
Phil, leaned forward until a full breast rested on his shoulder.
Mavis winked quickly when Phil glanced at her, questioningly.  Let
Miriam throw her sex at Phil, she mused.  I don't care.  She
actually anticipated seeing her husband reach up and tweak
Miriam's nipple.  But he just folded his cards on the hand of stud
and sat unmoving.
     She wished she could have heard what Miriam whispered to
Phil; he scowled slightly.  Mavis finished her drink as Miriam
wiggled against Phil, actually forced his arm around her narrow
waist.  Then she edged herself onto his lap, ground her fanny---
around and around---against Phil's groin.
     How obvious and blatant and wanton can a woman act? Mavis
wondered, frowning slightly.  Miriam was doing her best to give
Phil a dry fuck!  Mavis had the eerie sensation things were going
to happen before the night was much older.
     Maybe Phil would get a piece of ass---strange stuff.  Mavis
pouted.  Maybe he has screwed other women since they had been
married, but tonight would be the first that she would know about.
Herself?  Mavis' fingers of her left hand toyed absently with the
end of a long blonde tress that trailed over her left shoulder.
Would she be subjected to some man's animal, sexual lust?  She
shivered as if the room had grown suddenly cold.  The muscles in
her tummy, deep in her loins, seemed to coil with hungry
expectation---all against Mavis' troubled will.
     My God! Mavis fretted mentally, her eyes drifting to her
husband who was still getting the coital rubdown from Miriam's
teasing, goading swiveling butt in his lap.  The others around the
table had paused in their play to leer at Miriam trying to arouse
Phil to sexual frenzy---and a possible orgy right there in the
Quentin den.
     My husband will flick Miriam tonight! the thought seemed to
explode in her mind.  And I wanted his cock in me so much!  Then
an objective thought was sharp and scintillating in her mind.  She
would like to see Phil's face when he saw Miriam's hairless pussy
and shoved his prick into that meaty maw.  She wondered if her
husband had ever shoved his big click into a woman's chamber that
had no carpet of pubic growth adorning it.
     Everyone was watching Miriam grind her pussy against Phil's
genitals---except Ben Glover.  His eyes seemed afire, burning in
his haggard, lustful face.  Mavis' body jerked and there was a
sharp stabbing sensation deep in her womb.  Her mind was crying
NO!  NO!  NO!  But her vaginal appetite for a man's prong-prawn
was increasing.  Oh, God, no, she quailed.  She didn't want to
surrender her body to any more men!  All the fucking she wanted
was from her husband!  She didn't want any further humiliating
sexual abuse of her body.  But she had a strong premonition that
she, again, would yield her body to the panting greed of a man.
She would spread her legs and let him in, not even resist his
pumping his carnal prick into her!
     She felt tears about to form and turned away, left the room.
She paused briefly in the dining room, glad it was empty.  She
composed herself quickly, brushed away the start of tears.
Slowly, Mavis followed sounds in the living room.  She paused
between the two rooms and watched Connie and Becky easing Terry
onto the davenport.
     "Passed out, poor dear," Connie grinned, shaking her head,
tossing her black hair.
     Don't leave her exposed like that, Mavis thought.  Put her
legs up on the davenport, together.  And pull down her escort.
But Mavis continued to stare at the inert girl, at the bare, sleek
thighs and the rounded crotch sheathed in blue nylon.
     Mavis turned away.  She had a hunch that Terry, too, would
have her pussy plundered by some man's horny instrument.  A hot
flush washed through Mavis' body.  She would like to watch her
fucked!
     In the dining room, Connie and Becky were sitting at the
table.  Mavis set down her glass and deliberately filled it with
screwdriver from the pitcher.  She didn't bother to flinch or
recoil as she felt Connie snake a hand up under her dress to feel
her legs and rub her butt.  Let her play, Mavis pouted, standing
perfectly still---kind of enjoying the sexy finger play inside her
panties, in her crack.
     She looked up as Miriam rejoined them.
     "That Phil is a difficult man to make hard!" Miriam said.
     "I've noticed that at times," Mavis murmured, feeling a
little bitter, remembering that Phil hadn't touched her in more
than a week.  She tried to be flippant, "If you can get his horse
up, go ahead and saddle it and ride it in your barn."
     But she really didn't mean it.  She didn't want Phil fucking
other women---and she didn't want to be mauled and screwed by
other men.  She didn't want to swap!
     But it seemed they were all hurdling toward mixing mates!
Who was going to get her?  Some guy was going to be without a
cunt---unless two of them doubled up on one woman.
     Oh, God!  Not me! she fretted, almost in a panic.  Especially
not that lecherous Ben Glover!
     Maybe she would get laid by Connie! That black-haired beauty
now had her fingers playing with her anus and dabbling into her
cunny pouch, caressing and gently pinching the puffy labia.  Mavis
suppressed the heady sensation to giggle.  Getting laid and
screwed---eaten out---by another woman!
     Her thoughts were interrupted when Dell strolled in, serious
and pale.  "Let's go, Becky.  It's late."
     "And?" Becky frowned, eyes loving, yet serious and concerned.
     "And," Dell sighed, "I lost thirty-five dollars."
     Becky didn't have to say it, Mavis thought, reading the small
girl's expression.  OUCH!  That hurt.  Those kids needed the
money.  It never crossed Mavis' mind to remember that Dell had
fucked her and had been forced to let Connie and Miriam used his
fine, young cock.
     Then the handsome young couple was gone, declining a
nightcap.  That left five men and four women---if the passed-out
Terry counted!
     It was only eleven-thirty.  And the five men continued their
poker play after Dell had withdrawn.  She heard her husband gloat,
a little loudly, a little drunkenly, "My pot!  Damn!  This is a
goodern!  Must be forty bucks in it!"
     Mavis smiled as Connie stiffened slightly.  She was pleased
her husband was triumphant and happy.  "Mavis!" Phil called and
she was on her feet instantly, hurrying to please him.  "Honey,
dash over home and get me a couple of cigars?  I would go---but I
feel a hot streak upon me!"
     Wordlessly, she nodded under his excited Raze.  Then she
wilted slightly as Henry Carr pushed back his chair.  "I need a
breath of fresh air.  I'll walk over with you, Mavis.  We've had
some prowler reports in the neighborhood---I wouldn't want you to
encounter some mean character."
     Mavis breathed deeply, raggedly.  You are the mean character,
she thought with a twinge of mental misery.  But what can I do?



                            Chapter 8

     The moon had hidden its face behind opaque clouds beyond the
Wasatch Mountains to the east.  But Mavis needed no light in the
inky black night to know here Hank Carr was!  She could hear his
deep---somewhat fast---breathing right behind her.  She could
almost feel it on her neck.  His musky male aroma drifted on the
still night air.
     He was the one who was going to get her!
     Mavis' knees weakened and trembled---but her cunny muscles
clutched deliciously tormenting and she sensed a hot flush of sex
juices released in her trembling sex channel.  Her mind cried NO!
But her physical being was crying out to be fucked!
     His footsteps were stealthy and right on her heels.  No one
had to tell her he had a hard-on.  And that hard cock was destined
to be socked into her cunt!
     Mavis couldn't resist a feeling of resignation.  He would
fuck her---and she would let him!
     He was off to her side now and a hand was gently touching the
small of her back---the tip of a finger was nudged against the
dimple-start of her crack.  He wasn't even waiting until they got
in the house to start putting the make on her!  She just hoped he
didn't think it was necessary to remind her that he knew she had
been a whore in order to lay her!  She would let him---she knew
she would---she was resigned to taking him on, letting him hose
his jizz into her twat!
     Mavis cursed herself!  Her sex channel was roiling, a boiling
cauldron!  Just from having Hank Carr's knowledgeable hand on her
body.  Her coital muscles were knotted and bunched.  Her rectal
passage was itching and burning---and she wished that Hank would
get his hand inside her panties and rub her asshole to relieve the
exotic torment.
     SLUT! her mind shouted at her.
     And she answered silently ... I have no choice.  I can't have
any of these people know and talk about my past!
     Henry Carr's hand dropped away from her quivering body as
they entered the house.  Mavis didn't bother turning on another
light as the lamp in the distant living room cut the gloom in the
kitchen.  Mavis knew exactly where Phil kept his cigars ... in one
of the vegetable drawers in the refrigerator.
     This is where he'll take me, Mavis thought, hesitating on
opening the refrigerator.  Somehow, she knew.
     "I didn't see a sign of a prowler," Hank said in the dim
kitchen.
     "I didn't either, I didn't know we had prowlers in the
neighborhood."  Mavis breathed shakily---wishing he would make his
move ... piss or get off the pot!
     There was a rustling behind her, but Mavis wouldn't turn to
determine what it was.  She folded her arms under her full
breasts, just waiting.  She sensed it was only a matter of time
before Hank made his move.  She shivered, hating the suspense of
when he would take her.  If it were going to happen, she wished he
would do it and have it over with---spare her the agony of
uncertainty.  It would also extinguish the raging fire that was
roaring in her cunt.
     There seemed to be something primitive in the air.  It was
all animal; the pursuer and the pursued; the hunter and the
hunted.  She was the prey.  Mavis was glad it was very dim in the
epic and span kitchen.  She didn't want to see it happen to her.
Hank wouldn't seem quite so carnal and forbidding here in the
gloom.  She wouldn't have to look at him as he gave it to her.
All she would have to cope with were the feeling and smell and
hearing his lustful breathing.  This way, in the dark, it wouldn't
be so bad even if he made her take his cock and guide it into her.
     If she couldn't see him---his face---as he fucked her, maybe
it would just be like an unpleasant dream.  A short dream;
depending on how long it took him to pump his prick into her until
he came.
     "You're a sexy, curvy bundle, Mavis," he whispered hoarsely
and Mavis jumped, startled, not realizing how near he was.  His
breath even wafted fine wisps of her blonde hair.  She hadn't
expected him to speak.  She had thought he would just start
stripping her---and take her!
     "What are you going to do, Hank?" Mavis mumbled.
     His soft laughter sent cold chills up and down her spine.
     "Why, you came after some cigars, sweet thing.  That's what
you're going to get---a cigar!"
     "Please?" she sighed, knees weak and trembling.
     "You don't have to ask for it, Mavis," Henry Carr said.  And
he placed his hands on her upper arms.
     Soon, soon, soon, she fretted, he would be getting to her.
She wondered if he were hung as well as Willie.  Willie had a huge
cock and he knew how to use it!  Well, Hank could fuck her, but
she wouldn't cooperate.  She wouldn't even permit herself to get
steamed up and orgasm!  She wished her channel would stay dry and
the walls of her vagina would rub him raw!
     She let him turn her torso and pull her into the circle of
his arms.  God!  He was stark naked.  That had been the rustling
she had heard behind her; Hank taking off his clothes!  He had
been damned cock-sure he was going to use his cock in her!
     She didn't resist as he crushed her to his bare, hairy chest.
He held her so firmly, her breasts were mushroomed almost out of
the bra against him.  And his hands were rubbing up and down her
back, his fingers pinching her firm buttocks at the terminus of
their downward stroke.  And his touch was stoking her sex furnace
and she was about to erupt.
     "Ooooooohhhhh!" she whimpered as his mouth and spearing
tongue found hers.  His kiss was masterful and demanding.  She let
her lips part, chin lift slightly so he could jut his tongue into
her mouth.  His tongue was wild.  Mavis felt she had never been
French-kissed like this before in her life.  And he was dry-
fucking like crazy, grinding his groin against her tummy.  And he
was hot and bone-hard!  She didn't have to see it or feel it with
her hands; she knew Hank Carr had an immense pussy plunger!
     His hands, now cupping her ass and lifting her up on tiptoes,
were pushing her toward the precipice of climax and she was about
to beg him to rip off her clothes and fuck her!  She needed it!
Wanted it as badly as any bitch dog in heat!
     But she didn't have to beg.  His hands were busy up under her
skirt and her panties were slithering down over her buttocks and
he was baring his target for attack.  In seconds, the fragile,
protective sheath of silk would be gone and there would be nothing
between her puffed pussy and his long, hard prick!  He was going
to fuck her on her own kitchen floor!
     Hank's hands left the bare, feverish flesh under her skirt
and drifted to her shoulders.  For a second panic and
disappointment seized her.  She thought he was going to push her
to her knees and force her to give him a blow-job, suck him off
and she would be cheated out of having a big cock pummeling her
cunt!  Whatever had been her earlier resolve had dissipated.
Right now, she wanted a fuck!
     But she would do just as Hank wanted, praying silently that
she received sexual relief while he was spending his cock in her
and deriving his own pleasure.  She couldn't see his face in the
dark as he left off kissing her and pushed her away.  Mavis let
him lead her to the serving bar that separated the kitchen dinette
from the dining room.
     He turned her about and pushed her over the bar.  "What?" she
puzzled in a slightly whining voice as he shoved her aching tits
down on the Formica counter.  She braced her arms across the
surface, clenched the far edge with her hands.  Mavis rested her
face on her left forearm, trying to peer behind her, but couldn't
see the naked Henry Carr.  But he was back there.  And she knew he
was going to feed his cock into her cunt from behind.
     Somehow, dog-fashion had always seemed degrading to her.  But
she wouldn't resist or complain.  She was going to get his hard
meat in her pussy.  She had resolved that she wouldn't cooperate,
wouldn't permit herself to climax, but, now, she was starving for
long plunges of hard, pulsating cock in her quivering cunny.
     She trembled with anticipation as he hiked her skirt up over
her ass, exposing her fanny.  Obediently, she spread her feet and
knees apart as Hank's hands pressed against her inner thighs.  She
hoisted her rear as much as she could to give his prick full and
easy access to the passion-slicked pouch formed by the swollen
labia of her vulva.
     Hurry, hurry!  Fuck me! her mind implored.  But she said,
"Get it over with, Hank."
     She held steady as he pushed his thumbs into the already-
parted crease of her ass and lodged them against her anal pucker.
She was fearful he was going to ram them inside her rectum---then
wished he would.
     Hank was panting in soft whistles, his breath keening through
his nostrils and Mavis could smell the muskiness of his genitals.
She stiffened, braced her legs as she felt the thick point of his
bull prick explore her crack.  It was hot and gooey with his
secretion of lubrication.  For a second she thought he was going
to cornhole her, but he wanted it in her snatch and he dabbed the
head of his cock into her sex pouch and swabbed it around.
     "Aaaaaaaaceeeeeeiiii," Mavis whimpered with pleasure---she
was unable to restrain as Hank raked the clit that had hardened
and extended from its little silo.  She hoped he hadn't been
circumcised; she wanted him to have a full foreskin that was
rolled back behind the glans and would brush roughly against the
crinkled walls of her feverish vagina.  "Fuuuuuuccckkk me!" she
heard herself begging.
     He bounced the blunt tip against the fleshy curtain of her
vaginal opening---then plunged about five inches of thick cock
into her.  "Aaaaaaaahhhhggghh!" she breathed raggedly, bracing
against his forward pressure.  His cock continued to bore into her
twat and Mavis gulped appreciatively.  Vaguely, she knew she would
hate her slutty avarice later.  But right now she wanted all of
his cock, deep in her snatch and fucking like crazy.
     His cock was snug in her cunt, but there was no grinding
friction.  His coital syrup had coated his shaft and her vagina
was honey-glazed with a sort of sensual craze.  The big head, with
its roll of foreskin nudged her cervix and glided on past, well on
its way toward her womb.
     He was going to fuck her deep and thoroughly.  As if in a
daze, Mavis wished Hank had a big knob, like his dog's, that would
swell and lodge inside her cove.
     "Is it all in?" Mavis queried, panting with desire for him to
start his rocking, hunching coital plundering.  She could feel the
hairy rasp of the fronts of his thighs against the backs of hers.
A thunder was starting inside her and she knew she was going to be
shaken with a premature orgasm and wished he would give her four
or five good, fast cock-pumps before she went off.
     "Not quite," Hank grunted.  "You have a good, tight pussy."
     Mavis almost cried out as Hank rammed the last couple of
inches of his post into her hole.  "I'm going to make your cunt
smoke!" he promised, almost brutally jamming the head against the
deepest reaches of her swat.
     "Give-me-a-couple-of-thrusts!" Mavis begged, shaking her ass
back at him and rotating it.  "I'm going to have a cum!"
     He swizzled it around in her clutching cunt and gave her a
series of rabbit-like pumps---just a couple of inches in and out--
-and Mavis exploded deep in her vaginal tube.  Her sphincters
gripped the long, thick shaft and she was grateful that Hank
buried his prick deep in her snatch and let her cum and cum and
cum, her pleasure cascading all through her pelvic region.
     Then his hands clenched on her narrow flanks, thumbs dug into
the softness of the area between her heaving rib cage and her
squirming ass.  When he began drawing out of her, Mavis pleaded,
"Don't pull your cock out!  I need more fucking!  Fuck me good;
shoot your load deep in my pussy!"
     She had hardly gasped out her pleading and Hank fucked his
bone deep into her quivering maw.  His pelvic bone banged against
her ass and his balls slapped up under her, against her plump
pussy mound.
     "Ooooo-hhhhh-iiiii-aaaaaaaa-iiiii-aaaa!" Mavis breathed with
erotic gratitude as Hank began fucking her in long strokes.  She
breathed deeply and almost swooned as she smelled the sweet
perfume of male and female blended together.  "How you can fuck,"
she marveled as Hank poured the prick to her in faster strokes
that brought his cock out of her snatch until just the head
remained inside her swat.  Then, "Slock!" plunged it back into
her.  The big balls bounced against her stretched pussy folds.
     Slock-slurp; slock-slock.
     "It's heaven to fuck!" Mavis squalled with delight, rotating
her ass faster and faster and hunching her tensed buttocks back at
him as he slammed his meat tusk to the limit in her greedy cunt.
     "You're a good, red-hot piece!" Hank panted, huffing and
puffing as he hunched.
     "This is a good position," Mavis murmured.  "My ass is just
the right height for you to pump your prick into me!"
     She felt he really was making her snatch smoke as he fucked
her with long, fast pumps.  "I'm gonna cum again!" she wailed,
voice shrill.  And she felt her entire vaginal cavity was being
shattered by the violence of her orgasm.  "Hold it in deep and let
meeee cum!" she begged, trying to capture his thick, rapacious
cock with her coital muscles.  But Hank fucked her faster, really
banging his prick into her cunt.
     He was cumming, too.  "Aaaaaagggghhhhh!" Mavis gurgled with
appreciation as his sex hydrant began flooding her innards.  It
was like a liquid fire that was consuming her pussy and her
ecstasy knew no bounds.  She thought---hoped---he would never stop
hosing his jizz into her.  It was sooooo heavenly, having his cock
fairly blowing her snatch full of thick, creamy cum.
     She hardly knew when Hank slowly extracted his spent member.
The erotic pleasure continued with her and she remained bent over
the bar in the ready position, knowing Hank or anyone else who
might enter the house could see her bare ass and gaping, gored
puss.  Even an inexperienced kid could tell she had been
thoroughly fucked.
     "Where does Phil keep his cigars?" she heard Hank ask and she
knew he had backed his prick out of her.
     "In the refrigerator, in one of the vegetable drawers," she
finally managed to mumble, still reveling in the glory of his
peckering.
     "There's only three," she heard Hank say.
     She heard his barefooted approach.  "One for you and two for
Phil," she heard him chortle.  He pushed her up on tiptoe as he
suddenly inserted a ten-inch-long panatella all the way into her
throbbing pussy still in its cellophane wrapper.
     For a moment, Mavis was dismayed.  Then she started giggling.
A cigar in her snatch.  She thought her pussy-fire was still hot
enough to burn it to a cinder.
     "We better get back," Hank said realistically.
     "Yes," Mavis agreed, straightening.  She kicked her panties
into the utility room and followed him out into the night.  If she
got fucked again that night, whoever pumped the prick to her would
have to extricate the cigar first!



                            Chapter 9

     As Mavis followed Hank across the dark back yards, she was
assailed by a variety of emotions.  She seemed to be tagging after
her illicit lover like a docile servant girl; she couldn't
understand how she could submit to other men without even a show
of resistance, then be flooded with remorse after they had had
their way with her body; and as they approached the Quentin home,
a sense of reluctance almost caused her to turn and bolt for her
own house---she didn't want to see her husband wrapped in another
woman's arms in the throes of passion.
     But she padded on after Henry Carr and followed him into the
house and the Quentin den where the men had played poker.  She
wondered if Willie could read in her face that Hank had humped her
in her own kitchen, bent over the serving bar.  He gave no sign as
he wordlessly mixed three drinks and handed her and Hank a glass.
     Mavis glanced about the room and squirmed with dismay when
she found the others weren't there.  Had Miriam succeeded in
luring Phil away?  Already, their naked bodies might be entwined,
Phil struggling between her sleek thighs, shoving his horn into
her body, giving Miriam the pleasure that should be hers?
     She didn't give a damn if Mickey Lewis were fucking Connie---
but the thought of her husband pumping his wonderful prick into
Miriam's hairless pussy almost made her cry.
     Mavis attempted to concentrate on Willie and Hank, take her
mind from disturbing thoughts.  How could they be so unconcerned,
sitting here and sopping up whiskey while their wives were being
fucked elsewhere in the house?  Maybe they were.  But, to Mavis,
it appeared all they were interested in was getting drunk.  They
seemed oblivious to her presence---at least she didn't have to
worry about being taken again by Willie or having them taking
turns ravaging her body.
     "I'll get to that Terry." Willie mumbled, replenishing his
and Hank's drinks from a bottle of bourbon.  "And I'll shag that
Becky Samon, too," he vowed, nodding his head as if to add
emphasis.
     "I'll bet she's a virgin, Will," Hank shook his head,
disputing Willie, "and I'll bet you don't even get a whiff of her
pure pussy."
     "Yer on and how much?" Willie challenged, grinning drunkenly
with good nature.
     "Name it!" Hank responded.  "A case of Scotch?"
     "A bet!" Willie grinned, gulping straight whiskey and wiping
the dribblings from his chin with the back of his free hand.
     Mavis slipped away from them, suddenly wondering where Ben
Glover, the grayish, haggard man with the lecherous eves, was.  A
chill shivered through her.  He must still be about.  He was the
one she would have to avoid encountering: he wanted her!  His
eyes, earlier had, unmistakably, told her that!
     Lights in the dining room had been doused but there was a
table lamp on somewhere in the living room where they had put
Terry Lewis when she passed out.  Silently, Mavis made her way
toward the large, luxuriously furnished living room.  Maybe Mickey
had taken his little wife and gone home and Phil had Connie and
Miriam in bed with him somewhere.  Oh God! she fretted miserably.
     Suddenly, Mavis stopped cold, all of the hot liquor she had
drunk turning to ice water in her veins.  She cowered into heavy
shadows along one wall and hunkered behind a large easy chair.
     Not ten feet away was Ben Glover, hovering over the sleeping
Terry.  His teeth seemed long and wolfish in his leering mouth and
Mavis thought saliva was drooling from his foul lips.
     He was going to take and defile the dainty Terry!  How could
a man get any satisfaction fucking an unresponsive, passed-out
woman?
     What was he going to do next? Mavis wondered as Glover turned
and peered about.  The dim light struck him just right and Mavis
could see the massive ridge in his clothes, extending upward
nearly to his belt buckle.  Ben Glover had a hard-on of sufficient
girth and length to service a young cow!  He would rip and tear
and ruin the small Terry!  Mavis felt, no way, could the young
woman take what he had into her body without being horribly
damaged.
     Mavis frowned, alarmed at the warm quiverings in her vagina,
unable to control the clutching cunny muscles around the
cellophane-wrapped cigar Hank had inserted into her.
     Although she was nearly overwhelmed by revulsion, she knew
she was going to remain where she was and watch Ben Glover impale
the helpless Terry on his giant lance.  Then Mavis was appalled at
the thought that burned in her brain ... she wished Glover would
disrobe so she could see his big sausage.  She wanted to look at
his hard cock, see his lusting flesh without the obstruction of
his clothes.
     She held her breath while Glover removed his shoes and socks,
then stripped to the waist, taking off his shirt and undershirt.
But she wouldn't see his mammoth phallus for a while.  He wasn't
going to disrobe completely for the time being.
     Terry hadn't moved since she had been placed on  the couch.
Her right foot, drawn up still rested on the seat.  Her left was
on the floor knee sprawled wide.  Ben Glover had a clear view of
her panty-sheathed crotch.  Mavis watched the vile man bend over
the girl and she could see him clearly as he sniffed at her
relaxed pussy.
     He was in no hurry to get on with his depraved venture.  He
seemed to be savoring time, gloating over the defenseless little
beauty.  There was an air of knowledgeable confidence in the way
he went about defiling his prey.
     Mavis watched Glover step back, study the curvy woman.  She
was nothing more than well-molded clay to be mauled by his long-
fingered hands and poked and prodded by his great tool.
     Then he leaned over Terry and wormed a hand inside her
blouse, inside the full bra cup and Mavis could see him squeezing
almost brutally.  Terry groaned and twisted slightly, but didn't
emerge from her alcoholic stupor.  She, indeed, was helpless to
avoid the cruel, sexual assault that she was destined to receive.
And Mavis, suddenly, nearly called out to Glover to FUCK HER!
     Glover fumbled in his right front pants pocket and Mavis felt
a rising torrent of terror as he withdrew a knife and opened it.
The blade wasn't long, but it glittered evilly in the pale light.
He's going to mutilate her! Mavis almost screamed.  Maybe he win
cut off her nipples!
     She watched the tall, gaunt man test the edge of the blade
with the flat of a thumb.  She could hear him humming softly.
Quickly, he cut off all the buttons on Terry's blouse.  Then he
sliced along the shoulder seams, then the side seams and tossed
away the two front halves of the thin garment.  With a deft flick
of the blade, he cut the shoulder straps of her brassiere.
Deftly, he cut the bra, starting under each arm-pit and threw the
cups aside.  He paused a moment to tweak each nipple until they
expanded into ripe, pointy spires.
     Glover worked the blade under the waistband of Terry's skirt,
near the navel, and gently sawed it downward, severing the bottom
hem.  With his left hand, he folded the skirt flaps aside.  The
frail slip was cut slickly by the sharp knife and only Terry's
panties remained to cover her unconscious nudity.  Glover cut down
each side, from the waistband to the leg hems, and removed the
triangle of silk to reveal Terry's hair-adorned pussy.  She was
naked, Iying there in the ruins of her clothes.
     Now he will plunder her, Mavis thought, fuck out his pleasure
in her with his oversize prick.
     Mavis was aware of an overpowering need of a drink.  Slowly,
so that she didn't get Glover's attention, she crawled toward the
den.  As she stood up at the archway, she heard the front door
open and close.  Maybe Glover was going to abandon Terry---and
Mavis was aware of keen disappointment.  She had wanted to watch
him sexually abuse the little cunt!
     She glared at Hank and Willie---both had gotten their guts
full of booze and were sleeping, heads and arms sprawled on the
poker table.  Willie was snoring like an animal.  Hank had spilled
his whiskey and his face was resting in the soggy puddle in the
tightly stretched blanket on the table.
     At the bar, Mavis removed the lid from the ice bucket and
filled a fresh glass with ice cubes and bourbon.  Quickly, she
darted back to the living room and again squatted in the shadows
behind the chair.
     Just in timer Glover reentered the house, carrying a piece of
wood resembling a large broomstick about four feet long.  There
were two leather loops attached to it near the ends.  What on
earth, Mavis puzzled.
     But Mavis didn't have to wait long for an explanation.
Almost roughly, Glover seized Terry's limp left wrist and dragged
her onto the floor.  He grabbed an ankle and pulled her to the
center of the room.  With a foot, he pushed her legs out straight,
kicked her feet far apart.  Then he dropped to his knees and
lifted her left leg, pushed the wooden pole under it, lifted the
right leg and worked it under, just behind the knees.
     Glover knelt between Terry's legs and grasped the pole in the
middle with his left hand.  He levered upward, drawing Terry's
legs parted thighs toward her face.  With his right hand, he took
Terry's left wrist and worked her hand through a leather loop
which wrapped across her thigh from the inside.  Then he slipped
the loop over the end of the pole.  Quickly, he repeated the
maneuver with her right wrist.
     Terry was wadded up, arms lashed to her knees.  The cheeks of
her rear glistened dully in the pale light.  With thighs splayed
far apart, her pussy was fully exposed, a ready, unprotected
target for a man's sex spear.
     Mavis shuddered silently as Glover stood and chuckled
obscenely.  His simple little sex-torture rack.  Terry was
mumbling, "No, no, no.  Please?  Nooooo."
     "Yeeeeeessssss, cunt!" Glover hissed, removing his pants and
shorts.
     His back was to Mavis and she couldn't resist the tremblings
of anticipation, wanting to look at his front nakedness.  She
yearned to see his bunch of tools.
     Mavis stared at Glover's back, felt a little ill.  The pulpy
halves of his rump seemed to sag with the flaccidness of middle
age.  Even the flesh of his back seemed to hang in wrinkles and
his legs were spider-webbed with varicose veins.
     But, then, Glover tensed.  The veins remained in his legs,
but the sagging flesh firmed and his lean ass was rounded and
taut.  He turned---and a hand went involuntarily to Mavis' wide
open mouth.  He was, truly, immense, His blunt-headed penis sagged
at a ninety-five-degree angle from the base at his hairy crotch.
His scrotum, full of big balls, resembled a huge conifer cone.
     Mavis had thought the blood veins in the tall, scrawny man's
calves were pronounced---but his pulsating prod was heavily ridged
with purplish blood vessels.  And the stubbed-off battering ram
was syrupy to the point of being disgustingly snotty.
     Oh, God!  She would never want that obscene tool drilling and
ramming into her pussy!
     And he was going to bludgeon that log into Terry's dainty,
tight little hole!  Oooooohhhh, Mavis sighed silently, staring at
that huge, long hunk of hard flesh.
     Terry was mumbling and groaning, her head twisting from side
to side.  Perhaps, Mavis thought, being bound up like that---knees
up high and flung wide, wrists lashed to them by Glover's sex bar,
she was being roused because of the awkward position and
discomfort.
     Mavis sipped at her whiskey as she watched Glover run the big
toe of his right foot up and down the flattened crack of Terry's
ass, digging it at the stretched butt hole.  Then---Mavis felt a
little like wretching---Glover used his toe to spread Terry's
outer pussy lips and ran it up and down the reddish, slicky inner
petal folds.  Don't fuck her with your foot, Mavis frowned.  Use
your big dick.
     But Glover was jacking off slowly with both hands as he knelt
between Terry's pinioned legs.  He shuffled forward, still beating
his meat, working his fingers around to grease his shaft with his
own clear sex juice.
     He continued masturbating with one hand as he grasped the bar
in the center with his left hand.  Mavis was aware of a fire
kindling in her own vaginal channel, fascinated by Terry's slicked
gash and Glover's massive spear.
     Glover rocked Terry back and forth on her shoulders by
pushing the bar toward her face and pulling it back toward him She
was just a fucking machine, harnessed up like that, Mavis thought.
     Terry's entire body quivered and convulsed as Glover bent the
blunt head of his cock into her soupy vulva and swabbed it up and
down, around and around.  He shuffled forward on his bony knees
and ass-hunched the big knob into her tiny vagina.
     "Aaaaagggghhhhh!" Terry whimpered, just barely beyond the
edge of complete drunkenness.  Glover would sober her up, Mavis
thought.  He pushed his knees within a couple of inches of her
upturned fanny.  He pulled the bar toward him, rolling her ass
toward him---and gorging her snatch with about four inches of hard
male meat.
     "Eeeeeeeiiiiiiii," Terry whimpered softly as Glover's prick
stretched the inner walls of her vagina.
     Wheeeee!  Mavis clenched her thighs against her own snatch
and wiggled the nearly forgotten cigar around in her swat.
     Now, Glover had both hands on the bar and was slowly pushing
Terry's body away from him until only the big knob was in her,
then pulling her toward him.  Each time he worked another inch of
his monstrous dong into her.  When his balls rolled high in their
sac, Mavis could see Terry's stretched pussy ring and her
quivering anus.
     "Aaaaagggghhhh!" Terry complained, not yet realizing how
helpless she was.
     Glover now had both hands on the center of the bar that kept
Terry's hands secure, her thighs and knees fanned wide.  His huge
plunger was making a big, round fleshy doughnut of her cunt lips.
It was, it seemed to Mavis, stretched all out of shape.  But, what
surprised Mavis, she was taking his cock---all of it.  Mavis had a
clear view.  In a minute---another couple of Glover's rocking her
body back and forth---she would have consumed all eleven or twelve
inches of his sex snorkel.  She really had a snatch!  Mavis
marveled, vaguely aware that her own sex juices were boiling
freely.
     Mavis drained her glass and watched Glover push far forward
on the bar, shoving it up near Terry's chin that was twisting from
side to side.  Terry's bottom was up on top and Glover began
pumping the prick to her in long, fast, brutal thrusts.
     "Aaaaahhhh!" Terry groaned, her voice drifting into a
plaintive scream as Glover drilled his cock past her cervix and
into the uterus.
     Mavis thought she was going to faint as she watched Glover
fucking the shit out of the tiny girl.  She did collapse behind
the chair as Glover pounded Terry into a violent drunken climax
and yelled triumphantly as he found the trigger of his cannon and
began spouting her upturned sex cavity full of jizz ...
     Mavis waited, watched as Glover hauled his long shaft out of
Terry's body, shook the sex juice off on her cramped tits and into
her face, dressed and departed.
     Then Mavis slipped from her hiding place, squatted and
removed the cigar from her pussy, threw it away and ran out of the
Quentin home to her own and to bed.
     To hell with Phil.  Let him fuck Miriam or Connie or both ...
she slept and didn't awaken until long after Phil had left for
Provo.



                            Chapter 10

     When Mavis awoke, she was surprised she felt no remorse about
the night before.  As she ran a tub full of pleasurable hot water,
she was slightly excited, wondering who had found Terry bound up
in such a lewd position, ready for fucking and unable to resist
even if she had wanted.
     Strangely, she wasn't disturbed that she and Hank Carr had
fucked down in the kitchen---yet, she was reluctant to go down to
make coffee.  She just knew that the room and the memory would
haunt her at first.  Her cunny muscles squirmed.  Hank knew how to
diddle!
     She didn't know whether it was the delightful bath or the
memory of having her pussy plugged so thoroughly and exotically.
She shook her blonde hair and examined her body in the clear,
steaming water.  There was no sign to indicate she had fornicated
with relish!  "Aaaaah," she sighed.  She wouldn't go out---except
to the bank to get that thousand dollars to give to Willie to
cover someone else's theft!  "Damn bastard---whoever you are!" she
swore.
     Well, she would take care of that first thing, Mavis
resolved.  She quit the bath, dried hastily and dressed in a tight
white sweater and white slacks.  Phil had left the percolator
plugged in and she drank a cup of coffee quickly.  Just as she was
about to leave the house, the telephone rang.
     "Hello?"
     "Phil here in Provo, honey.  How are you?"
     "Fine," Mavis gulped.  "Did you get laid last night?"
     She grinned, feeling a little devilish as she waited for her
husband to answer.
     "We'll talk about it later.  I just wanted you to know I will
be down here two or three days---wanted to be sure you're okay."
     "I'm fine," Mavis said.  "I have to go to the bank.  Call me
again tonight.  I have to do some things and I want to get them
done.  By the way, Phil, I was disturbed by you guys' talk last
night---about some-one robbing Willie and the store.  Is that
really possible?"
     "It would be easy as pie," Phil said tersely.  "If certain
people knew what the hell they were doing."
     That bothered her all the way downtown to the bank, while she
was filling out the withdrawal slip and getting the cash in
twenty-dollar bills.
     It really never left her mind until she parked behind the
supermarket near the loading dock and started in the backway to
Willie's office.  Then she was occupied with another thought...
would Willie put the make on her again---despite his promise?
     Mavis hesitated near the dark stairway to Willie Quentin's
office.  Why was there such a trembling in her legs?  And there
was such an itching and burning all through her loins.  It seemed
centered in her rectum and flashed through her vulva and into the
very depths of her womb.
     There seemed to be a grinding and churning in her pussy
channel.  Quick tears leaped into Mavis' eyes.  Did she want
Willie to take her and force her and fuck her again?  Oh, no!  It
was cool here in the dark store-room.  It was pleasant; Mavis
could smell the mingling of odors, detergents, fresh produce, the
butcher shop across the huge building.
     Mavis wanted to regain her composure, shuffle off the
squirrely yearning to be sexed.  Through a small glass window in
one of the swinging doors between the storeroom and the market,
Mavis could see shoppers wandering up and down the wide aisles.
The window was so high she couldn't see their metal carts---but
she had no trouble identifying Becky Samon who pressed a button
and stepped into Willie Quentin's private elevator.
     What was Becky doing here?  Vexed, smooth brow now wrinkled,
Mavis stole up the stairs.  Vaguely, she remembered hearing Willie
tell Hank he would make Becky.  And a case of Scotch whiskey rode
on the bet!
     Full realization hit Mavis at the top of the stairs.  Becky
would get Willie's masterful penis, so hard and thick and long---
and she would be left wanting!
     "Goddamn that Willie Quentin!" Mavis swore softly as she
tiptoed up the stairs.  "He's going to get---somehow---a piece of
virgin tail and my thousand dollars!  Well---screw him---he isn't
getting any more of my ass!"
     Mavis wished she could get into Willie's office---to listen
to the red-haired man operate, watch him plug the virgin's prime
pussy.  Oh, Lordy! Mavis sighed raggedly.  Becky was such a tiny,
fragile little thing.  If Willie succeeded in seducing her, could
she possibly take his huge pole into her unpracticed cunny?
     Mavis shivered, perplexed that she was imbued with a hot
sense of anticipation.  She wanted to see the veteran cocksman
stab the little blonde and give her the first fucking of her life!
Carefully, Mavis pressed an ear against the door to Willie's
office, straining to hear what was happening inside.  She almost
stumbled forward.  The door had been left unlocked!  Had Willie
done it deliberately?  Probably not.
     The door gave inward ever so slightly and Mavis held her
breath.  She could hear the uneven murmur of voices.  For the
first time, she acknowledged that, in her subconscious, she would
have let Willie have his way with her again.  Hadn't her own
husband shacked up the night before, had given his hard pecker to
Miriam?  And she hadn't had any of his cock for going on two
weeks!  Sure, she would have let Willie screw her again, if he
pressed her for it.  Jealousy began to blossom vilely in her mind.
Willie was going to give it to Becky.  What the hell did Becky
know about how to use and enjoy a prick?  Hell!  She would
probably scream and the pain would keep her from having even a
second of pleasure as Willie fucked her.  "But I know what to do
with a pecker when I get it dicked into my swat," Mavis whispered
to herself.
     She no longer could hear the voices and pushed the door
inward a couple of inches.  If she could just get in the coat
closet just inside the door.  What the hell if Willie did detect
her opening the door?  After all, she was supposed to be there.
     Resolutely, Mavis pushed the door open about a foot and
peeked inside.  There was a sound of running water.  And Mavis
reckoned that Willie was using the bathroom.  She opened the door
wider.  There sat Becky in a chair before Willie's desk with her
back to Mavis.
     Quickly, Mavis stepped inside and slipped into the closet---
just a few seconds before Willie returned from the bathroom.  The
closet door gaped open a couple of inches---just as it had been
when she scurried inside.  She could see a fragment of Becky's
profile; when Willie leaned forward she could see his bushy red
hair and his solemn, slightly florid face.  Well, she didn't have
to see much, she could hear everything perfectly.
     "Becky," Willie began in a monotone, "you want to marry Dell,
don't you?  And I think you are a grand young couple.  I think as
much of Dell as if he were my son.  Yet, Becky ..."
     Mavis could see the stud horse man lean forward.  "I am
afraid I may have to do something that may send Dell---damn him!--
-to the penitentiary."
     "Ooooooh, no!" Becky cried, leaning forward.  Mavis got a
brief glimpse of her pallid face before she wilted back into the
chair.
     So, that's the bastard's game!  Mavis frowned, hating Willie
and admiring his technique at the same time.
     "Do you have a couple of thousand dollars, Becky---to make up
a shortage in store funds that I am positive Dell has taken?"
     "My God, no!" Becky cried.  And Mavis could hear jerky sobs
wracking her petite body.  "Dell wouldn't steal!"
     "I thought so; I thought so, too," Willie murmured.  "But
facts are facts, Becky."
     Mavis thought Willie was thoroughly enjoying the innocent
young woman's misery and shaken faith in the young man she loved.
His eyes glittered and his tongue flicked at his slightly puffy,
full lips.  Christ!  From his expression, he was already savoring
her tender, juicy body, Mavis thought.  He doesn't deserve a
cherry!  Yet, Mavis knew Willie Quentin was going to coerce the
sweet virgin into surrendering her body and her naked thighs and
her glory place to his sex mace.  And Willie---he had proved it to
her---would ravage and plunder that sweet, tender pussy with his
ruthless, lewd tusk.
     And she was going to watch him do it!
     And I am a victim of his game, Mavis' anger boiled.  He
frightened me into letting him fuck me and I was going to give him
a thousand backs for it!  Like hell!
     "You do want to marry Dell, don't you, Becky?" Willie said,
feigning weariness.
     "Ooooohhh, yes!" Becky wept and Mavis could see her shaking
with emotion.  "We've been planning and saving for more than a
year!  But all of our money is going for furniture and things for
our apartment!"
     Tell her how you can help her out, Willie, Mavis thought with
a mixture of admiration and bitterness.
     "I think I have a solution," Willie cut into Mavis' thoughts.
     "A solution?" Becky sobbed softly.
     He has a hard, driving bargain, Becky, Mavis bit her lower
lip.  When he gets you on the sheets without any clothes on,
you'll find out about his bargain.  It's about nine inches long
and thick enough to make a heifer twitch her tail and it shoots
thick, pearly cream all over the inside of a woman's snatch!
     It's called a cock---a hard--on---a prick! And he knows how
to exact his pound of female flesh while he pours the meat into
you!
     Go ahead, Willie, Mavis conjectured, tell Becky that if she
lets you seduce her, you mill dig into your own pocket and bail
out Dell.  Yet, he won't be giving up a penny!  He'll just be
screwing you so Dell won't go to jail.  Well have fun, getting
fucked, Becky!  Dell has had his nookey!  Me!  And Connie and
Miriam!  So, fuck for fun, sweet, innocent young thing!
     Mavis crowded close to the slot of the open closet door and
watched Willie stand behind his desk.  Automatically, Mavis' gaze
dropped down his thick body to the pleated trousers.  Yep!  He was
already sporting a monstrous hard-on!
     "Becky," Willie began slowly, "it will create a problem for
me at work and at home.  But I am willing to use my monthly bonus
and make up the rest to put back a hundred bucks a week for you
and Dell.  If you agree, I'll have a talk with Dell---he can keep
his job.  One thing you mustn't do and that is mention the whole
messy business to him.  Promise?"
     Mavis swiveled her gaze to squint at the innocent Becky.  Her
lips curled---a little cruelly---as she watched Becky nod in
agreement.  She was going to acquiesce to whatever Willie
suggested; she was going to consent to lie on her back and let the
big, red-haired man fuck her!  And for no reason!  Dell had done
no wrong.  But Willie was going to pop the little virgin's cherry
through frightening her.
     "Okay, Becky-baby," Willie said softly, circling slowly
around the desk, "to make it worthwhile, for compensation for
doing you and Dell a favor, you will come here once a week for
twenty weeks.  Let's make it every Wednesday after you finish work
at your office.  Okay?"
     Mavis held her breath, waiting for Becky to reply, wondering
if the young woman realized, yet, what Willie was demanding.  "All
right," Becky finally answered, sobs ebbing slightly.
     Mavis realized that---even though Willie was standing within
two feet of her---Becky hadn't yet seen that Willie had a hard
hunk of male twang bulging the front of his pants.
     Mavis clenched her thighs together over her own hot, wet
crotch, vulva pulpy with erotic desires, as Willie methodically
removed his shirt and slipped his belt free.  "Get naked, Becky-
baby," Willie wheezed, kicking off his shoes and slipping his
trousers over his feet.
     "Whaaaat?" Becky murmured as if hypnotized.
     "Suuuurrrree," Willie grinned, tongue licking his thick lips.
"For twenty weeks, to pay for Dell's crime, I'm going to fuck
you!"
     It was obvious that Becky was so stunned that all she could
do was stare and gasp as Willie shuffled out of his shorts and let
his massive set of genitals move into her view.  The gaping slot
in the blunt tip dripped a long string of clear syrup.  "I'm going
to fuck you, Becky---twenty times to pay for Dell's till-dipping!
Get undressed---or I'll tear those fancy rags off that virgin back
of yours and tear that juicy rear of yours from asshole to belly
button!  Getcher fuckin' clothes off!"
     "Pleeeaaaasssseee, NO!" Becky wept as she stood uncertainly.
Her arms remained rigid at her sides, not protesting as the naked
Willie stalked around her, lascivious eyes on her, fat lips
kissing her hair, nuzzling her dainty ears.  Becky still didn't
protest as Willie removed her bolero jacket and unbuttoned her
blouse down the back.
     Mavis found herself trembling with passion as she watched
Willie swab the head of his massive cock against Becky's quivering
left hip.  Becky's blouse came away and Willie quickly, adroitly
undid the three hooks of her lacy bra.  It fluttered to the floor
and Willie smothered her firm, proud titties with the delicate
dark tips with his meaty hands.
     Baby, Mavis thought, in a couple of minutes you're really
going to get the meat!  Big hard, thick man-meat!  Right up your
snatch funnel!
     Becky was paralyzed, hypnotized---probably as much from
seeing Willie's huge, ready sex banana as from the nightmarish
prospect of what was going to happen to her.  Doesn't she realize
that Willie is going to deflower her? Mavis wondered, a hand
rubbing at her own itching crotch, through her clothes.  Doesn't
she know that Willie is about to rupture her cherry with that
massive sex-prod of his and fuck her?
     Becky was totally naked now and Mavis stared at the sleek
thighs, at the full, firm, ripe cheeks of her butt clenched
tightly.  Her clothes lay in an obscene heap around her dainty
ankles.  Mavis thought she heard a gurgle of lewd anticipation as
Willie traced the tensed crack of Becky's ass with an index
finger.
     Get with it! Mavis thought.  Flop her down; bust her cunny
skin and fuck her!
     Mavis was grateful for Becky's quiet sobbing; it disguised
her own passionate gasps.  She just prayed that her knees didn't
weaken any more, letting her crumble to the floor.  She pressed
her face into the open door slot to watch Willie kiss and nuzzle
Becky's tanned shoulders and caress her sleek, slender body.  He
urged her body forward, bending her so that her well-turned fanny
jutted backward.  Would he take her there, from the behind? Mavis
wondered, fingers digging at her own steaming vulva.
     Willie urged Becky's slender thighs and knees apart with an
urgent, hairy leg.  Mavis had a minute's look at the virgin's
small pussy pouch between her legs.  The labia that had never been
stretched by a man's cock were clinging together.  But, Mavis
knew, in a short time, Willie's massive dong would pry them into
an "O" and stretch them around his pulsing shaft as he ripped her
hymen and fucked her.
     Dell should have this privilege and pleasure, Mavis frowned.
I should interfere, she thought.  But she remained in her closet,
secluded from the crude, lascivious act that was taking place.
She wanted Willie's plundering prong---but she also wanted to see
Becky get a brutal, ruthless screwing.
     With the fingers of his right hand pursing the firm loaves of
Becky's rear apart, Willie used a bare foot to urge her feet far
apart.  Her gentle weeping was suddenly jerky and Mavis suspected
that Willie was nudging the tip of a finger against her delicate
anus.
     "Oooooohhhh, noooo!" Becky whimpered as Willie forced her
torso lower, placed her hands on her trim ankles.  He is going to
take her from the rear, Mavis nodded, unable to control her own
erotic trembling.  Will he bust her in the asshole or will he just
fuck her in the pussy?
     Mavis wilted silently to her knees.  Becky's slender body was
pulsating rhythmically and Mavis sensed her loins must be
fluttering with fright or instinctive knowledge of penile
penetration.  Mavis was only vaguely aware that her hand had crept
into her own clothes and she was swabbing fingers up and down her
hot, slick vulva, masturbating slowly.
     She wanted to close her eyes, but the sight of Willie pushing
strong thumbs into Becky's anal crease and pinching her firm flesh
with his fingers was too good to miss.  He peeled her cheeks far
apart, stretching the rectal entry until Mavis could see the pink
inner slickness.  Maybe he will cornhole her, she breathed
raggedly.  But, Becky can't possible take his cock in her rectum!
     Willie lowered the blunt, searching tips of his thumbs and
Becky cried out, "Aaaaaahhhhh!" as they pressed the thick lips of
her pussy apart.  Mavis could see the glazed inner surfaces---and
could hardly wait for Willie to jab his hard penis into the tiny
petal folds.  Mavis pressed her free hand over her mouth as
Becky's flanks heaved and her fingers gripped her ankles more
firmly.  Her hair fanned down from her head, swept the floor.  Her
eyes were closed; her mouth was slightly distorted.  Mavis
suspected shock was wearing off and she now realized she was on
the verge of coital violation.
     Mavis stared as Becky suddenly opened her eyes wide, staring,
unseeing, as Willie bored an index finger into her vagina.  "Oh,
baby!  You're still virgin!  You got a tiny little basket of fruit
for picking in there!  Man! you're gain' to have the best fruit-
plucker fucking you in this world!"
     Becky cried something unintelligible and Mavis stared at her
body, at the convulsion of smooth muscles in her flanks as Willie
wormed his finger around in her tight snatch.  Fuck her, Willie!
And get it over with!  Stop torturing her!  Jam your cock into her
and end her misery!
     "I'm goin' to give you a thousand bucks, besides!" Willie
muttered.  And Mavis stiffened, her hand freezing as she rubbed
her stiff clit-thorn, on the rim of a violent orgasm.  NOT MY
THOUSAND BUCKS,
WILLIE!
     Mavis resumed playing with her passion-greased groove again--
-wanting Willie's prick in her---as he moved in behind Becky's
uptilted rump and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her
wide-parted crack.
     "Aaaaaaaiiiiii---Eeeeeeeiiiii!" Becky muttered, gurgling as
Willie's hot, wet knob stroked her crack and nudged into the
vulva.
     Mavis stared at Becky's proud titties that sagged slightly
toward the floor.  The tips were extended and hard.  She may be
terrified of the rape she was undergoing, Mavis thought, but her
woman's intuition is primed for it.  The fleshy curtain to her
vagina fluttered and Mavis knew Becky was instinctively ready for
penile insertion.  She may not even feel the tearing and
destruction of her hymen---if she can accommodate Willie's mammoth
prick!
     Well, now you are going to get it, Becky, darling! Mavis
thought, as Willie waddled in behind her like a bull in heat in a
pasture alone with a young heifer.  He placed a hand on her
quivering hip and used the other to bend his cockhead into her
parted vulva.  He pressed forward and shook his hips from side to
side---right on target.
     Mavis suppressed a gasp as she watched the purplish head of
his cock sink into Becky's body, disappear slowly into her coital
receptacle.
     "Aaaaeggggthhh!" Becky screamed softly, yet bracing herself
and holding her ass steady to take the big man behind her.
"Noooo!" she screamed a little more shrilly.  And Mavis knew that
Willie had lodged his penetrator against the hymen.  She could see
his dark stick pulsing and vibrating.  She wished he would turn
his head so she could see whether Becky's tight cunny gave him any
pain.
     He grunted and groaned, grasping the tiny young woman's
heaving flanks.  Relentlessly, he pulled her body back onto him.
     "Gggggggaaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" Becky screamed shrilly and
Mavis knew Willie had ripped away her cherry as his cock plunged
into her stretched twat a couple of inches---fast.  He swiveled
his hips, swabbing his knob around just inside her pussy.  Becky's
mouth was wide open and she was gasping as Willie fucked her in
little, short strokes.
     At last he concentrated on drilling his prick into her.  Inch
by inch.  Becky didn't scream anymore, just braced herself and
absorbed that massive, ravaging prick in her body.  Mavis thought
Willie would never make it all.  But he succeeded in burying his
rapacious prong in the virginal pussy and his balls slapped
against the backs and insides of Becky's trembling thighs.
     Willie kept his cock deep in her, soaking, as he leaned back
and looked down at Becky impaled from the rear.  And Mavis could
see Becky's fluttering anus.  Muscles were rippling sleekly in her
thighs---and Mavis sensed the small woman was adjusting to the
ruthless violation of her pussy.  Maybe she will like being
fucked!  Even the first time!
     From the way her body shook and the alto-tone whimperings
sifting from her wide open mouth.  Mavis knew the virgin was
getting something out of her first fuck.  Willie was rubbing his
big hands all over her, pushing his hairy chest down on her bowed
back and playing with her titties, pinching the tiny nipples.  He
leaned back, hands still locked on her flanks just above the flare
of her hips and hauled about eight inches of his cock out of her
tight vagina.
     Then he thrust it back into her, steadily---a masterful fuck-
stroke, sinking his he-sausage deep.  Becky squalled as he plunged
it all the way past her cervix, possibly into the resisting womb.
No ... maybe he just expanded her sex well to take care of his
huge hose.  Her cries and sobs and wailings were indecipherable.
Was she liking her first fucking?  Willie began fucking her in
long, penetrating strokes.  He bent his knees, held his body
rigid, hauling Becky's rear end back on his pussy-skewer---pushed
her off of it, towed her body back.  He was using her frail body
so that she fucked herself!
     His soft, gloating chuckle was almost obscene in the private
office as he pumped her body back and forth on his thick shaft.
And something was happening to Becky.  Mavis couldn't describe the
mutterings that were cascading from her twisted lips.  Then!
Mavis knew!  Becky was in the throes of the first climax of her
life---at least while her snatch was pinioned by a male poker.
She was orgasming all over the place.
     The scream was indescribable!  Yes!  She was begging!  Her
words became discernable!  "Ffffuuuccckkkmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeee!"
     God! is she cumming, Mavis marveled as Willie began thudding
his ass forward, driving his cock into the fragile body as he
yanked her quivering ass back on his sex-spindle.  His balls were
slapping up between her legs, against Becky's tight, cock-filled
belly.
     You wonderful, sexy little birch! Mavis marveled as she
soared into her own climax, three fingers buried in her pussy, a
thumb compressing her throbbing clit.  Christ! how you love cock!
     Becky's hands were off her ankles and braced flat on the
floor as Willie thudded his long meat post into her swat.  She was
squalling softly, begging for prick, reveling in having her snatch
banged by a master's prick
     "You really love to fuck, don't you, Becky?" Mavis murmured
ever-so-softly to herself, her own body shuddering with erotic
sex-thrills.
     All of Becky's smooth muscles seemed to be rippling like a
sleek cat loping freely.  And she was begging plaintively for
Willie not to stop fucking her.  For her first time, Mavis
thought, she was voracious and demanding to have prick plugging
her pussy.
     Suddenly, Willie rammed his cock far into her and Mavis knew
he was shooting his thick, creamy stuff into the never-to-be-
again-virgin.
     "Aaaaahhhh---oooohhhh---Goooood!" Becky squealed with
pleasure as Willie's prick hosed her twat full of male juice.
     Mavis watched until Willie slowly extracted his cock from
Becky's vibrating vagina and dropped onto his haunches so he could
tongue out her pussy and worm his folded tongue into her asshole.
     Mavis enjoyed her own, self-induced climax and listened to
Becky have an anal cum as Willie squirreled his tongue around
inside the small woman's hot butt hole.



                            Chapter 11

     At last, Willie stumbled to his feet and into his bathroom
helping the trembling Becky into a chair as he went.  Mavis
regained her composure and stepped into Willie's office.  With a
hand on the back of Becky's chair she peered down at the naked
girl, at the heaving tits that were still pointed with
unaccustomed passion.
     Becky's thighs were pressed together, but Mavis could see the
remnants of jizz oozing from her snatch and glazing her inner
thighs.  One of Becky's hands was on her mound, fingers twirling
tendrils of strawberry blonde pubic hair.  The girl's eyes were
closed and she was still experiencing the after explosions of
orgasm, enjoying the thunderous sensation of having a man's cock
pumping into her pussy for the first time.
     Mavis frowned.  "Get dressed, Becky," she said softly, then
whirled to stalk into Willie's private bathroom.  She grinned.  He
had really had a blast and was straining to force pee through his
swollen tube.  Clear syrup dripped from the gaping slit as he
grunted with Herculean effort.  Then his water started.
     It was then Mavis knotted her fingers into a fist and struck
him with all her strength---right where his bent-out cock was
rooted to his crotch.  She swung again and belted him in the yo-
yoing balls.
     The shock even shut off Willie's scream.  She hit him again
in the gonads; again---right on his cunt-slimed tusk.  He wilted
to the floor on his back in misery.
     "I know your game, Willie!  And you won't get my dough!  You
can have whatever you want---from others ---but not from me!"
Mavis turned and called to Becky, "In here, honey!"
     When Becky weaved into the small bathroom, Mavis said to
Willie, "Tell her what she has to do!"
     Willie seemed to put his pain out of his mind as he stared at
his recent conquest who had gotten dressed.  "You will come back
every week," he said.
     "And you will fuck me twenty times---and give me a thousand
dollars, Mr. Quentin," Becky nodded, a feverish light in her eyes.
     "Yeeesss," Willie mumbled.
     "When do I come back for our next fuck?" Becky smiled wanly.
     "We---shall---fuck---again---Wednesday," Willie muttered,
flopping slowly back on the floor, one hand holding his big balls,
the other nursing his aching penis.
     "Yes, Mr. Quentin---you will fuck me again Wednesday ..."

                           *    *    *

     Mavis led Becky to her old car, eased the slip of a woman
into the passenger's seat.  Then she drove back to the bank and
redeposited the thousand dollars. She smiled at Becky when she
returned to the car.  Becky wore a wistful expression, "I had IT!
I seemed to go all to pieces!  You know what Mr. Quentin did to
me, don't you, Mrs. Moran?  He put his man-thing in me---
fuuuncceckkked me!  And ..." her voice turned dreamy, thoughtful
... "I liked it!  It hurt a little bit at first, especially when
he seemed to tear me!"
     That's when she lost her cherry, Mavis mused, driving off.
Oh, what a lovely baby---and BODY!---Mavis pouted, deftly
adjusting the mirror so she could glance up and see Becky's
reflection as she drove.  She wished Becky would relax, spread her
knees---but she knew that Willie's jizz coated her inner legs.
Damn!  She would take Becky home and spruce her up!
     Mavis almost swept through a traffic signal.  What was she
thinking?  How come her heart pounded so frantically and
irregularly?  She had heard---had read ... did she have hot nuts
to love this dainty, vibrant young woman?  Was she contemplating
girl-girl love?  Oh, my God! Mavis wailed mentally.  Yes, she
wanted to undress the little Becky, see her nudity, put her hands
on that smooth, satiny skin!
     Then what would she do?  Mavis' mouth turned dry ... then it
was secreting juices, fast as she could swallow.  Were these love
juices?  Her vision was filled with the traffic and green trees
and children gamboling on smooth sidewalks---and ripe young tittie
points!
     Mavis almost swooned as she drove into her own driveway.  She
had an insatiable craving to put her mouth where Willie's penis
had explored.  She was suddenly obsessed with the frantic desire
to eat Becky's tender young pussy!
     Becky was docile as a pet as Mavis led her into the house,
into the kitchen where she mixed two screw-drivers.  Mavis turned
to see Becky sip her drink, melt to the floor, sit Indian-fashion.
And she noticed that the little strawberry blonde hadn't bothered-
--or thought about skinning into her panties.
     The pooch of her pussy allowed no hint that a huge prick had
bored into those sweet lips, stretched them into a big doughnut!
Mavis braced herself against the dinette table as she stared at
that gorgeous young snatch, the puffy mound and pouting, full lips
that now clung together---oh, so inviting to be pressed and
kissed.
     Mavis clutched the edge of the table until the tips of her
fingers ached.  She longed to touch-tease a little---purse---part-
--caress---tug that reddish, curly hair that adorned the mound
like a valuable crown of spun gold---put a finger in that orifice
that, oh, so short a time ago had been plugged with a massive
pecker that had gunned it full of vile male jizz!
     Mavis wanted to finish what Willie had left undone.  She
yearned to lick those puffy, pinkish lips and siphon out all of
that secretion of lust.  She wanted to suck Becky's cunny, clean,
purify and launch that gorgeous ass into sexy orbit and hear those
nasty, pleadings ...  "Ffffuuucccckkmmmeee!"
     There was a wistful, pouty smile on Becky's lips, a dreamy
look of MMMMOOOOORRRRREEEEE in her greenish eyes.  Although
passion was mounting in Mavis' loins, she sensed a hot, burning
dryness.  She didn't know how, but she just knew she could do so
much for the tender Becky.  Conversely, she knew that Becky could
do something for her.
     "Did it hurt---Becky---when he broke your---cherry?  Did his
big cock hurt you when he shoved it into your---pussy?  How did
it---feel---getting your first---fuck---from such a huge---cock?"
     She watched Becky and frowned as the small young woman shook
her head, tossed her beautiful hair.  "Was his thing---big?  He
did fuck me---didn't he?  That is the word---FUCK?"
     Mavis peered at her intently as Becky stared into her eyes.
She seemed dazed, disbelieving.  "I was saving myself for---Dell!
And Mr. Quentin stripped me naked---and played his hands on my
body---squeezed my boobies---pushed his thing at me ... INTO ME
... and FUCKKKKKEDDDDMMMEE! ...  He took my maidenhead ...  F-U-C-
K-E-D meeeeeee!  I hurt---for a little mite of time!  Then it was
goooooood!  I liked his fucking me!"
     Mavis inhaled deeply.  She was puzzled.  She wanted to
scratch her own snatch.
     "He's a liar!  Dell wouldn't steal from anyone!  He lied!  He
conned me!  At first, before I realized what was going on, I was
terrified.  I didn't understand until after he shoved his cock
into me, broke my cherry and fucked me!  But I loved it!  I wish
he was here now!  That b-a-s-t-a-r-d!  I would make him fuck me
right now!  I like fucking and to be fucked!"
     Mavis couldn't understand why she felt so weak as she mixed a
pitcher of screwdrivers and urged Becky to her feet.  The young
woman said nothing as Mavis steered her upstairs to the master
bedroom.  How can I fuck her? Mavis worried, refilling their
glasses and watching Becky drift onto the huge double bed.  I can
kiss her pussy and suck it and tongue it and dip my tongue into
her vagina!  I can---I can try to work my tongue into her asshole
and make her cum like Willie did!
     Becky slugged at her drink as Mavis ran a full tub of extra-
warm water.  She cooed and purred as Mavis undressed her,
assisting the removal of her clothing by turning, lifting ...
lifting ... lifting.  Mavis almost fainted with sensual hunger as
Becky raised her fanny high, saluting the attention with a bump
and grind of her enticing, hairy crotch and puffed vulva.
     How can I fuck her? Mavis pondered, stripping out of her own
clothes.  How does one woman fuck another?  I can suck her---eat
her juicy, delectable hair-dish---but I can't fuck her!  Only a
man has a big prick and can fuck deep into a woman's pussy.
     She bent and kissed Becky's docile, pliant lips, let her
greedy mouth nuzzle, trail to capture one of Becky's succulent
tittie points.  Mavis sucked hard, felt Becky's timid hand
pressing into her own left breast.  She was reassured by Becky's
quickening breath ...
     Mavis would feel her way along.  She would bathe the young
thing good and bed her ... instinct would lead her ... maybe,
Becky would eat her pussy, too!  A hot shimmer shivered all
through Mavis' body as the thought steamed in her mind. It would
be wonderful to have a virgin love her cunt!  She gently tugged
Becky from the bed and urged her into the hot bath.  As she was
about to step in, too, the telephone rang.
     "Damnit!" Mavis swore softly, lunging back into the bedroom.
"Hello!"
     "This is Phil, Mavis; 'fraid I'll be tied up until at least
next Saturday.  The ginks who pulled this job think they are
pretty smart.  It's about the same type of setup as the guys were
talking about at the poker party.  The same chain store, as a
matter of fact.  No security.  One manager collects all of the
money.  Easy robbery.  But I think, in this case, it is one of the
armored van crews behind it.  Should have it solved by Friday
night.  These bastards don't know how to cover tracks ... anyone
with brains could rob these people and never be touched!  See ya
sometime Saturday."
     Mavis' tension and preoccupation with the naked young woman
in the bath tub had no chance to change before Phil broke the
connection.  He was gone.  All Mavis was left with was a vague,
nagging worry and the sexual opportunity for girl-girl adventure.
     Trembling with anticipation, Mavis returned to the bathroom,
pausing in the doorway to study the petite Becky who was lying in
the full tub of warm water, knees drawn up and flung apart, saucy
breast mounds bobbing firmly.  Her pretty lips arched slightly in
a smile of beautific contentment.  Her half-closed eyes almost
formed a question of what happens next, but not quite.
     When Mavis stepped into the tub, between Becky's feet, the
strawberry blonde woman drew herself up slightly in the tub to
make room for her.  Mavis shivered with pleasure as she squatted
and the hottish water lapped against her taut buttocks and
splashed into the gentle gape of her swollen, excited vulva.  She
felt her clitoris stiffening and extending out of its little
fleshy sheath and she was growing passionately hot.
     To restrain herself from all but attacking the enticing young
beauty, she picked up the large bar of perfumed soap in both hands
and began to rub it up and down the inner planes of Becky's silky
thighs.
     "Aaaaahhhh-ooooh!" Becky sighed, closing her eyes and tilting
her head back as Mavis worked the smooth soap up and down her
legs, each stroke reaching nearer and nearer the glorious vee of
those perfect legs.  She has a healthy fur patch, Mavis squinted
at Becky's gently rounded pussy that had accommodated such an
enormous cock for the first time just a short time before.  She
had to admit there was no evidence that Willie's penis had
stretched it out of shape.  She was young, her labia very elastic
and resilient, Mavis marveled, at last grazing the puffy flesh
with its lavish growth of curly pubic hair.
     "Aaaaahhhh!" Becky murmured and Mavis could see the muscles
crawl in Becky's pussy, then up over her curvy body to rub the
proud titties with erect nipples.
     "Ooooooohhhhhh-la-laaaaa!" Becky cooed as Mavis built a rich
lather on the firm melons with the bar in one hand and using the
other to caress and squeeze and tease the dark brownish-pink
point.  You're a sensuous young lady, Mavis thought, letting the
soap slip away and using both hands on Beckons breasts.  Why
haven't you let Dell get into you before this?  There are a few of
us who know that he is a virile young stud with a very adequate
and eloquent tuba.  Didn't he gun me and Connie and Miriam full of
thick he-cream?  How did you manage to keep him out of your sexy
saddle? Mavis wanted to ask as she trailed her hands down over
Becky's narrow waist and let her fingers dally with Becky's pert
mound and the tight crease formed by the lips of her almost
virginal snatch.
     "Did it hurt when Willie broke your cherry?" Mavis asked,
forgetting she had asked the question before.
     "A little," Becky murmured.  "But it was more surprise and
not really knowing what to expect from his big dick than anything
else.  He was really quite gentle, in a way.  I have heard and
read that often a girl's first experience with coitus is the next
thing to being butchered.  But Mr. Quentin really fucked me quite
gently.  God!  Is his thing huge!  But," and Mavis frowned at the
faint smirk on Becky's lips, "I'm already looking forward to the
next time he fucks me.  I wish there was some way I could watch
Dell at work while Mr. Quentin fucks me, not knowing his fiancee
was being screwed!"
     Mavis was stunned slightly by the sex ingenue's frank
admission.  In spite of her fairly broad sexual experiences, Mavis
was in doubt that she could function to any degree of satisfaction
if Phil were watching some other man fuck her!
     Becky's satisfied purring ended Mavis' distraction and she
glanced down at Becky's squirming body to see that her fingers had
parted the full, ripe petals and had dipped into the full blossom
of Becky's aroused swat.  "Let's get out and dry," Mavis said,
almost curtly.
     Mavis' passion had cooled somewhat and she stepped away from
Becky and the two of them dried themselves.  Becky seemed to be
pouting.  Had she expected Mavis to dry and excite her with the
towel?  A quick glance told Mavis that Becky wanted more by-play,
wanted hands on her naked body.  As passionate as she was, Mavis
mused, how had she managed to keep some man from getting to her,
romping between those golden thighs in bed or the back seat of a
car?
     And how innocent was she?  The crude, vulgar words sprang
easily from her lips ... the coarse words had never come freely
and with ease with her.  She had had a variety of men chunk the
meat into her before she would even permit her mind to shape the
word, fuck!  Yet, Becky spoke it like a hard-bitten whore!  Well,
what the hell?  She raked the rough towel through her crotch and
tingled the clit and she almost gasped aloud with sensual
pleasure.
     She tossed the towel into a hamper and reached into a closet
for a bottle with an atomizer.  Squatting halfway to the floor,
Mavis sprayed her genital area with the sting-less cologne, then
under her arms.  Without a word, she handed the bottle with the
rubber bulb to Becky who followed suit.
     "At least we have nice-smelling cunnies," Mavis smiled,
patting Becky on the pert behind and fingering the enticing crease
of her butt.
     "I like Mr. Quentin's spray hose and perfume,"
Becky giggled.  "Maybe we oughta get him over here and milk him
dry---take turns.  I've heard of gals gang-banging a guy as well
as the other way around!"
     "How about Dell?" Mavis asked, deliberately attempting to cut
the young woman.
     "Weeeellll, why not?" Becky smirked, striding naked ahead of
Mavis into the bedroom and pouring a fresh drink.
     Maybe what little they had drunk had induced Becky to speak
so easily and profusely about---screwing! Mavis mused.  What
baffled her was how to proceed with her seduction of this juicy
young thing.  Mavis was itchy with anticipation and heat was
generating all through her tummy as she watched the healthy young
animal set aside her empty glass and crawl into the center of the
bed.  "Mavis," Becky said hesitantly, invitingly, "please play
with me and---see if you can give me those tingly thrills Mr.
Quentin did.  Please?"
     Straightforward, Mavis suppressed a frown.  But what, really,
do I do?  She had been tight and only vaguely remembered the sex-
working-over she, herself, had received from Miriam and Connie.
Maybe she should call them!
     Hell, no!  She wanted this pliant young sex-gadget for
herself.  Mavis was giddy and a little awkward as she climbed onto
the bed with her tits swaying gently.
     "Oooooohhhhh, Mavis!" Becky breathed, "you have beautiful
boobies.  Let's have some real fun!  I've heard that girls can
make each other feel sooooo gooooood!  Kiss my titties and I'll
kiss yours.  I think we're going to have a yummy afternoon!  Oh,
golly! my hole---both holes---itch and twitch and burn!"
     Mavis maneuvered across Becky so that she could suck onto one
of Becky's hard little nipples and her own left breast was pressed
firmly against Becky's face.  Instantly, Becky's hot little tongue
curled around a tittie point and it was nursed into Becky's wet,
avid mouth.  Christ! she thought, she had never sucked another
girl's tit before.  She liked it!  And she knew, instinctively,
she would have no hang-ups about tonguing and sucking Becky's
aromatic pussy!  She cupped a hand firmly over Becky's hairy
snatch and the young woman began squirming and writhing on the
sheet.  "Put your finger in my cunny, Mavis!" Becky begged as
Mavis cleaved the hot lips and fingered the dainty sex-nub.
     As she nibbled a nipple, then licked Becky's arm-pit, Mavis
hoped, fervently, that the hot young thing would mouth---love her
pussy---the way Mavis was going to eat hers.
     Slowly, carefully, Mavis shifted position, swung her left leg
over Becky and lowered her bottom toward the small woman's
upturned face.  The girl's lips and mouth continued to work in a
suckling manner after Mavis had withdrawn her breast berry.  She
stopped when she could feel Becky's breath gently fanning against
her anus and parted crease.
     As Mavis nestled her own face into Becky's perfumed crotch,
Becky's legs rose straight into the air, thighs flung wide, and
Mavis was able to plow her tongue into the juicy groove and dip it
deep into the vibrating vagina. At the same time, she pressed her
own hairy snatch against Becky's face and her love-partner latched
her mouth onto the full folds of tender flesh and dived her tongue
into Mavis' hungry pussy.
     Becky began shuddering first, then Mavis couldn't control her
own thunderous pleasure that rippled through her loins. In unison,
they started gurgling, "Ooooohhh---Aaaaaghhh!"
     Their climaxes were shattering.  Becky was bucking and up-
fucking with her bottom as her legs latched behind Mavis' neck.
And Mavis sucked deeply and snaked her tongue far into the girl's
steaming pussy and reveled in the grip of inner muscles and she
lapped greedily.  And Becky was sucking noisily and chewing gently
on the thick, swollen passion-petals of Mavis' fuck-receptacle.
     Later, they lay entwined in each other's arms, hot fifties
crushed together, sleek thighs working together as they rubbed
their Venus mounds together, girl-fucking ...



                            Chapter 12

     Mavis awoke slowly, grateful that she could abandon the
subconscious and the nightmare of reality she had lived the past
few weeks.  She felt funny, tingly all over.  She worked a hand
under the sheet and touched her highly sensitive breasts.  Then
her hand slid lower and she found her crowning glory was, indeed,
gone.  Her mound was smooth-skinned and she couldn't find a single
tendril of curly hair on her puffed, sensitive outer labia.  The
nurses HAD shorn her completely.  Phil had told her so, but she
wasn't sure he had talked to her or whether it was all part of a
dream.
     But her crotch was smooth and slick and a trifle raw from the
effects of the tape and the razor.  She pulled her foot up under
the sheet and spread her knees wide.  Well, she thought, eyes
darting about the hospital room, that bastard hadn't damaged
anything but her pride, really.  She pressed a finger into her
vulva.  "All the working parts are intact," she giggled softly.
     She wondered what all those cops had thought, finding her and
Willie tied up in his office, without a stitch on and their
genital areas swathed in adhesive tape.  She knew she should feel
a sense of embarrassment at having strange men see her naked but
there was only relief that they had been rescued.  Poor Willie!
Mavis would bet the hospital had had a hell of a time getting the
tape off his hard-on---and he probably didn't have a hair left on
his balls!
     Mavis wolfed a breakfast of fruit juice, hot cereal toast,
coffee and two poached eggs.  She was enjoying her third cup of
coffee when her husband swept into the room, kissed her quickly
and reached under the bedclothes to cup her hairless pussy.  "This
will be like screwing a ten-year-old virgin," he teased.
     "I was raped, Phil," Mavis frowned, worried eyes studying
his.
     "It could be worse, baby," Phil said, kissing her forehead
and clasping one of her hands.  "No real damage done."
     "Did you screw Miriam that night?" she blurted suddenly.
     "Let's put it this way," Phil replied softly, strolling away,
his back to her as he stared out the only window in the room.  "I
was a little drunk---and she screwed me."
     "Hank got to me, too," she confessed, holding her breath,
fearful of male denunciation growing from injured ego.  She almost
screamed at him to say something, he was so silent for so long.
     Finally, Phil turned and winked solemnly, reassuringly.  "I
guess we're even on that score."
     Conversation was stalled for a minute as a nurse entered with
a fresh pot of coffee and an extra cup, for Phil.  "How about more
coffee?" she smiled superfluously and was gone.
     "The robbers got about $238,000 in cash and another $22,000
in checks," Phil said slowly, filling their cups.  "The bonding
company has banned me from the case."
     "Why?" Mavis said with a start, and an old fear assailed her
again.  Was Phil involved in the robbery?  Was he under suspicion?
She had heard the men all talking about how easy it would be to
rob Willie!
     "I'm an acquaintance---a friend---of Willie's.  Even Hank has
been taken off the case by the Salt Lake Police Department---for
the same reason."
     "Who's investigating?" Mavis asked weakly
     "The SLCPD---and Ben Glover for the bonding company."
     "Why Glover?" Mavis fretted.  "He's an acquaintance of Willie
and Hank and you!"
     "Not a close friend," Phil said bluntly, "certainly not a
neighbor like Hank and me."
     Mavis didn't like the tight, cold knot in her stomach.  Was
Phil involved?  She wanted to, but knew she didn't dare ask.
     "Well, I don't care," Phil laughed, seemingly relaxed and
sincere.  "It's going to be a tough one to crack.  A real
professional job.  The two armored van guards---they were
chloroformed or something and didn't, really, see a thing.  Hell!
They lost another couple of hundred grand or so from their rig!"
     They finished their coffee and Mavis watched Phil pick up the
small suitcase he had set just inside the door.  "I brought you
some clothes.  Why don't you get dressed and let's go home?"
     Mavis smiled happily, threw back the sheet and scrambled off
the bed.  For a minute, she surveyed her reddened, irritated
fifties and hairless pubic mound.  "I don't think I like being
hairless," she complained wistfully.
     "I like it," Phil grinned, a finger nudging the unwhiskered
smile of her pussy and a hand caressing the smooth cheeks of her
butt.
     "Don't mess," Mavis said sulkily, remembering that Miriam
shaved her crotch.  Had her husband enjoyed fucking Miriam? she
fretted on the way home.  A sense of frustration almost
overwhelmed her.  Phil liked Miriam's slick cunt---and he hadn't
diddled her in a long time!  Well, she had to admit that Hank had
given her a real humping in the kitchen!  And Willie certainly
knew how to get a girl to spin like a sex top!  And Dell had made
her cum, like wowee!  And Erroll Flynn---the Carrs' Boxer!  And
les-love had its kicks!  The robber-rapist she hadn't enjoyed at
all!
     As she and Phil approached the back door, Mavis remembered
something that caused her to stop.  She remembered, as the robber
dropped his coveralls and shorts and she stared at his dong, she
had seen a wart on the left side, about an inch back of the dark,
swollen glans.  And it had raked the wall of her vagina with a
certain tantalizing effect.
     If she saw that penis again, she would know who had fucked
her!  Maybe she should tell Henry Carr what she remembered!  She
shook her head and frowned at her own stupidity.  She could just
hear Hank say, "How do I put out an all-points bulletin for a guy
with a wart on his pecker?"
     In the house, as Phil mixed a couple of scotch and waters,
Mavis was still preoccupied and troubled.  Phil hadn't been
perturbed that she had been raped---hadn't seem particularly
affected by her announcement that Hank had pumped the prick to
her.  Well, he had admitted he had prickered Miriam's pussy!
     Should she tell him about the robber-rapist?  Maybe he would
be peeved to find his wife paid close attention to a man's dingus
before he socked it to her cunt!
     What the hell!  She was getting tired of being a sex captive,
of sorts.  "The guy who banged me during the robbery had a wart on
his shaft!" she blurted.  "About an inch behind the head!"
     Instead of being irritated by the admission his wife
inspected pricks before they were stabbed into her snatch, Phil
seemed to beam.  "Goddamn!  I feel this has to be a close-to-home
heist!  And that may be just the clue we need!"  Then he wilted
slightly.  "How the hell do you find a guy with a wart on his
business?"
     Mavis shrugged.  That was similar to the comment she would
expect from Police Lieutenant Henry Carr.
     The gnawing worry that her husband had something to do with
the supermarket robbery lingered with Mavis.  "Whom do you
suspect, Phil?" she asked cautiously.
     "Absolutely nobody at this time," he frowned.  "It was a
real, professional job!"  That didn't make Mavis feel any better;
her husband, because of his background in insurance investigation,
could qualify as an expert in such a venture.
     "I wouldn't want any of the money," she said timidly.
     "You wouldn't want part of about four-hundred grand?" Phil
chuckled dryly.  "All in unmarked, untraceable bills!"  Mavis felt
like crying
     About three o'clock, the Carrs came over and Mavis was
grateful for the break in the awkwardness between Phil and her.
     "Willie has a slight concussion and the blackest eye I ever
saw," Hank chuckled as Phil served drinks.
     "And eight inches of the rawest meat this side of the butcher
shop!" Miriam laughed.  "That oughta keep his sausage out of a
girl's grinder for a while!"
     "When they took all of that tape off Mavis," Phil said with
his slow, shy, engaging grin, "they ..." he paused to sip his
scotch ..." I guess I'll have to get her a hairpiece."
     "They shaved her?" Miriam chortled with glee.
     Mavis reddened.
     "Smooth as Miriam?" Hank grinned.
     "Absolutely!" Phil replied.
     "I'll be damned!" Hank almost choked on his drink and a
sliver of ice.
     "You'd be shaved---not damned!" Miriam corrected.  "I've
never seen a man without bushes and bushes of cockle hair!"
     And Mavis knew that Phil, truly, had screwed Miriam---and
Hank knew it.  And Phil and Miriam knew that she had been
plundered by Hank's cock; his stallion had stampeded all through
her sex corral!
     Mavis glanced at Phil and recognized he wasn't about to
mention her knowledge that one of the robbers had a wart on his
dong!  And she wouldn't say anything, either.
     "How much does the police know about the job," Phil asked,
rising to mix another round and sauntering out to the kitchen for
a couple of cigars from the refrigerator.
     "I found out that there was no death in the family of one of
Willie's employees---the cashier, I think.  That's about all I
found out before I was taken off the case early this morning.  The
notice really came from Ogden, not Los Angeles."
     "What do you really think, Hank? An 'inside' job?" Phil
pursued.
     "Who can tell, at this time?  I know that I took two weeks of
my vacation, starting today when I was relieved of the
investigation."
     Were their friends and neighbors involved?  Mavis fretted,
wishing she wasn't getting drunk so she could think clearly.  She
tried to recall, in detail, the animal-like thrusts of the
robber's cock into her cunt.  She remembered, not quite clearly,
the rasp of the wart in her vagina as he fucked her.  It had sent
sharp electrical sparks all through her pelvic region as it rasped
the wall of her channel.  Then he had sunk his cock deep and shot
her full of his jizz.
     She couldn't remember---but she didn't recall that Willie had
a wart on his dong.  And she had watched it all taped up.  Hell!
She had even jacked him off to make him hard!  But she couldn't
remember.  Oh, that didn't figure.  He had been bound into his
chair and the guy who had screwed her while she was all tied up
was the guy with the node on his pussy-knocker!  I guess I am
getting drunk!  She hadn't seen Hank's packer.  He had fucked her
from behind, in the dark kitchen.  She didn't know whether she had
felt a wart or not.  She had been tense and apprehensive.  Who
else had fucked her?  She wasn't sure about Dell Emerson; that had
been almost like rape---under threat.
Who?  She had seen Glover's cock, vaguely, as he plunged it into
Terry Lewis.  But it had been dark.  Oh, damn!  She was starting
to suspect everyone she knew.  It probably was none of them---she
hoped.
     But, if she could find the guy with the wart on his penis,
she would have one of the gangsters.  And that might lead to the
others.  There was one thing she had to do---that was clear in her
alcohol-fuzzed brain---to find the guy with the raspy little lump
on the side of his peter!
     How?  Maybe she would start up or down through the ranks and
screw the most likely suspects.  Why not Hank first?  He was here!
     The prospect of a hunt for a certain pecker started a warm
tingling in her loins and Mavis sensed hot juices perking all
through her itching vagina.  She nodded as Miriam excused herself
to go to the bathroom.  Then Henry remembered a telephone call he
wanted to make and said, "I'll use the extension in the kitchen."
     As soon as Mavis and Phil were alone, her husband asked, "Do
you suppose Hank might be THE guy?  You really don't remember from
the night he pumped his prick to you?"
     Mavis frowned. "No, I don't."
     She remembered the exquisite sensation of having her twat
filled with mammoth prick and his harsh hairiness rasping against
her fanny cheeks and the backs of her thighs.  But a wart on his
sex-pole?  No.
     "Maybe you should take steps to find out," Phil said, frankly
inviting her to take on Hank as if he had no more concern about
his wife screwing another man than if he had suggested that she
start dinner.
     "Oh, Phil!" Mavis demurred.  And she was troubled again by
the possibility of identifying the robber who had fucked her.
What if he did turn out to be one of their close acquaintances---
and Phil were involved?  Yet, maybe he wasn't a party to the
crime.  She just couldn't visualize her husband standing by and
letting some guy screw her during the robbery when it wasn't
necessary.  However, it occurred to her, he could have been part
of the gang and had remained outside the store.
     Oh, Christ!  She didn't know whom to suspect!  "Phil, you
don't really think our friends could be involved, do you?"
     "If I were investigating this thing---which I'm not---I would
look at it as an inside job," Phil said, "and that includes
Willie."
     "Not Willie, honey," Mavis protested.  "You didn't see the
way that guy slugged him."
     "Maybe you're right about Willie," Phil shrugged as Henry and
Miriam rejoined them.  "There's one way we---you---can start
eliminating possibilities."
     And this meaning was obvious---seduce the suspects!
     After Phil had distributed fresh drinks, Mavis frowned at
him.  "Okay!  But no one is going to watch!"
     Phil only answered with a grin, nodding as Mavis shifted
position casually on the sofa and let her skirt brush high up on
her thighs.  Her sex scenery wasn't missed by Hank's eyes and
Mavis thought she detected a telltale swelling as he steamed up
slightly.
     It would be no trouble to seduce Hank---but she was damned if
she were going to let Miriam and Phil watch her examine Hank's
dong for a wart, then flop onto her back and let him fuck her!
     Well, get Miriam out of here!  Mavis fretted mentally.  If
I'm going to lay Hank, I want both of you out of here!  Hank's
eyes were drawn to her parted knees, trying to stare up her skirt
to her panty-clad pussy.  And Mavis felt his gaze was almost a
physical touch on her bare skin and she was beginning to get a
little hot.  She leaned toward her husband and said softly, a
little bitchily, "It's been a long time since I've seen yours---
maybe you've developed a wart in that time."
     "Bullshit!" Phil snapped and Mavis watched him shuffle on the
sofa, noticeably uncomfortable and perhaps a little guilty.
     "We're about out of booze," Phil said offhandedly.  "I think
I better take a trip to the liquor store.  Who wants to go along?
Hank?  Miriam?  Just to make sure I can find my way back."
     "Let me go, Phil," Miriam said quickly.  "I want to get some
things at the supermarket and the pharmacy next door."
     Mavis turned her head to hide a scowl.  You slut!  You want
to get in my husband's pants again!
     "Okay, let's go," Phil said amiably, clearly pleased that
Miriam was going with him.  And Mavis pouted, And yon want another
crack at her cookie jar!
     In seconds, Mavis was left alone with Hank whose eyes were
becoming glazed with passion as he continued trying to penetrate
her panties with his eyes to explored her freshly shaved crotch.
She spread her legs a little wider, giving him a totally
unobstructed view of the silk-covered joy place.  "You old dog,"
she said lightly, "you want to bury your bone in it, don't you?"
     She winked at him as he gulped his drink.  You bastard,
stare!  I know you didn't see it that night, it was too dark in
the kitchen.  All you got was a lustful feel and you shoved it to
me from behind and unloaded your fizz.  Well, I'll get a good look
at it today!
     Mavis didn't have to force a dazzling smile of invitation.
She was beginning to appreciate Hank's lecherous stare up her
dress.  She squirmed slightly and her dress was rolled up in her
lap and her long, tapering legs were in full view.  Hank feasted
his eyes on the inner softness of her creamy thighs and the rich
curve of her pussy.
     "I don't expect them back for a while," Mavis murmured.
"Wanta finish what you started the other night?"
     "What?" Hank muttered, a little dumbly, his mouth working as
if he were already gobbling her pussy.  Mavis made the muscles
slither in her thighs and Hank's eyes bulged.
     "You didn't give me a complete fucking," she smiled, slowly
unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it off.  She arched her back,
lifting her bra-encased titties high.  "Like?" she teased as she
removed the bra and moved her body from side to side, causing her
ripe boobies to jounce before Hank's feverish gaze.  "You just had
your own jollies" she pouted, "a girl likes to be fucked with a
good prick until she has her fun, too.  And you have such a
magnificent cock, Hank," she added, praising and flattering him,
but meaning it, too.
     His big meat was wonderful; it had filled her cunny to the
brim.  And she was getting more anxious to crack his big nuts and
have his thick cream whipped in her churning box.
     And it was obvious, from the husky bulge in Hank's trousers
that he was well-armed, even though he had left his police
revolver at home, that he was getting huge, and had a high-caliber
gun barrel.  Just the banana for her hot split!
     Mavis' vagina was crawling with the sensation of an active
sponge, twitching in its eagerness to soak up Hank's ready
phallus.  She stood and leaned forward slightly, tempting Hank
with her full titties, tips swollen and hard.  She hoisted her
skirt from the back, not letting him see her, and grasped the
waistband of her panties.  She worked them off over her rump and
down her long legs.  She let them skid to the floor and kicked
them off, giving Hank only a flirty glimpse above her knees.  She
was all but ready, yet Hank was still fully clothed.  Get naked,
she was tempted to shout at him.  Let me examine that big thing of
pours, then let's fuck!
     "Is this a one-sided exhibition?" Mavis challenged, turning
her back to Hank and shaking out of her skirt.  She stood
motionless for nearly a minute, letting him ogle her naked back
and full buttocks.  She worked the muscles, pinching the half
moons of her ass firmly against the long, curving crease.
     She didn't want him from the rear this time; she wanted him
between her spraddled thighs with her feet kicking high in the air
so she could gobble all of his massive cock in her cunt mouth.
     Mavis was aware of a warm stickiness between her legs as she
crawled onto the sofa and lay down, careful to draw up her right
leg to shield her shaved pussy from Hank's lustful eyes.  Jeez!
How they burned with passion, the heat in them a match for the
fire raging deep in her womb.  "Get your clothes off, Hank!"  She
had almost forgotten, in her rising frenzy to be serviced and
sated by his long stud-tool, that she was only doing this in order
to try to trap the robber who had plugged her twat while she was
helpless.  God!  She wanted cock in her snatch!  She needed a
vigorous sex-romp with male meat pounding long and smooth into her
vag!  Well, it wouldn't take much time to inspect Hank's hot, hard
shaft for a wart then they would fuck!
     "Hurry!" she panted, wiggling her fingers in his direction.
She couldn't keep her fanny from lurching in coital grinds on the
sofa.  It kept bouncing erratically as erotic flames leaped and
seared her viscous swat.  Her flanks heaved and her loins ached
and her vagina clutched hungrily for a meal of fat cock.  She
smiled encouragingly as he stood and began undressing.  In
seconds, after she checked his tusk she would have him inside her
pumping the prick to her, relieving the sensual tensions.  God!
She needed a cum!
     "Hurry, fuck-partner," she begged, "I want that huge prick in
me!  I want it fucked in deep!"
     Mavis didn't have to look down at herself to know that the
puffy pussy lips were gaping in a slight smile and her vulva was
like a greedy mouth waiting to devour Hank's cock-sirloin.  And---
there it was!---he had plenty of it.  Long!  Thick!  Hard as an
oak branch!  A wonderful fuck-tool!
     She watched Hank approach, stiff-legged, his big bone
wobbling from side to side as he walked.  Then she reached with a
trembling hand to tease his big nuts with the tips of her fingers.
Tenderly, she seized his shaft near the hair-matted base and bent
it toward her.  She was tempted to suck him off, it looked so
delicious!  She slid the thick, tight skin back.  She had milked
down a lot of cocks and she knew she could make him cum by jacking
him off---with only a few strokes.  God!  His shaft was rock-hard
and hot as a poker! She didn't want him to shoot his goodies under
the goadings of her hand.  She wanted him to hose his jizz into
her sex-starved pussy!
     She gripped it tight and studied the thick-skinned dong.
There wasn't a sign of a wart.  He wasn't the man who had screwed
her during the robbery of Willie's store.  Well, she wasn't going
to be left empty-handed---empty-handed?  She had a handful of
magnificent pussy-pleaser and she was going to have this massive
male member crammed into her snatch, hauled out and rammed back in
and she was going to cum and cum and CUM!
     "Okay," she said huskily, shuffling on the sofa to make room
for his spread knees between her parted thighs.  "Let's have fun!
Come on, Hank, let's fuck!"
     As he positioned himself between her veed legs, knees against
her tense ass, she seized his prick in both hands.  "I'll guide it
in," she panted, pressing the pear-shaped knob into her vulva,
massaging the red inner lips, then aiming it against the
fluttering opening to her ravenous snatch.
     "Aaaaaahhhhhhh," she whimpered with passionate anticipation
as Hank slowly nudged his cockhead into her throbbing vagina.
"Ooooooohhhhhhhhh, sooooooo goooooodddddd!  Fucking is such
ffffuuuunnnnn!" she dug her nails into his shoulders, leaving red
tracings of her wantonness.
     She jerked her fanny up and down and around to assist Hank as
he slowly drove his shaft all of the way into her until his hairy
balls bounced against her up-tilted butt.  The pucker string of
her anus felt like a burning ring of fire.  "God!  Fuck me, Hank.
Fuck me hard and make me cum!" she begged.
     Wham!  Bang!  After several slurpy, industrious pumps, Mavis
felt she was about to shatter.  His cock's head slammed past the
cervix, into the womb.  There was the pungent aroma of male and
female sex-heat thick in her narrowed nares as Hank fucked her
faster and faster.
     Sloosh!  Sloosh!  Sloosh!
     His prick plunged in and out of her cunt.
     "I'm cuunummmmiiiinnnng!"
     A scream of rapture bounced off the walls and the ceiling as
Hank pounded the cod into her and she humped her ass to meet his
pistoning cock-thrusts.  Spasms of erotic pleasure gripped her and
her whole body felt like flowing lava.
     She didn't have the robber between her legs, but she had a
master-fucker riding and bouncing and bucking in her fuck-saddle.
And he really knew how to thud the meat to a girl.
     "Fffffuuuucccckkkk mmeeee faster and deeeeppppeeeerrrr!"
     She was like a shooting star and sparks of passion seemed to
be exploding everywhere.  She wouldn't have cared less as she
careened through her violent pleasure had she known that her
husband and Miriam were parked in the Carr garage with the double
door closed.
     Phil was sipping raw scotch from a bottle as Miriam sucked
him off, savoring his cock and giving him a sapping blow-job.
     She was in the thrall of her fifth climax and Hank was
gunning his jizz into her snatch as Miriam and Phil shifted into
the back seat to fuck until their sex-heat steamed up the car
windows.



                            Chapter 13

     Mavis awoke with the sweet realization that she was naked
atop the covers in hers and Phil's bedroom.  My husband, she
thought, must haste carried me upstairs to bed.  She stretched
slowly, deliciously.  Criminy!  Hank Carr gave me a good fuck!
     Her cunny still crawled and convulsed with the pleasure of
having his huge cock socked into it.
     With eyes still closed, Mavis caressed her firm titties and
pinched the nipples.  One thing, though, she frowned: Hank wasn't
the robber who had raped her.  She reviewed the situation quickly.
And it hadn't been Willie Quentin.  And she was positive it wasn't
Dell Emerson.  Who?  Her quest for the man with the tantalizing
growth---or wart---on the side of his penis might never be
fulfilled.  She could fuck all the Mormons and Catholics in Utah
and still not find him!  What a helluva way to try to help her
husband crack a robbery---bed all the men around!
     Mavis stifled a giggle.  What a delightful way to conduct an
investigation ... give all the suspects the third degree between
her thighs, grilling them---and their peters---in her pussy!
     She turned onto her side and opened her eyes slowly.  She
squinted and smiled broadly.  Phil was lying on his hack beside
her.  He was blessed with a massive hard-on and his husky gonads
were rolled high in their crinkled sac.
     Delicately, Mavis raked a fingernail across the purplish head
and restrained the desire to laugh as her hubby's stomach muscles
crawled and his erect penis trembled.  Gentry, she jacked him off,
just running the tip of an index finger over his thick shaft,
working the tight, thick skin up and down.
     Phil groaned; his ass bucked upward to meet her touch.  "She
sucked the whole thing," Phil mumbled and a smile brightened his
expression.  "She ate and sucked and swallowed the whole thing."
     Mavis pouted, then frowned.  He was talking about Miriam
Carr.  It was clear to her.  Miriam had given Phil a blow-job---
and it was still in his mind.  She has to be a master at cock-
sucking, Mavis thought, if the pleasure she gives a man will
dominate his subconscious.  Mavis raised on an elbow to study her
husband.  Phil had been sucked off and he, obviously, had liked
the lips of a woman---Miriam---lapped around his dong slavering
and licking and sucking!
     "Christ!" Mavis whispered softly, "he still has lipstick all
over his packer---and it's matted in his cock hair and smeared all
over his belly and balls."
     You bastard! she swore softly, taking hold of his long, hot
shaft.  She began to masturbate him in a determined manner and his
body jerked rhythmically.
     "Oooooohhhhh," Phil mumbled.  "She sucked and ate the whole
thing."
     Mavis jacked him off with greater diligence, rising to use
both hands on his prick.  Faster and faster.  If it hadn't been
for Miriam's mouth paint all over her husband's genitals, she
would have been tempted to blow him herself!  But she drew the
line.  She decided she would see if he had any jizz left in his
reservoir ...
     "And he does ..." she smirked as she felt the tensing in his
pipe.  She worked harder on his joint.  "Shoot, you bastard!
Shoot your cum all over yourself!"
     She whipped her hands up and down on his cock and kept it up
all the time Phil ejaculated thick spurts of sperm all over his
belly, even up into his chest hair.
     He awakened with a start and frowned as he realized that
Mavis had jacked him off all over himself.  Then he grinned as she
scampered off the bed.  "At least Miriam didn't create a mess."
He swatted futilely at her naked butt.
     "She may have sucked you off and you didn't get cum all over
everything," Mavis corrected, "but she left you a mess---your club
all painted up for war.  I'll make some coffee."
     "It wasn't Hank, was it?" Phil called after her.
     "He doesn't have a wart on his dingus," Mavis replied.
     As Mavis was fixing breakfast, Phil received a telephone
call.  Over their third cups of coffee, he said, "I have to chase
my ass over to Reno.  That was my boss on the phone.  And,
according to him, I am more and more under suspicion in connection
with the robbery here."
     His tone was mild, but his bitterness wasn't concealed from
Mavis.  She saw his eyes briefly and the pain in them almost made
her cry.
     "Oh, how can they think you were mixed up in it?  You weren't
even in the area."
     "But I was in the area," Phil shook his head.  "I can't
account for some five hours of my time even though I was here, at
home, at the time the robbery occurred."
     Mavis turned away.  More than ever, she wished she could
strip away the mystery---that is, strip the robber, screw him, if
necessary, and find the man with the wart on his peter.
     She wished Phil didn't have to leave, but realized that being
busy, on an investigation, would be better for him than being
idle, waiting for something to happen.
     How, she wondered, could Willie and Hank be so blithe and
carefree about the robbery?  They just seemed to be so nonchalant
about the whole thing.  And her husband was the one who was
catching all of the hell!
     She was just kissing Phil good-bye when Terry Lewis drove up,
obviously a little tight.  The trim little pixie sauntered up,
wearing hot pants and weaving her vixen body enticingly.  "Mavis,
do you know where Connie and Miriam are?"
     Mavis suppressed a frown as she caught a brief glimpse of the
way her husband peered at the diminutive, but very seductive
little orangish blonde.
     "No," Mavis said, "I haven't seen them."  She was tempted to
tell her husband, Get the hell out of here, or fuck her right now,
on the lawn!
     It was indelibly in her mind, the wanton scenes of Terry
Lewis.  She was a fuck-kitten and, probably wouldn't object to
Phil's stripping her down to the buff, slamming her down on her
back or taking her on all fours.  Terry fairly oozed sex; an aroma
of fuck-fuck seemed to emanate from her every pore---not to
mention her crotch orifice!
     "I'll call you when I arrive in Reno," Phil grinned and Mavis
frowned as he started the engine and backed slowly from the drive.
Oh, you'll fuck her later, huh?  She waved goodbye until Phil
turned the corner and was out of sight.  Without even turning,
Mavis was aware of Terry close behind her, could smell the sweet
perfume of hot pussy.  The very proximity of a vibrant, warm
female primed for a sex domain whatever form---started Mavis'
sexual organs churning ... the puffy lips of her pussy grew hot
and her coital channel seethed with lustful anticipation.  "Let's
go in the house," Mavis said.
     "And have a drink and take off our clothes and play fun
games," Terry tittered, falling in beside Mavis.  As they entered
the back door, Terry taunted, "I'll bet you haven't had a chance
to get a sweet screw from your husband since he got home from
Wyoming, have you?  But, you've been getting some stiff dick,
haven't you?" Terry teased.
     Mavis ignored the all-too-true analysis.  As she mixed drinks
in the kitchen, tried to keep her eyes from the great expanse of
bare skin revealed by Terry's scanty attire, she asked, "Whose car
are you driving?  That isn't yours and Mickey's."
     "Maybe not, maybe so," Terry pouted.  "It's a T-Bird.  I like
it and I'll have it."
     Mavis had never made many Singapore Slings, and the third
pair of them didn't go any faster.  She merely frowned as Terry
said, "I got something in the car," and she ran through the house,
her woman aroma wafting on the air.  When her measurements proved
faulty, Mavis tilted the bottles of straight booze into the
glasses.
     She wasn't happy, but was, strangely, exultant about the
delicious sensation of her pussy fairly steaming with anticipation
of having sex-fun with Terry Lewis!
     "Did you like the randying you got from Del Emerson, Mavis?"
Terry winked when she returned.  "And how about Mr. Carr?  And Mr.
Quentin?  And, how many others, Mavis?"
     Mavis didn't like the subtle, prying inquiry about---what
Mavis interpreted---her life as a whore.  "Did you like your trick
with the boxer?" Mavis countered.  "How about your being jumped
and sex-banged by that dirty old Ben Glover?"
     "Massive cock!" Terry grinned, drinking deeply.  "Mean as
hell---the way he fucks a girl!"
     Mavis' pulse quickened, but she recoiled mentally.  She
didn't want Ben Glover's insidious prick in her body.  Yet,
provocatively in her mind was the thought ... does that lecherous
old man have a wart on the side of his long pussy---pole?  God!
Would she have to fuck him to find out?  To determine whether he
might have or might not have been the robber who had fucked her
during the night of the supermarket heist?
     She shuddered with grim dread.  Would she have to?  Have to
fuck him---take his sex joint into her canny?  She wouldn't ask
Terry if she remembered whether or not the lustful man had a
growth on his thing.  Terry, being as drunk as she had been,
probably couldn't remember anything except Ben Glover's rocking
the cock to her.
     Mavis felt her skin growing hot.  Sleek muscles tensed under
the silk dressing gown she wore as Terry's lascivious eyes prowled
over her.  "Mick took some boys from the summer recreation program
camping in the Wasatches and won't be back until tomorrow
afternoon," Terry said.  And Mavis was aware of the lithe young
girl's shallow, almost passionate breathing.
     And you want us to have a lesbian fling until then, Mavis
thought.  She wouldn't meet the flashing, sensual invitation in
Terry's eyes.  Maybe I should get Becky over and we can have a
threesome---but she's probably priming herself for another blast
from Willie's sex thunderstick,
     Why not Del Emerson?  Mavis frowned; maybe it would be best
to go along with Terry's game and get their sex thrills from each
other.  Eventually, Mavis' eyes were drawn to Terry's nervous
fingers that kept toying with the package wrapped in brown paper.
The sexy gal seemed obsessed with opening it.
     "What's in the package?" Mavis queried softly.
     "A toy that will beat the hell out of that gadget Miriam
has!"
     The sensual warmth that flooded through Mavis' body made her
even more keenly aware that she was absolutely naked under the
dressing gown.  Where there had been a faint dread and a wish that
Terry would leave, there was now a hot, almost lewd anticipation
taking its place.  And Terry's eyes were fastened to the loosening
vee of the gown that revealed the deep valley between her
feverish, pointing titties.
     Terry's faint, smirking smile told Mavis that her companion
was cognizant of the passion that was clutching her loins, that
passion juices were starting to steam in her undulating vagina.
The craving for sex was almost painful.  Mavis was tempted to
demand to see what was in the package.  She was already convinced,
after Terry's flat hint, that it was some kind of sex tool.  Well,
the way her pussy was crawling with need, she hoped it was a big
one.  Her deep well was like a starving mouth, eager to be crammed
full of sex fare.  She needed it!  She just hoped that Terry was
adept enough to girl-fuck her until she was satisfied.
     Trying to control the tremulous tone of her voice Mavis asked
slowly, "What's in the package, Terry?"
     Mavis wasn't sure whether the hot film of moisture on her
inner thighs, near her crotch, was from perspiration or was the
sweet passion-hone from her vulva.  God!  How her labia and
asshole itched!       "A double-dildo!" Terry exclaimed
triumphantly.
     Mavis frowned.  Why doesn't she unwrap it?  She watched Terry
stand, slowly remove her halter with the built-in bra cups.  Mavis
stared at the perfect cones of firm flesh.  The nipples,
surrounded by tight aureoles, were taut brown spikes tilting
slightly toward the ceiling.
     Her fingers itched to touch the smooth woman fruit untouched
by the sun.  They seemed frothy and confection-rich with little
smooth berries on top of all that sweet whipped cream.  Her mouth
watered to savor Terry's luscious breasts and to nibble those
dainty nubs.
     "Where do we romp, Mavis?" Terry asked, excitement building
in her voice.  "Take off your robe and let's find a place to make
girl-love!"
     Mavis watched Terry float to her feet, breasts hardly
quivering from the motion.  The puffy eagerness of Terry's pussy
lips was a pronounced prominence in her hot pants.  A proper name,
Mavis thought, for those rape-inviting shorts ... HOT pants!  And
Terry certainly has hot pants!
     Well, her own box wasn't exactly an igloo!  Mavis whirled,
letting the hem of her gown swirl to give Terry a quick look at
flashing, creamy thighs, and led the way through the house and
upstairs to her's and Phil's bedroom.  Mavis shrugged out of her
gown and tossed it atop a bureau of drawers.  When she turned,
Terry was skinning out of her hot pants.  Eyes missed eyes---they
were too busy exploring each other's bodies.  Desire fanned
through Mavis as she marveled at Terry's delectable nakedness.
And Terry's sex-glazed stare told Mavis hers was just as inviting.
     Mavis stood perfectly still as Terry tossed her package on
the bed and approached slowly, clutching her breast mounds near
the base, pointing the swollen nipples at Mavis.  Mavis' breathing
was shallow and hurried as she watched Terry rub first one nipple,
then the other against her own.  The gentle friction of Terry's
tittie-rubbing, plus the promise of tempestuous, illicit girl-sex
seemed to kindle an intense fire all through Mavis.  She hoped
Terry would suck her pussy---and she would eat her in return.
Slowly, Mavis reciprocated and grasped her own hot breasts,
pointing them "in" so that her nipples mated with Terry's hard,
burning points in electrifying thrills.
     They shuffled toward each other, crushing their tits
together.  As they twined their arms about each other's naked
bodies, Mavis felt the titillating tickle of Terry's profuse pubic
mat tickle her hairless Venus mound.  Mavis caressed Terry's lean,
sleek back and shuddered with pleasure as her love-companion
kneaded the firm, smooth buns of her fanny.
     Mavis loved the contact of flesh against flesh, the gentle
rasping of Terry's pussy hair.  Mavis hunched her rear end forward
to increase the pressure of the fleshy sex mounds that formed a
parapet to their cunnies.  Her hands found and cupped Terry's firm
seat-buns as she shivered, loving the way Terry worked her fingers
into the crack of her butt and probed for the tight, burning
crinkle of her asshole!  She almost wished that Terry would worm a
finger into her anus and finger-fuck her bowels ...
     AND THERE IT COMES!  Involuntarily, Mavis slid her feet
apart, pushed her rump back slightly, relaxed her buttocks to take
the demanding finger deep into her rectum.
     "Aaaaagggghhhh!" she sighed raggedly, capturing Terry's
partly open mouth with her own.  Terry responded by fucking her
pelvis against Mavis and stabbing a hot, moist tongue into Mavis'
mouth and tickled her palate.  "Aaaaaahhhhh," Mavis sighed,
wiggling her ass as Terry swizzled her finger around in her ass
channel.  Mavis wriggled harder, feeling pressure against her
stinging clit by Terry's sex mound.
     Trembling, they wrestled frantically in each other's arms for
several minutes, on the threshold of orgasm, but not quite able to
make it.  Their boobies were welded together; their pubic regions
were grinding; passion thrills danced in Mavis' loins; Terry's
finger stirred a deeper carnal, animal pleasure deep in Mavis'
butt hole.
     "Let's get on the bed," Terry moaned, "and we'll sit in each
other's saddles and girl-fuck!"
     Mavis didn't want to break off the tantalizing contact, Terry
had drawn her away out and orgasm was just a question of time, but
she let Terry back away.  "Get on the bed; on your back; put your
hands under your hips; brace them up high."  Mavis was aware of a
hot, gooey sweetness in her crotch.  Lithe and athletic, Mavis had
no trouble following directions.  She felt a little silly with her
legs straight up in the air, feet far apart, her hairless pussy
exposed to her partner's lascivious gaze.  She wished Terry would
hurry.  She needed fucking!  Through half-closed eyes, she watched
Terry step up on the bed.
     "Brace yourself firmly," Terry panted with passion,
positioning her right foot against Mavis' upturned fanny and
stepping through with her left foot, placing it near the base of
Mavis' left breast, between arm and ribs.
     Mavis spread her legs wider, expanding the vee of her taut
thighs.  She tilted her head so she could watch Terry part the
full, thick petals of her pussy.  "That feeeels gooooood!" Mavis
moaned as Terry massaged the clit with the tip of a finger and
dived a finger deep into her hot, throbbing swat.  "Ooooohhh!" she
whimpered, her ass bumping and grinding to accentuate the
pressure, wanting more and more in her cunt.
"Heeeeaaaavvveeennnnly! " Mavis groaned.  She rotated her rump,
up-fucking her snatch against Terry's educated hand.
     She watched Terry's other hand at work in her own crotch as
the girl pressed her labia far apart so that the slick inner
surface was fully exposed.  And Terry was turning her own pussy
blossom inside out.
     Terry squatted slowly, her smooth, firm, rounded buttocks
caressed Mavis' inner right thigh; her pussy mesh, curly and rich,
raked her left.  Mavis thought she could feel the intense heat of
Terry's voracious young snatch as it sank closer and closer.
     Then there was faint contact ... then full pressure ... and
Mavis felt their searing pussies were welded together in ecstatic,
erotic bond.
     "Two women can screw pretty good," Terry panted.
     "What a delicious sensation," Mavis murmured as Terry swabbed
her bottom around, rubbing the hot slickness of their cunnies
together.  Mavis thought she could feel Terry's hard clit needling
against her own and up-bucked her ass and came quickly, sharply,
almost painfully.
     "Ooooohh, fuck me!" Mavis whined, reveling in having her
snatch glued to another woman's in wanton female intercourse. She
looked up at Terry's triumphant face, eyes half-closed, relishing
her own orgasm.  "I never realized two women could latch their
pussies together and fuck sooooo goooooood!" Mavis choked with
pleasure.  Terry had both of her arms around Mavis' stiff left leg
for support and was girl-fucking like mad.  The breath of passion
whinnied through her narrowed nostrils as she fucked around and
around rubbing her steaming, burning snatch against Mavis'
     "Oooooohh, ffffuuuuccckkk---fuck, FUCK!" Terry grunted,
shaking her ass around and around, faster and faster.  "I'm ready
again!" Terry screamed, fucking faster.  "Let's cum together!" and
she churned her crotch faster and harder against Mavis' scorching
sex orifice.
     "I'm ccccuuuummmmiiinnnggg!" Mavis squalled, up-fucking her
ass, suddenly shattered by sensual relief losing muscle control.
She went limp, burning with pleasure as orgasm danced along every
nerve.  She was vaguely aware that Terry had collapsed toward the
foot of the bed, their pussies still melted together.
     Shortly, she was aware of the rustle of paper and knew that
Terry must be unwrapping her double-dildo.  It was such a heavenly
pleasure, having her parted pussy lips kissed by another woman's
cunt mouth.  Mavis didn't protest as Terry crawled from contact.
Her strength was returning after being buffeted by the erotic
session of female coitus with the tempestuous Terry.  She righted
herself and crawled to see what Terry was doing.
     She stifled a gasp as Terry withdrew the instrument from its
wrappings.  The color was that of a male, Caucasian.  "Merciful
gawd!" Mavis breathed, staring, wide-eyed.  It was as if two well-
hung men, with hard-ons, had run into a guillotine.  And the full
genitals of both had been united at the base.  Two sets of hairy
balls growing out of each other.  And long phalluses pointing in
opposite directions.  Mavis noted, admiringly, that each shaft was
at least nine inches long: the heads were gorgeous, enormous bulbs
---and the thickness of the spears would make a heifer cough!
     "Can we fuck each other with that?" Mavis inhaled slowly,
gulping.
     Terry giggled.  "I think---hope---so.  If we can, won't it be
a marvelous fuck?"
     "How do we do it?" Mavis sighed, her pussy again spasming
with eagerness.  After all, she had just had a clitoral cum and
needed a deep vaginal penetration to really set her off and
satisfy her craving for prick.
     They flopped over, lying side by side, face down with their
knees drawn up under their heaving, naked tummies.  Mavis watched
Terry play with the artificial dong, take one knob into her mouth
as if giving a man a blow-job.  Mavis touched one set of the hairy
balls and was amazed at how realistic they felt.
     For a minute, they peered into each other's eyes.  Terry
stopped sucking the cock and they kissed quickly, held the
contact, tongues swizzling in each other's mouths.
     "I think I know," Terry said, slipping away.  "You stay where
you are."
     "I'm not going anywhere," Mavis giggled.  "Not when there is
the prospect of having my pussy fucked.  And I want to try to take
all of that wonderful prong in my snatch!"
     "Be patient, passionate love," Terry chortled, voice musical
and happy behind her.  "What a beautiful thing you are from
behind.  I just feel like licking your butt hole and tonguing your
gorgeous pussy!"
     "Don't be bashful," Mavis laughed, tossing her butt in little
tantalizing circles, really wanting Terry to eat her pussy and
asshole.
     "Maybe later," Terry chirped.  "I'll give you your half
first, then take mine.  We'll go at it rear-to-rear."  Mavis
quivered delicious pleasure as she felt one of Terry's hands on
her upraised buttocks.  "Here it comes, love," Terry murmured.
Mavis braced herself as she felt the object swabbed in her wide
rut.  "That's the hole," Mavis sighed as Terry pressed the big
knob against the vaginal entry.
     "Betcha!" Terry agreed, cramming about two inches of it into
Mavis' sultry snatch.
     "Aaaaahhhh!" Mavis purred, wincing slightly as the massive
pole slid deeper and deeper into her feverish body.
     "Here it comes, baby," Terry said, "this should fill your
snatch absolutely to the brim with make-believe cock!"
     "Ggggooooodddd!" Mavis groaned.
     "You have a cuntful!" Terry gloated and Mavis rotated her ass
with pleasure as Terry fucked in and out of her a few times.
"Hold your scrumptious snatch and butt still while I fill my
greedy cunt with my half.  This should be tops if there ain't no
man
around!"
     Bracing herself on the side of her head, Mavis watched Terry
shuffle around.  She worked a hand under her belly and grasped a
set of balls, holding the tool steady until Terry was ready.  She
felt the sweet brush of buttocks against her own.  She felt the
tool jockeyed about slightly and Terry groaned, "Damn!  It's a big
son of a bitch!  I'm gonna take it all if it stretches my snatch
all out of shape!  Ah!  In it goes!  What a nice cock-feeling in
my canny!"
     As Terry continued working the huge shaft into her own body,
Mavis could feel the fat pole jostling in her own swat, sending
ripples of pleasure jerking through her body.  Once Terry jumped
and Mavis almost growled at her not to pull the tool out of her.
     "When I finally get it all the way in me," Terry panted,
still laboring to sock the massive dong into her snatch, "we'll
hunch back and forth toward each other---we'll back-fuck and
really ball the jack."
     "I don't know whom you're talking about," Mavis panted, "but
I wish this jack were here and we'd really fuck his balls off!"
     Instinctively, each clutched a set of artificial genitals and
began manipulating their cunts around the dual post.  It let them
control the pace and depth of penetration; they liked it in deep,
their ass cheeks rubbing.  Terry's pace was frantic; Mavis' was
more measured as she fucked her cunt on the thing in long, slow
strokes.  When they climaxed, they released the balls, tangled
their fingers in their hair or beat the mattress with their fists
and fucked their asses against each other as they exploded with
sex pleasure deep in their loins.
     "Wwwwwhhhhaaaatttt fffuuuucccckkkkin'!" Terry breathed
raggedly as she and Mavis slowly emerged for their fifth cums.
     Mavis wanted to get one more jolting climax.  The big dong
was sliding smoothly and easily into her greased, boiling snatch
up to the simulated balls.  "One more!" she howled, "and you can
eat met!  We'll eat each other!"
     But the telephone rang and they were interrupted for a few
hours.  Their frantic, passionate girl-fucking was over for a
while.
     Willie Quentin demanded that Mavis come down to the store.
He emphasized that it was urgent!



                            Chapter 14

     Mavis freshened her body and dressed while Terry lay sprawled
in the middle of the bed, the huge dong protruding from her
snatch, one end still buried in her body.
     "Mick isn't going to like me having that T-Bird," Terry
frowned, "but I'm going to keep it, anyway!"
     Mavis watched the little sex-pot slowly fucking the dildo in
and out of her snatch.
     "I should go down to the store with you and get a fast fuck
from Willie," Terry panted.
     "I don't think he'll fuck anyone for a few days," Mavis
replied, remembering how Willie's dong had been taped up just a
few days before.  And Becky would get his prick' if anyone did.
     "What's it all about?" Terry asked shakily, in the throes of
a half-orgasm, slamming the big, artificial male-bone deeply into
her swat.
     Mavis frowned as she stared at Terry, feet kicking in the
air, thighs flung wide as she masturbated herself with the dildo.
For a second, Mavis wished she had the other half of the dong
scrunched into her own pussy again.
     "Probably something about the robbery," Mavis
muttered.  "There's booze in the kitchen and the den; help
yourself.  I'll be back as soon as I can get back."

                           *    *    *

     At the store, Willie stopped her from taking the elevator to
his office.  "The investigator---Ben Glover---wants to interview
you about the robbery.  He's somewhere in the storeroom."
     Mavis' skin felt cold and scaly as that of a fish or a snake.
She didn't want anything to do with Ben Glover---especially not in
the darkened stockroom!  But she watched Willie take the elevator
to his office and she entered through the swinging doors.
     A match flared in the gloom, about ten feet away, and Mavis
saw Ben Glover's hawkish face reflected in the flickering flame.
He exhaled smoke and shook out the match.  "Come over here, Mrs.
Moran---Mavis---baby---and tell me what you know about the
robbery."
     Her guts twinged and she sensed her vaginal passage turning
cold and dry.  He was a fucking beast!  Hesitantly, almost
mesmerized, she approached, stopping within a couple of feet of
where he lounged on a crate of fresh lettuce.
     Somehow she knew---he---Ben Glover---was going to give it to
her.  He was going to fuck her.  And her guts boiled and her whole
sex tract felt as if it were being seared by fire.  HE WAS GOING
TO FUCK HER!
     "Baby," Glover said' easing forward on the crate and taking a
pocket flashlight from his coat, "I think you know more about this
robbery than you have told the cops."
     "No no, no, no!" she muttered, recoiling mentally, but not
retreating from the tiny penlight that he kept on her face, moving
it from one eye to the other.
     The small light almost blinded her: she couldn't see his
face.  But she felt his hand, rather, his finger and thumb as he
tweaked one of her nipples.  She wished she had worn a coarse,
tight bra---instead of the filmy, lacy harness and matching bikini
panties.  It, probably, wouldn't have made any difference.  Ben
Glover was going to screw her with his long, lascivious prick!
     Glover kept her right nipple in pinched captivity.  The light
left her face and she was in total darkness.  The penlight was
stabbed into her left breast and Glover twisted it against the
tumescent point that seemed to burn under the pressure.
     She shivered as he traced the light down over her ribs'
across her stomach to poke at her navel.  "Aaaaaaahhhh," she
moaned, tormented and frightened.
     The pressure of the small flashlight was increased on her
belly button, starting nerves tingling deep in her rectum.  Mavis
stifled a gasp.  God!  It sparked wanton twitches all through her
loins, into her inner thighs---all the way down into her toes.
     He was going to fuck her!
     And she sensed she wanted him to fuck her!
     If he lucked her, she wound know together he had a wart on
his prick---if he were one of the robbers!  The one who had raped
her!
     She couldn't see.  The light was dug into her belly.  Yet her
senses were alive.  Glover's breath was on her face.  She could
smell him.  His odor wasn't rancid, but was musky and virile.  Her
tummy crawled; she could almost feel his hard cock against her
soft flesh!
     She would not flick him back!
     "Phil have a hand in it---baby?"
     "Noooooo!"
     "Come on, sweet cunt!  Tell me what you know!"
     His hand left her breast and mauled her right buttock,
tugging her body toward him.  A finger dug at her crotch---and she
heard the hint of a skid of a zipper.
     "N00000000000!" she gasped.
     The light left her navel---and a hand grabbed her by the
butt, her skin crawling under his hand.  "He was involved!  Tell
me what you know!"
     "Noooottttthhhhiinnggggggg!" Mavis thought her voice fairly
rang with denial in the dark storeroom.
     "Show me and tell me what you did at THE time!" Glover
demanded.
     Mavis was glad to get out of his grasp---yet she knew she was
going to get his sex trunk in her!  She almost giggled with relief
that he was no longer touching her.  Her relief was short---a hand
shucked up under her short dress and long fingers were cuddling
the full, long, curvy loaves of her ass as she preceded him.  And
fingernails were finding the upper waist hem of her skivvies.  He
was going to strip off her panties and fuck her!
     He hooked a nail and her panties were slipping off the Saucy
flirt of her upper buttocks.  "Nnnnnoooo!" she protested as Glover
pushed her into the deeper shadows of the stockroom.
     "And you let the bandits in, huh?" Glover snorted.
     THERE WAS THE SOUND OF A ZIPPER
SKIIIlDDDDNNNNIING!
     And Mavis could smell---more strongly than ever---the odor of
prick!  It was so strong it almost panted back at her!  It was
only a question of---not if---but when he would diddle her!
     She was about to get a whole belly full of prick!
     Her panties slid down around her ankles and her legs quaked.
Glover heisted her skirt up over her back and dug a finger,
doodled it around in the crack, and nudged the tense anal pucker.
     Mavis wished her cunny would stop hungering for hard, long
male meat!
     "Phil had nothing to do with it!" she yelled as Glover pushed
her over stacked cartons of vegetable juice, big cans.
     One of his thumbs hooked her in the asshole and stabbed into
her throbbing rectum.  His left hand gripped her left thigh and
her legs skidded apart; she hunched her rump back at him as she
felt the cozy knob of his cock rake the smooth crown of her butt.
     She was about to get him in her!
     He was about to fuck her!
     Mavis shook her head, desperate, helpless.  She was about to
get this terrible man's dirty old cock!  She wanted to run.  But
she was going to take him on.  Her entire rear was exposed to his
attack---and his hands had captured her heaving flanks---and the
thick, dripping knob of his jobber was jabbed flush against the
entry to her bowels!
     Not in the asshole!
     She sobered slightly as Glover sagged his knees for a more
direct aim and planted the knob of his cock in her bloated vulva.
Damn you! Mavis swore silently at her pussy, don't look forward to
getting his prick inside ME!
     Mavis sensed his tensing, aiming his dong.
     Here IT comes, she thought---braced herself for his forward
onslaught.  She moved her weight to the left when he missed and
she knuckled his cockhead into her vulva.
     "Dddddaaaammmmnnnn!" she complained as Glover buried his bone
deep in her viscous swat, slamming the hard head against the
curvature of the cervix and ramming to the very depths, stretching
her coital cave.
     "Daaammmnn you!" she shrieked, rearing her ass backward,
trying to out-fuck his massive prick.
     But he was pumping the meat into her snatch, rasping the lips
of her outer pussy---and there was no wart!
     There was no wart on his dong!  He was not the robber-rapist!
     Tears flooded into Mavis' eyes.  He was no help.  She thrust
her ass back to meet his forward hunch, fucking her like a mongrel
dog.
     "It's all a waste!" she wept as she maneuvered to get all of
her assailant's prick.  The knob banged against the bottom of her
sex canal and she almost swooned from an overwhelming orgasm.
     Mavis swung her ass wildly, slamming her taut rums loaves
against his pelvic region as he poured the cock to her.  She
tightened her sphincters in revenge that she didn't have the right
one; she wouldn't have minded taking the prick of the robber-
rapist!
     She rotated her fanny, shoved her exposed rear back again---
unmindful of his long finger in her ass-hole.  She lifted on
tiptoes, trying to break off his prick in her pussy.
     "Aaaaagggghhhh!" she wailed, trying to fuck him into nothing.
But he was too much man.  He started squirting his jizz into her;
grabbed her by the ass cheeks, prying them apart; hauled his prick
out of her pussy and shoved it roughly into her roiling bowels
where he finished unloading his semen.
     She was fearful he was going to make her suck him clean, but
he left her there, skirt up over her butt, legs spread far apart
for fucking, weeping in frustration, cunt and rectum well-hosed
with cock Juice ...
     After several minutes, after letting his male sap drizzle to
the floor, Mavis adjusted her clothes and fled.  All she could
say, starting the old car, was that he wasn't the one; he didn't
have a wart on the side of his prick.  The fucking had been for
nothing.
     Mavis was glad, for the first time, she had no cunny carpet.
His jizz didn't cling and clot in pussy hair.  "Ha-ha-ha-ha!" she
laughed, almost hysterically.
     She wept all the way home.  She was glad that Terry was in
the kitchen, drinking vodka over ice.  "Ben Glover thinks Phil is
involved in the robbery!" Mavis sobbed, taking the glass of ice
and vodka that Terry pushed toward her as she slumped into the
breakfast nook.
     "He screwed you!" Terry shouted---and Mavis detected a tone
of frenetic anger.  "That bastard!  Fucking you!  Trying to push
that robbery onto you and Phil!"
     "Come home, Phil!"
     A little later, she let Terry undress her, lead her upstairs
and bathe her in soothing hot water.  Then they returned to the
kitchen and drank in half-brooding silence.  The booze relaxed
Mavis and she grew drowsy.  Vaguely, sometime during the evening,
Mavis was aware of Terry coasting her back upstairs and putting
her to bed.  Before drifting into deep sleep, she snuggled against
the kittenish softness and warmth of Terry, thinking how nice it
was to have someone in bed with her.
     Sleep endured until nearly two o'clock the next afternoon,
until it was dispelled by the insistent front door chimes.
Clumsily, Mavis crawled from bed and struggled into a dressing
gown.  She left Terry asleep in the bed as she hurried downstairs
to answer the front-door.
     She stared stupidly at Mickey Lewis whose mouth was pursed in
a grim line.  "Is Terry here?" he asked curtly.  "I see the car
she was driving is out front."
     Mavis nodded, glancing at the sleek, powerful Thunderbird.
It was a pretty thing she admired.  Even the colors of the Utah
license plates harmonized with the color of the car; so often they
clash.
     "She stayed all night with me," Mavis yawned.  "Come in,
Mickey; I'll make some coffee and call her. God!  We must have
slept fourteen hours!"
     Mavis left Mickey sitting impatiently in the living room as
she went to start coffee percolating.  She was aware of his eyes
on her body as she strode back through the living room, flimsy
gown fluttering about her thighs as she went to waken Terry.
     She found Mick's wife half-awake, stretching and yawning.
"Mickey is here," Mavis told the naked doll.
     "Oh?  Is he back already?  How did he know where I am?"
     "He said he saw the car you're driving," Mavis replied,
heading back downstairs.
     "She's dressing," Mavis told Mick whose piercing gaze stabbed
at the loose vee of the gown and traveled downward, lingering for
a moment on the pubic region, then dropping to her knees and
generous length of tapering thighs.  "The coffee should be done,"
she murmured, going to the kitchen and returning with pot, cups
and saucers, cream and sugar.
     As she and Mick sipped coffee, waiting for Terry to join
them, Mavis wished he wouldn't stare at her that way!  His intense
gaze almost made her flesh crawl.  And he made no effort to
conceal his interest in peeling off her gown, putting his hands on
her and having his way with her.
     She would have liked to recross her legs, but she didn't want
to give Mick that momentary view up her inner thighs toward the
sensuous place he coveted.  Damn!  His eyes gave her chills and
hot flushes that tingled deep in her womb and danced outward
through her loins.
     When Terry joined them, Mickey demanded, "What are you doing
with that car?"  His tone was flat, cold with anger.
     "I want it and I'm going to have it," his wife said, pouring
herself a cup of coffee.
     A brittle silence lasted several minutes and Mavis thought
she could almost see Mickey's thought processes in action.  Terry
was defiant, yet there was an air of flightiness in her demeanor.
Mavis had no doubt that Mickey would have his way.  He was
studying his next move; in a moment, she thought, he will lay down
the law to his young wife.
     "Tomorrow, you'll take that car back to Ely, Nevada; arrange
to store it for your brother; take the bus back here," Mickey said
flatly.
     Mavis frowned slightly: why had Mickey over-stressed certain
words? back to Nevada ... your brother ...  It was almost like
some kind of code that husbands and wives often use; it tells the
outsider nothing, but has very clear meaning for the married
couple.
     "Let's have some brandy in our coffee," Terry said, glancing
at Mavis questioningly.  "I want the car, Mick," Terry almost
begged as Mavis went to get a bottle of brandy.
     "You---will---take---it---back---to---Nevada tomorrow," he
snapped.
     Something clicked in Mavis' mind as she returned.  Back to
Nevada?  Why ... it has Utah plates!  Whatever was Mickey talking
about?
     "I'll take it back," Terry acquiesced numbly.  And Mavis
noted she had put the same stress on the word.  "Tomorrow, as you
say."
     "Good!" Mickey grinned.  Now that the issue about the car was
settled, the grimness left his face, replaced with a bright, easy
smile and laughing eyes.
     Mavis was uncomfortably aware that Mick's eyes again were
undressing her.  And his stare wasn't lost on Terry.  What he had
in mind, if given the opportunity, was clearly spelled out by the
huge lump in the crotch of his trousers.  He was a dirty dog with
a big bone and he wanted to bury it deep in Mavis' flower bed!
     He asked to use the telephone and made no effort to shield
the massive tenting of his swollen pecker from hers and Terry's
eyes.  Returning, he flopped onto the sofa, stretching his long
legs out before him and said, "My party was out for a little
while; I gave your number, Mavis.  Is that all right, if he calls
back here?"
     She nodded numbly.
     Mickey grinned and waved his cup toward his wife "I think you
better take that car home and put it in the garage---where it will
be safe---until you leave for Ely tomorrow It worries me, being
responsible for other people's property."
     Nooooo!  Mavis recoiled mentally.  She could sense an
insidious plot developing.  And the narrowing of Terry's eyes told
her it wasn't just imagination, either.  It was quite plain that
Mick had devised a way to be left alone with her!  He wanted to
fuck her---and he would have his wife out of the way.  Terry would
be at home and Mickey would be here, waiting for a phone call that
would never come!  He could take all of the time he needed to
seduce her.  This tall young man was going to fuck her and Mavis
felt helpless to prevent it!
     Mavis wished she hadn't drunk the brandy, felt she needed a
clear head to cope with whatever lay ahead of her.  Hell!  she
knew what lay ahead of her!  Mickey Lewis was going to lay her!
     She wanted to plead with Terry to stay, but she was gone
before the words would form.  And Mickey was sitting across the
room from her---and the male bulge in his pants was getting
huskier all the time.  He seemed to taunt her, gently scratching
the curved material over his balls with a fingernail.
     "You want it, don't you, Mavis?" Mickey asked suddenly, his
fingers idly stroking his penis and gonads through his clothes.
     "Whhhaaaatttt?" Mavis stammered.  The blunt, verbal approach
had always dismayed her.  She thought she much preferred straight
physical jousting---the way Hank and Ben had gotten to her.
     "You want some of this, don't you, Mavis?" Mick persisted,
goading his sex business to even greater dimensions with his left
hand.
     Mavis felt even more vulnerable than ever, wearing nothing
but the thin wrapper.  She was dully aware that she was so
disturbed she had been unmindful of her lone garment; it sagged
open dangerously, revealing the deep cleavage between her breasts.
And his gaze made her tits tingle!  The folds had fallen away
below the waist, exposing lengths of creamy thighs.  She glanced
down quickly and held her breath.  Mickey could see almost all the
way to her shaven crotch.  She was ripe for the taking!
     "Well, you want it and you're going to get it, baby!" Mickey
chuckled hoarsely.  "I'm going to fuck you good, Mavis!  We are
going to have a real hot, lively sex party.  I'm going to fuck
your sweet twat full of big meat and dump a whole load of sex
rocks in your quarry!"
     Mavis gasped silently.  "No, no, no, NO!" she blurted.
     "Yep!" Mickey laughed, rising and stripping to the waist and
taking off his shoes and socks.  "You want it from behind; me on
top; or you top-riding?  Me, I like to fuck in all positions!
Which way do you like to fuck best?"
     Mavis' vagina contracted and she fretted that she wouldn't be
able to take the monstrous cock that was so clearly outlined in
Mickey Lewis' pants.  It was huge!  Maybe she could absorb him all
right if she were receptive to having him plow his big dong into
her cunt.  But she felt all shrunken tight inside.
     "Let's fuck, baby!" Mickey declared, striding up to her,
taking her left arm and tugging her out of the chair.
     "Pppplllleeeeaaaasssseee!" Mavis begged.  But she didn't
resist him as he pulled away the only flimsy garment that covered
her nakedness.  There was no doubt about it; he was going to screw
her!
     "Nice body; fancy tits!" Mickey breathed, pinching one taut
nipple and raking his tongue across the other.  He sucked the hard
spire into his mouth and chewed roughly.  The sharp tingles seemed
to explode like needle jabs in her anus, her pussy and her navel.
     His right hand went around her, caressed the smooth small of
her back and fondled the tense buns of her fanny.  She wondered
how long he would toy with her, maul her, before he got down to
the business of flopping her down and fucking her.  It was almost
degrading and humiliating, standing there tolerating his lecherous
hands on her skin, his mouth sucking her nipple, fingers kneading
her flesh.
     Resigned to his sexual manipulation, she wished that he would
hurry, give it to her, fuck her until he was finished and get out!
A big hand was on her right flank, the fingers dived between her
crimped thighs, forcing them apart and caressing her hairless
mound.
     Mavis shuddered involuntarily as Mickey worked a finger into
her groove and rubbed the tender clitoris.  "Aaaaaashhhh!" she
sighed, unable to keep her feet from drifting apart to give him
free play in her crotch.  Nerves jumped and tingled in her inner
thighs.  "Eeeeeeeiiiii!" she screeched as Mickey stabbed a finger
into the snug orifice.  He laughed with satisfaction around the
nipple as he sucked with his wet mouth.  He was going to arouse
her in spite of her disgust toward him.  She knew he would have no
trouble laying her out and fucking her.  Her misery was multiplied
as she began to realize that he was going to make her want his
cock in her cunt!  Like a brazen animal in heat!  Hungry for his
prick!
     She told herself she, really, didn't want to be fucked by
Mickey Lewis!  But he was stirring up her passions and her body
was being tuned up for a tumultuous sessions of sexual carnage!
     "Let's get with it, Mavis-baby," Mickey breathed, his hands
all over her nude body.  "Let's fuck!"
     She seemed aflame with wanton desire.  She trembled weakly as
he stepped back from her.  "Where do you want me?" she asked
huskily, eyes half-closed.  "Do you want to fuck me on the floor?
On the sofa?  Or would you rather we screw upstairs on the bed?"
     He had sparked a fire in her and her vagina was seething like
a boiling cauldron.
     "Let's fuck on the floor," Mickey wheezed, undressing.  "Lie
down on the floor---let's screw there."
     Obediently, Mavis glided to the floor, knowing that his eyes
were on her bare rear end.  She stretched out prone on her back,
eyes half-closed.  "Do you want to fuck me topside or dog-
fashion?" she asked, holding her legs tightly together against her
pussy.
     She wanted it!
     "You can fuck me any way you want to," she whined softly.
She felt she could hardly wait for Mickey to push her thighs apart
and crawl on her.  She was aching---craving---for his meat spear
deep in her snatch.  "Give it to me," she whimpered.  "Fuck me
deep!"
     She got a brief glimpse of his mammoth instrument as he
parted her knees and settled between her thighs.  Instantly, her
legs fanned wide and her feet kicked high into the air.  Mickey
pushed her feet far back toward her head and she grabbed her toes.
Her sex saddle was flattened out for his body, rich hairless pussy
tilted upward to take his thick, hard meat.
     "Plunge the prick to me!" Mavis begged, her body twisting
with sexual gluttony, wanting him to hurry, poke his cock into her
throbbing swat.
     She quivered with anticipation as Mickey dipped the hot, fat
glans into her passion-slicked furrow.  She sighed with ecstasy as
the smooth head slid over her swollen clit.  "In me!" she pleaded.
"Fuck it into me!"
     Mavis wiggled her ass around, trying to get him to locate the
blunt tip against her ravenous opening.  "Aaaahhh, there!" she
wailed softly as Mickey planted the head of his prick against the
entry to her vagina.  "Oooooohhhh!" she sighed as he thrust
forward, popping the thick head of his pecker inside her body.
     "Fuck it in deep!" she pleaded, waggling her fanny up at him,
attempting to lever her body to capture his sex plunger.
"Leeeetttt's fuck," she wheedled.
     "Yeeeeeaaaahhhhh, baby!" Mickey murmured and his cock began
sliding slowly into her cunt, deeper and deeper, stretching her
channel.  "You got a hot pussy!"
     Mavis knew she had all of his cock in her because she could
feel the heavy weight of his balls against her flattened, upturned
rump and his hairy groin was ground against her smooth, hairless
pussy-pillow.  "Let it soak in my cooze a minute; then fuck me!"
     She loved the deep penetration, the way he kind of rotated
his ass, grinding his groin against her, prying his massive prick
around and around in her snatch as if he were trying to ream out
her sex cove.  She felt that the hot, juiced lips of her pussy
were vulcanized around the base of his pulsating shaft that he was
feeding into her in little short jabs.
     "Oooooohhhh ... God!" she gasped with erotic pleasure so
intense she thought she was about to explode.  "Come on, honey,
fuck it to me!  Give me all of your marvelous cock in big plunges!
I need fuckin', lots of fuckin' with your wonderful prick.  Shove
the meat to my cunt, Mickey-baby!"
     She held her breath as he slowly snaked his pecker out of
her.  "Here it comes, Mavis," Mickey grunted in her ear, a hand
mauling one of her ripe, tender tits.
     "Yes!  Yes!" she moaned.  "Ram the prick to me!  Make my
pussy smoke!"
     Then he gave it to her, in a long steady stroke, penetrating
her pussy to the full length of his sex bone.  His big coconuts
full of sex goodies plopped warmly against her gyrating bottom.
Mavis loved his cock buried deep in her body; loved the warm musky
odor of hard pecker blended with hot pussy.
     "Fuck me fast," she begged, squirreling her ass around,
making her twat gobble his thick cock-sausage.  He backed his
prick out of her cunt and slammed it deep.  Mavis reeled into a
delicious cum, loving the aroma, the faint, squish-squish of thick
cock plowing into her seething sex well.
     Her pussy was a boiling liquid fire as Mickey plundered her
body, driving his wonderful tusk deep into her sensitive, ravenous
orifice.  She knew he was about to cum; his plunges were faster
and erratic.  She could feel the pulsations in his shaft as her
sphincter muscles seemed to twine around his massive meat.
"Aaaaaaggggghhh!" he cried, slamming the prick to her and grinding
his belly against hers.  She was thrust into another violent
orgasm as Mickey began jizzing the daylights out of her.
"Ooooohhhhh, sooooo good!" she purred as he continued to flood her
snatch with hit thick love honey.  She loved the way he gave the
farthest wall of her cunt little pokes with the squirting head of
his prick.
     Suddenly, as her intense, erotic pleasure began to subside,
she felt something else.  It was a tingly scratching sensation.
Mavis sobered slightly---and she knew.  She relaxed, let her heels
rest on the small of his back.  She worked a hand between their
sweaty bodies so she could use it and her sphincters to milk all
of his sex juice into her cunt.  She squeezed his cock at the
hairy base.  She wanted to feel it as he withdrew.  She was
certain, but she wanted to verify it with her fingers.
     "That was a real good, hot fuck," Mavis kissed him on the
parted lips, felt his tongue in her mouth, his panting breath of
passion ebbing.  "A really dandy fuck."
     She would have liked for him to leave his cock buried in her
cunt, it felt so good.  But she wanted to have his big, slick meat
in her hand.  She would suck it, if she had to.  She held her
breath as he eased his tusk out of her body.
     Yes!  YES!  There it was!
     She spread her legs wide as he crawled backward so that his
face was between her thighs.  She smiled smugly as she lay there,
letting him tongue the cum out of her pussy.  She had found the
man.
     Mickey Lewis had a wart on the side of his pecker ...



                            Chapter 15

     After Mickey departed, pleased with his sexual conquest,
Mavis prowled impatiently through the house.  That smug, self-
satisfied expression would be erased from his face in a hurry, she
thought, after she told Phil that she had found the robber-rapist.
     Finally, about dark, she settled down in the living room,
sipping a tall scotch and water and watching television.  She
hadn't liked the brutal screwing he had given her during the
robbery, but she acknowledged that when there was no one else
around, there was no possible peril, Mickey Lewis could really
fuck a girl and give her a whole bagful of jollies.
     Well, Mickey had betrayed himself, having to have another
piece of tail.  The wart on his dingus had given him away.  She
had had her cock and cunny fun---and Mick was going to get what
was coming to him.  Mavis wished she could talk to Phil, but she
didn't know how she could reach him.  But, hadn't he said he would
call?  She frowned; he had said after he got squared away.  When
would that be?  Tomorrow?  She would just have to wait.  Who, she
mused, was involved in the robbery with Mickey?  She just couldn't
believe Hank or Willie---certainly not her husband, Phil---were in
cahoots with Mick.
     She had a hunch that Terry could shed a lot of light on the
crime that had Phil under such deep suspicion.  She was almost
tempted to call the little sexpot and have her come over, but she
doubted that Mickey would allow it.
     She would just have to wait.
     Mavis was so anxious to have the whole affair settled, she
felt that every nerve in her body was sparking.  Intuitively, she
sensed that when it was all over, she no longer would be a sex
captive of hers and Phil's acquaintances.  That would be a good
feeling!  Maybe she would confess to her husband that she had been
a prostitute for a while; she didn't know how he would react, but
if that terrible secret were wiped out from her mind, she would
feel relief and a peaceful sensation of liberation.  Somehow, she
felt her husband would forgive her that sordid chapter in her
life.
     The telephone rang sharply and Mavis almost screamed.  It
took nearly a minute for her to compose herself and lift the
receiver.  "Heeeelllloooo?" she said, voice just above a whisper.
     "This is Phil, baby.  I'm at a place called Battle Mountain,
Nevada.  I'll stay the night and head home in the morning.  I got
to Winnemucca and the Nevada state police stopped me; my boss
asked their help in stopping me and telling me to telephone him.
The Nevada case has been solved and I'm turning around, coming
home.  I'll be there before dark tomorrow."
     Mavis was so intensely happy she couldn't reply for several
seconds.  Then she blurted, "Honey, I know who the robber-rapist
is!"
     "Gggrrrreeeeeaaaatttt!" Phil exclaimed.  "Tell me."
     Quickly, Mavis told him about her seduction by Mickey Lewis,
finding the wart on his dong.  "And I have a feeling that Terry
bought this fancy T-Bird with some of the robbery money."
     She told Phil about Mickey's ordering Terry to take the car
to Ely, Nevada, store it for her brother.  "It isn't a Nevada car,
honey," she said, "it has Utah license plates."
     "If I had the plate numbers," Phil said, "I would have the
ownership traced through the Utah vehicle bureau."
     "I don't have or know them, honey," Mavis frowned.  Then a
bold thought crackled into her mind.  "Phil, what if I could
persuade Terry to let me go with her to Ely?  You could meet us
there---give us a ride home so we wouldn't have to take the bus?
While we are in Nevada, maybe you could get all of the truth out
of her?"
     After a short pause, Phil replied, "Okay.  Sounds good.  How
will I find you in Ely?"
     "If I can get Terry to take me along---I don't think she'll
be against the idea---I'll be sure we register at a good motel.
You just start calling motels until you find your oversexed wife!"
     "Great, honey!  I'll see you tomorrow night?"
     After Phil hung up, Mavis looked up the Lewis' number and
dialed.  She didn't have to sell Terry on the plan; she jumped at
it.
     "I was just dreading that drive," Terry said happily.
     "And I feel the need to get away from Salt Lake and the house
for a while," Mavis bubbled.  "And it is so convenient for us---
with Phil coming home.  He said he won't mind a bit, the extra
miles he will have to drive to pick us up."

                           *    *    *

     They were on their way by six the next morning and arrived at
their Nevada destination in plenty of time to find a motel and
look around town, if they wished.  Mavis' smug satisfaction
received a big boost on the road.  While taking a turn at the
wheel, letting Terry nap, she found the registration on the sun
visor.  It was Terry's Carl
     As they cruised through town, Mavis spotted Phil's Buick
parked on a side street, around the corner from a hotel.
Apparently, he arrived before they had.  "Let's find a motel and
get settled," Terry said.  "You can grab a little rest while I
find a place to store my---the car.  What time do you expect
Phil?"
     Mavis shrugged.  "He'll call motels until he locates us."
     As soon as they were in a motel, Mavis stripped down to bra
and panties and collapsed on one of the two double beds.  Terry's
eyes turned sex-greedy as she stared at Mavis and winked.
     "If we thought your hubby would be getting in late," Terry
said, "we could prowl the town and pick us up a couple of well-
hung studs for some hot yum-yum fun!"
     Mavis smiled back.  "I don't think I want Phil to catch me---
or us---with a couple of stallions wearing our saddles."
     "Probably right," Terry nodded, taking three bottles of
liquor from one of her suitcases and setting them on a dresser.
     Mavis watched her find a couple of glasses, strip off the
cellophane and mix a couple of drinks of whiskey and water.
"Anyway," Terry said, "I brought my double-dong along and we can
have a romp with it."
     Mavis cramped her naked thighs together against the
pleasurable clutching the thought of the dildo aroused in her
loins.  "If you need a little sexing," Mavis said softly, "maybe
I'll let Phil give you a little fucking when he arrives.  He has a
very masterful prong and really knows how to make a girl's twatty
smoke."
     "Wheeeeee!" Terry breathed, whirling about the room.  "I
don't know how I'd react, getting diddled while the man's wife
watched."
     "Nothing like finding out," Mavis laughed as Terry pranced
out the door.  "Don't pick up a stud; come straight back!"
     "Right on!" Terry called as she slammed the door.
     Phil called about ten minutes after Terry left the motel.  "I
saw Terry drive by the hotel where I'm camped out," Phil said.
     "I saw your car when we drove through town," Mavis said.
"She wants a little fucking!" she laughed.
     "And I'm a stud-service candidate?" he said.
     "I figure you might be able to put the screws on her---I mean
screw the truth out of her," Mavis bantered.
     "Where will you be while I'm giving her the third degree and
jacking my handle into her canny?"
     "Right here, honey, witnessing every word, guiding your prick
and holding your wonderful balls up out of the hot sand."
     "Hot sand?  What the hell are you talking about?"
     "You don't want your balls getting scorched in hot desert
sand, do you?  I'll hold them for you while you fuck the robbery
truth out of little Terry."
     "If you insist on being present while I fuck the little
wench, just let my balls dangle," Phil said with mock solemnity.
"Get her a little tight, if you can."
     "I have a feeling that won't be any trouble," Mavis replied.
"I just hope she doesn't pick up some clown to give her a breeding
before you have a chance to get at her greedy snatch."
     "Well, I'm going to park on a side street and stake out your
motel from across and down the block.  I'll wander in about an
hour after she gets back."
     When Terry returned, it was obvious she had sampled the
liquid wares of at least one of Ely's clubs.  She was half-loaded,
happy---and her sex appetite was at an end-of-Lent intensity.
Mavis fairly grinned appreciatively as she watched the sexy doll
strip out of her clothes and parade about the room, showing off
her saucy breasts, curvy fanny, flat tummy and scratching the
coarse floss that adorned the inviting mound that crowned her
pussy.
     As they sipped whiskey and water, Terry wheedled, "Let's get
out the double-dong and fuck each other, Mavis?"
     "Not right now," Mavis demurred.  "Phil called from up the
road and will be here pretty soon."
     "How soon?" Terry pressed.  And Mavis studied the narrowing
of her nostrils, the fire in her eyes and the way she fanned her
silky thighs in and out, pressing them against her sex trove.
     "Oh pretty soon," Mavis evaded.  "Maybe you should put on
something."
     "Why?" Terry pouted.  "If you aren't going to back out and
let him screw me, why shouldn't I be all ready for a jump in the
sack?"
     "You don't want to seem too eager," Mavis countered.  "You
don't want to startle him."
     "Do you think---if he comes in and sees me all naked and
ready to fuck---I might scare him?" Terry giggled a little
tightly.
     Mavis shrugged.  "I don't know.  I just think it might be
better if you weren't naked, were wearing something---kind of
teasing him into the idea of punching your pussy ..."
     She nodded with approval as Terry gulped the remainder of her
drink and found a loose-fitting sunsuit in a suitcase.  "I think
it's a big waste of time, putting on clothes, when you know all
along you're going to get a fucking!"
     Mavis was surprised---maybe it was the liquor---but she
didn't experience any mental qualms as they talked about her
husband and his diddling Terry.  She, actually, was looking
forward to seeing Phil thud his prick into the dainty Terry's
quim.
     When Phil knocked and she let him in, Mavis frowned slightly.
No, a naked Terry wouldn't have scared him off.  His pants were
tented with a swollen cock and ready testes.  He came ready to
fuck.
     "Bring in your luggage, honey, and stay the night," Mavis
said.
     "Rrrrrrriiiiigggggghhthhhttttt!" Terry echoed.
     Phil grinned, then returned to his car to get a large
suitcase and a leather-cased object Mavis knew was a cassette tape
recorder.
     She fixed him a drink, turned and saw him staring at Terry's
scantily clad body---and Terry had already discovered that Phil
was sporting more than half a hard-on.
     "How was your trip?" the three of them said, almost In
unison.
     "No problem, sweat, okay," they chimed, then smiled
sheepishly, awkwardly.
     There was no doubt about Terry's eagerness to have thick,
hard cock chunked into her snatch.  Her eyes were glazed with the
animal message---Fuck me!  And Mavis could smell the sweet aroma
of her cunt.
     Calculatingly, Mavis took the initiative.  "Phil, don't cream
in your shorts!  Terry wants to be screwed, so why don't you two
strip and diddle?"
     You little bitch! Mavis frowned as Terry lurched to her feet
and shrugged out of her sunsuit.  Phil laughed and caressed his
swollen genitals through his pants with the bottom of his frosty
glass.
     "Where do you want to give it to me, Phil?  Where do you want
to fuck me?"
     Mavis frowned.  About the same question she had asked Mickey
after he had gotten her aroused.
     "Not in the butt hole," Phil laughed, "in the middle of a
bed."
     "That's what I meant!" Terry snapped, hurling herself onto a
bed, flopping onto her back and making a sex saddle of her thighs,
knees far up, feet dangling in the air.  Mavis stared at her
inviting, hairy crotch, pinkish inner labia glistening with
passion-moisture, opening to her vaginal fluttering.  Terry's
voice turned pleading, "You can cornhole me, if you want to; but
fuck me in the canny, too!"
     "Give it to her, Phil!  Fill her snatch with prick and fuck
her!" Mavis urged, desire fluttering through her as she
anticipated watching her husband ream the young woman's vag with
his massive tool.
     "Hurrrrry and fuuuuuucccccccccckkkk meeeeeee!" Terry wailed,
waggling her fingers and her fanny at him, begging plaintively.
     Mavis sat perfectly still as her husband stood, set his glass
aside and undressed slowly.  Terry gasped and Mavis felt slightly
jealous as Phil's massive tool was uncurled from his clothes and
his phallus stiffened and lengthened and thickened.  She would
like to have his dick in her---but he was going to fuck it into
Terry Lewis!
     And she was going to watch her husband fuck the little hot-
pussied hussy!
     Phil seemed to ignore her as he crossed the room and eased
onto the bed, worked his own naked body between Terry's inviting
thighs, shuffled forward, his cock waggling, toward the woman's
sex treasure.
     In a minute, Mavis fretted, yet was filled with anticipation,
her husband would be screwing another woman---right before her
eyes.  There was a lecherous expectancy.  She wanted to see Phil
drive his cock into Terry's cunt, stretch that marvelous vulva out
of shape and fuck his mammoth meat deep into her fragile body.
     Mavis leaned forward to see clearly as Phil hovered over
Terry, his lips and teeth finding a breast berry.  "Aaaaaaahhhh!"
Terry whimpered, reaching to find Phil's throbbing prick, trying
to pull it into her steamy swat.
     Phil closed the distance between their pubic regions until
the huge, glistening head of his cock soaked in her hot groove.
"You want it, Terry?  You want a good fuckin'?  Give me the
cassette, Mavis," he said all in one breath.
     Mavis lurched to her feet and placed the instrument near the
head of the bed, near her husband's right hand.  She stood for a
moment as he opened the case, pointed microphone toward Terry's
face.
     "Yeeeessss!  Fuck me, Phil!"
     He flipped the switch and Mavis watched the reels move.  Then
she returned to her seat.
     Phil moved over Terry's uptilted bottom, let her work the
huge pear-shaped head just inside her vag.     "Yes!  Fuck me!
     Phil let the head of his cock soak, just inside her wiggling
body.  "Tell me what you know about the robbery of the store that
Willie manages," Phil urged softly, giving Terry's twat little
jabs with just the knob of his dong.
     "Please fuck me, Phil?"
     "We know that Mick was one of the robbers.  Tell me about the
robbery."
     He plunged a couple of inches of hard prick into her snatch.
"Tell me!"
     "Ffffuuuucccckkkkmmmeeeeee!" Terry begged, trying to up-hunch
her ass to get his spear in her.
     Phil gave her a couple of fast cock-thrusts.  "Tell me."
     He rammed the remaining seven inches of his sex sausage into
her.
     "Fuck me!" Terry squalled as Phil withdrew his prick.  "It
was a clever setup.  Mick?  Yes!  He was one!  He raped Mavis!
The beating Willie got was part of the plan---he's involved---to
throw off suspicion."      Mavis watched her husband plow his
rock-hard cock back into Terry's ravenous snatch.  "Hank was
against it---but he went along with the guys."
     She was panting with passion and starving hunger for more of
Phil's sex pole.  He gave her several long, fast pistonings---she
farted loudly as he hit bottom with the thick point of his prick.
     "Ben Glover was the mastermind," Terry snorted as Phil fucked
the cock into her.  "He cased the whole job---with Willie's help
on timing of the guards and the van.  Hank helped steer the SLC
police away from suspecting them."
     Mavis watched her husband clutch Terry's heaving flanks with
both hands and pump the prick into her furiously.  "Where is all
of the money?"
     "They split it up.  It's hidden in everybody's houses!
Oooooahhhh!  Fuck me, Phil!"
     Terry had her toes in her hands, feet hauled back parallel
with her ears, legs flung wide, taking every last inch of Phil's
sex meat that he was drumming into her.
     Mavis knew when Terry was exploded into violent orgasm.  She
screamed like an Indian on the warpath.



Her lust was unbelievable as she tossed her bare, sweaty ass up at
Phil to meet his inward plunge.  She kept cumming as Phil buried
his dong deep and began shooting the jizz into her sex-soddened
cunt.
     Even after Phil extracted his long, thick prick from her
snatch and went to shower, Terry lay there in the middle of the
bed with her thighs spread wide, plundered pussy an almost obscene
invitation for more fucking.
     The solution of the crime had been almost too easy, Mavis
thought, once the vital key was found.  All it took was finding
the man with the wart on the side of his sex root.  She wondered
how long the case would be dragged out; she hoped that she and
Phil wouldn't be involved for a long period of time.
     She frowned at the naked Terry, at the thick lips of her
pussy that smiled leeringly, at Phil's thick, pearly sex cream
that oozed from her vag and trickled into the crack of her ass.
     Mavis shrugged and rose to mix her and Phil another drink.
"We'll go home in the morning," she murmured, studying herself in
the mirror above the dresser, satisfied with her trim figure that
was amply revealed by the scanty panties and bra.  "Then Phil can
get the ball rolling with the police and insurance company."
     She accepted her husband's ardent kiss when he merged naked
from the shower.  "Why don't you help Terry to a shower," he said,
"later, I have some more questions I want to put to her."
     "Why is a shower important?" Mavis pouted.
     She frowned at Philts wide grin.
     "I am to use my exclamation point on her again and I want a
nice, clean, perfumy sentence to punctuate."



                            Chapter 16

     During the night, in the still darkness of the motel, Mavis
heard her husband working on the passionate Terry.  The sodden
sound of big cock thudding into female flesh was loud in the room.
The earthy odor of male and female sex pervaded the close air.
     "Where have the men hidden the money, Terry?" she heard Phil
pant as he slammed his prick into the whimpering Terry's cunt.
     "In-in-in their homes.  I don't know---oh, fuck me!  God, you
fuck a girl good!"
     "Where in their houses, Terry?" Phil persisted and Mavis
thought she could actually hear the head of her husband's cock
banging against the bottom of Terry's sex well.  "Where did Mickey
hide his share of the money?"
     Squish-squish!  Squish-squish!
     Mavis could visualize Phil's long post sliding in and out of
Terry's elastic hole in prodigious strokes.
     Plop-plop; plop-plop.
     He was really banging her tail, Mavis thought.  That is the
sound of his balls slap-slapping against her upturned bottom end.
     "... in the attic of the garage ..." Terry groaned.  "Oh,
please!  Don't talk!  Just fuck me!  Give me lots and lots of your
wonderful prick!  I'm cumming!" she screamed suddenly.
     And the quickening complaint of the bed told Mavis that Phil
was plunging the prick to the small young woman.  "The others?"
Phil grunted as Terry sobbed with erotic fulfillment.
     Mavis drifted into sleep and was only vaguely aware of her
husband joining her in bed.  Then it was morning and Phil awakened
her with a long kiss and his fingers pinching a nipple.
     "Let's get on the road," Phil urged, slapping the women's
bare bottoms as he urged them from the beds.  Mavis noted that
Terry's eyes were red, there was an almost petulant pout on her
puffy lips.  Phil must have kept her awake and fucked her most of
the night, she thought as she and Terry dressed in silence.

                           *    *    *

     As they drove into Salt Lake City, Mavis wondered idly
whether little Becky had gotten her Wednesday screw from Willie
Quentin yet.
     Phil parked downtown and fished a nearly full bottle of
scotch from a suitcase.  Then he steered the two women into a club
that he and Mavis frequented on nights out.  While Terry was in
the women's lounge, he told Mavis, "You two drink setups while I'm
gone.  I want to see the county prosecutor, talk to the SLCPD
brass and get my boss down here.  I'll be back as soon as I can."
     He returned in a couple of hours, had a couple of drinks with
Mavis and Terry.  "Let's go home," he said and Mavis nodded.
Although he was silent, Mavis knew him well enough to sense he was
pleased and excited.
     As he parked the car in the garage, Phil said, "The
prosecutor obtained arrest and search warrants.  Let's get inside,
have a drink and wait for developments."
     As he sloshed scotch into three glasses, he winked at Mavis
and grinned.  "My boss---right on the spot---said that if this
pans out, I have the agency's managerial job in Seattle.  If we
want it."
     Mavis' heart jumped and drummed rapidly in her breast.  "That
would be wonderful, honey."  Then she frowned.  "Gad!  You mix a
strong drink."
     "Gotta be strong!" Phil exclaimed.  "This may be a banner day
for the Morans!"
     About thirty minutes later, he returned from answering the
telephone in the den, a smug expression on his face.  He sat on
the arm of Mavis' chair, leaned over and whispered, "They found
some of the loot at the Lewis home; Mick is in custody.  Damn!  I
would like to see the expression on Ben Glover's face when they
hit him!"
     Terry had been silent so long that when she did speak, Mavis
felt she had just walked into the house.  "Whatever is going to
happen?"
     Mavis glanced at her husband's satisfied smile.  "The damned
suspicion that has been aimed my way will be erased!  There's
going to be hell to pay in some houses around this neighborhood."
     A few minutes later, as Mavis was replenishing drinks, Miriam
Carr rushed through the back door.  "God!  Phil what's going on?
Hank and I were having a drink in the den and a whole flock of
cops from downtown showed up!  They have a search warrant and
they're ransacking the house!  They arrested Hank!"
     Mavis could tell from Miriam's furtive eyes that the raid
held no mystery.  "Want a drink, hon!" she mixed one anyway.
     "I guess I need one.  What the hell is going to happen?"
     Mavis glanced at her husband, loved the noncommittal way he
shrugged.
     "Hank has been on this fuckin' force for fourteen years!
Where do these lousy Salt Lake cops get off, arresting him?"
     The chimes were sounded from the back door and Phil hurried
to answer the beckon.
     When he returned, he motioned Mavis aside.  "Hank is on his
way downtown to jail; police and insurance investigators found
more than one-hundred thousand bucks in a floor trap under his and
Miriam's bar in the den.  They found about the same amount of
money at Willie's house, spread under bat insulation in the
ceiling!  They arrested Willie in his office at the store.  One of
the officers said he heard they hauled him, cock and all, right
out of the saddle of that little Becky Samon!"
     "They should have let him finish his ride!" Mavis smirked.
     The back door slammed and Connie Quentin dashed into the
living room.  "Willie's been arrested!"
     "We know," Mavis soothed, mixing her a drink without asking
if she wanted one; it was obvious she needed one.
     A short time later, as Mavis was studying Miriam and Terry
and Connie huddled together on a sofa, the front door chimes
echoed through the house.  Phil opened the door and admitted two
men from his agency and a plainclothes policeman, a detective
captain.
     "Glover is a riot," the captain said.  "We had no trouble
with him.  He was trying to wear out his part of the take by
counting it over and over.  He had more than a hundred thou spread
out on the kitchen table in neat little piles!"
     Mavis thought the captain seemed embarrassed, apologetic and
pleased.  He took a straight shot of scotch and offered Phil his
hand.  "Phil," he said huskily, "I never wanted to suspect you;
you're a damned good investigator.  I understand from these
fellows of your agency we're going to lose you to Seattle.  Are
you going to take it?"
     "Yes," Mavis responded as Phil started to nod slowly.
     "Well, good luck," the captain said, "I better get downtown.
I have a lot of paperwork to put in order.  God!  What a haul
today has been!" Mavis let him out and closed the door slowly,
silently.  She turned as Phil slowly unwound.  "Fellows," he said
softly, "what would you like?"
     "Jim here," one of the insurance agency representatives said,
"is transferring in from our Topeka, Kansas, office.  He's going
to need a house.  The boss thought maybe he could look over yours
and buy it---if you take the Seattle promotion."
     "Sure, sure," Phil said.
     And Mavis peered at him intently as her husband's eyes
brightened.
     "How long has it been since you saw your wife---what's your
name?"
     "Jim Svenson," he said.  "About two months."
     "Just a minute, before you look around.  I think it would be
a good idea if you took along a guide and chaperone.  Mavis and I
wouldn't want you to be lonely."
     Mavis scowled at her husband.  Whom did he have in mind to
escort a potential house buyer?  His implication was plain---and
she was the only one who really knew the house.
     "Okay, ladies," Phil commanded, pointing at Connie and Miriam
and Terry, "on your feet!  And get your clothes off!  Jim, the
bedrooms are at the top of the stairs---make yourself at home."
     When the three women hesitated, Phil crossed the room and
quickly undressed them.  They were too stunned to protest.  "Take
your pick---gentlemen---you too, Mark---we have the finest
hostesses in town."
     "You dirty, rotten bastard!" Connie exploded.  "We won't ..."
     "Oh, shut up, Con!" Miriam snarled.  "We may be going
someplace where we won't get any decent male twanging for a long
time; so let's have a good fuck and enjoy it!  The Swede looks
like he could take on



two girls---judging from the bulge in his pants!  Well, studs,
make a choice; the odd girl can go with the big galoot from
Topeka!"
     Mavis had no idea how they would pair off as the men trudged
up the stairs, the three women prancing ahead of them.  She didn't
care.
     Suddenly, she felt she no longer was a sex captive.  "Now,
Phil," she teased, "what happens now?"
     "Well, we get ten percent of the recovered loot as reward---
something over forty thousand dollars; we'll go to Seattle ..."
     "Come on!" she demanded.  "I mean right now!"
     "Well," he taunted her, exploring her boobies with one hand
and squeezing her butt with the other, "I think I'll strip my
wife, lay her out on the floor and have a good, choice piece of
ass for a change."
     "Ooooohhhhhh," Mavis sighed as he slid his long cock into her
tight cranny.  She liked being this kind of sex captive.
"Ooooohhhhhh!  Fuck me, darling ...



                             The End

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