It's All Wrong
(MM/FF, bi, rel, swap, anal)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.org

After all that had happened, Marla Moran mused. Willie Quentin still wanted her to continue working part-time at the supermarket he managed. After everything - Marla 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 Britney Samon had kept her appointment the previous Wednesday to let Willie screw her.

Marla 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 hardon 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 Britney, 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 Marla 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 Marla 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!

Marla 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 Terri Lewis. "Ugh!" she muttered. Marla 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, Marla decided to go to work early and get away from her thoughts and memories...

At 8:30p, Willie Quentin left his office and strode straight to the checkout stand where Marla 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."

Marla 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, Britney Samon's boyfriend, had gone at seven-thirty.

Earlier, Marla 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? Marla 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.

Marla 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. Marla 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.

Marla 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, Marla 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! Marla shrugged. She couldn't blame him. And she doubted that he even suspected that Britney 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.

Marla 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, Marla 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, Marla 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, Marla pressed a button. A buzzer indicated that Willie had disengaged the lock.

Marla 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.

Marla 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!" Marla 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. Marla, 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 ass.

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!" Marla 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.

Marla 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 hardon, baby!" the man snarled.

With disgust mingling with fright, Marla 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 prick 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 hardon and Marla prayed that her tormentor wouldn't make her give Willie a blowjob!

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 prick 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 slippery tape almost made Marla ill. It might come off his cock okay, but she would bet that it would yank out every hair on his scrotum!

Marla 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. Marla 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, Marla saw the other two men nod.

The man shoved a gloved finger into her upturned groove, then wormed it brutally into her pussy. "Go ahead and fuck her - and let's get out of here," one of the men finally broke his silence.

Marla 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 pussy that was shrunken by fear. This was one session of sexual intercourse Marla knew she wouldn't enjoy. While her assailant warped the prick to her cunt, 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

Marla raised her head as he withdrew his saber-cock and quickly taped up her crotch, running the binding from her ass to her belly button. Then back and forth, sealing his cum in her cunt.

Her first thought was that with his cum plugged in her cunt she would get PG, but she had taken The Pill regularly. All that could happen - the very worst - was having this foul rapist's cum 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. Marla 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 Marla 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 cunt.

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.

As Marla 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 Marla 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.

Marla 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 fresh male aroma! She could have him - if she wanted! But, wasn't he going with Britney 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. Marla 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.

Marla 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 slippery - hot with passion and her vulva and pussy seemed on fire!

Clumsily, Marla 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 pussy, 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, Marla 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 Terri 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 Britney 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 Britney was saving her cherry for her husband on their wedding night.

Marla 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! Marla 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.

Marla 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 clit and the aching opening to the pussy. 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 pussy 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 pussy. 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 cummmmmmiiiiiiiinnnnng! "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 cunt 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. Marla 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 Marla' eyes - and still she lay perfectly still, as if paralyzed.

"You poor darling," Miriam murmured, kneeling beside Marla and placing one cool hand between Marla' heaving, jutting breasts and another on Marla' feverish hands clutched in her sex saddle.

"What a delightful, exciting performance!" Miriam cooed, slowly pushing one of Marla' hands aside and fingering her own into the upper expanse of vulva that was slicked with female sex honey. Marla' tense ass bucked uncontrollably as Miriam teased the moist furrow and deftly pinched the fading clit back to full erection.

Marla 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.

Marla 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 Marla sit up and cradling her in one arm. "Drink the gin and tonic, honey."

Marla sipped gratefully, all but unmindful of her naked lower extremes. Right then she didn't care if Miriam gazed at her hairy tummy and cunt. 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," Marla 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," Marla 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!" Marla 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, Marla' 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?" Marla 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."

Marla 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.

Marla 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 cunt.

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, Marla 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!"

Marla sensed an ominous note in Miriam's tone.

Marla, 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, Marla 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!

Marla 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!" Marla 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.

Marla 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 prick 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. Marla 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 prick. 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.

Marla 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. Marla 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.

Marla 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 pussy, 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 cunt, 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 foreskin, she gained control of her breathing.

"Hello?"

"This is Phil," the voice sparkled over the wire.

"I - wish - you - were - here!" Marla blurted, clutching her fiery cunt. "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?"

Marla 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 Marla' lips, "She suggested we join her and Henry in mate-swapping!"

"The hell!" Phil whistled and Marla couldn't read in his voice whether he was for it or against it.

"She said," Marla 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.

Marla' 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, Marla 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!" Marla 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, Marla 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, Marla 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."

Marla 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, Marla?"

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," Marla 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!"

Marla 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 Marla 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! Marla 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, Marla 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."

Marla' 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."

Marla 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.

Marla' 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 Terri and Mickey Lewis, haven't you?" Miriam changed the topic of conversation. And Marla 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," Marla 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?"

Marla 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 Marla' mind tormented her - play what? A mental picture of Terri 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 Marla. 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. Marla 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 Marla 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 pussy, 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, pussy 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. Marla 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 Marla could see the rich inner surface of the two globes of firm, creamy flesh.

Miriam's eyes seemed slightly feverish as she returned Marla' glance. She is aware, Marla 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, Marla followed the slender woman who was about equal to her own five feet six.

As if by subconscious design, Marla 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 Marla 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 Marla wondered if the hazel-haired woman was as naked from the waist down as she was from the waist up.

Marla 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, Marla 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."

Marla 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, Marla?"

Marla 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?

Marla 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 Marla 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, Marla?" Miriam smiled, slowly drawing her thighs together and shielding her shorn groin from Marla' eyes.

"Huh? Oh? Yes!" Marla recovered her poise quickly.

She watched Miriam push it toward her with the tips of her fingers. "Open it!" Miriam invited. A present? Marla wondered. "For me, Miriam?"

"Perhaps," Miriam replied and Marla 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, Marla 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, Marla 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 ten inches - but it appeared to be at least half an inch thicker!

Again slamming the lid, Marla 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, Marla again opened the box to study the artificial penis and balls. 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 Marla and she giggled, "Where's the ass?" 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 prick. 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 Marla 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. Marla' 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.

Marla 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, Marla 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.

Marla' 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. Marla shuffled over slightly as Connie sat down beside her on the sofa. "Hi, Marla. God, I had a helluva hangover this morning!"

"Marla suggested you were late because you might have been playing with yourself!" Miriam chuckled lightly.

Marla 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," Marla said numbly. "I didn't mean anything, Connie."

"That doesn't bother me, hon!" Connie said, patting Marla' 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!"

Marla 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 'Marla has a headache,' "Marla is hard-up and has a needy, greedy vag."

"What do you expect, Miriam," Connie defended hugging Marla' 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, Marla 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.

Marla 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 prick 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 Marla isn't getting all the cock her canny needs!" Miriam giggled. And Marla 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, Marla?"

Marla 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, Marla was keenly aware of the twinging need deep in her womb. Somehow, intuitively, Marla 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. Marla couldn't help herself; her eyes were drawn to the huge, artificial hardon and simulated hairy testes. The slick head drew her attention and her cunt fluttered, creating an ache in the area of the cervix. It was so huge! She wasn't sure her pussy could accommodate such a mammoth shaft and swollen glans.

Connie's hand had stolen under the hem of Marla' 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.

Marla 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, Marla tried to press her thighs together over her hot cunt. But her knees crept apart, giving Connie's fingers freer access to her crotch. Marla 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 pussy. 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 clit, but Marla 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, Marla 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 Marla' blonde hair. "We must get it moistened; you'll do that with your mouth."

Oh, God! Marla 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 Marla 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 sweet and fresh - just like that man's hot, hard prick. The only difference was - he only had about four inches of prick!

Slowly, Miriam withdrew the thing and Marla was conscious of Miriam and Connie shifting positions. Then - her ass humped and bucked. Miriam was working the big rod into her cunt. Oh, good, good! It was being drilled into her feverish cant, deep, deep - deeper. A finger was rubbing and rasping her extended clit and Marla knew she was going to have a booming cum before Miriam succeeded in ramming it into the balls.

"I'm going to do it!" Marla croaked, cheeks of her ass tensing and bouncing for more of the gimmick in her cunt. "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 pussy and Marla felt she was about to faint from the erotic, heavenly impulses that stabbed all through her belly. Even her ass 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 cunt 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 Marla' cunt! God! Her cunt smells aromatic and glorious. And I'm going to tongue her pussy good!"

Marla 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 pussy 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 "Marla and Phil would join them." Mate-swapping!

And Miriam had said it still wasn't settled - she wasn't sure Phil would cooperate "but Marla 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? Marla 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 Terri Lewis? Was Terri promiscuous - a swinger - or not? Marla couldn't even guess.

Even after showering, Marla' 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 Marla 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!

Marla 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, Marla fixed and ate a light breakfast. It was still some time before the bridge session with Miriam, Connie and Terri 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 Marla; too early. Phil?

"Hello?" Marla 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, Marla," the faraway voice sounded impersonal, slightly severe.

"Golly!" Marla 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 Terri how to play bridge."

There was a brief silence and Marla 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, Marla - 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," Marla 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. Marla 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. Marla 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?" Marla 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, Marla."

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?" Marla demanded, fright worming into her mind.

"It appears, Marla," Willie began slowly, "that there is a shortage in store funds. It appears, Marla, 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," Marla 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, Marla," 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!" Marla 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!" Marla 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!

Marla' 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, Marla!" 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!

Marla 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!

Marla' 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, Marla, 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, Marla?" 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."

Marla 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!" Marla pleaded.

Marla 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, Marla - 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, Marla," 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."

Marla 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?" Marla almost screamed at him.

"Let's fuck!" he said bluntly.

Marla 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!

Marla 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 Britney 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, Marla! 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," Marla snapped, rising to her feet. Her insides felt cold and she wondered if her unwilling pussy 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 load 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. Marla 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 pussy 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 cock.

Hands behind her back, up between the shoulder blades, Marla 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 eleven inches and it was larger around than a beer can! 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 prick! "Oh, Phil!" she moaned, wishing, desperately, it was her husband who was going to give it to her, pump her cunt 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 cunt full of semen - and her debt to him would be paid. With the fingers of both hands, Marla 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. Marla 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 prick 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 pussy. There was a momentary grating as the head of his cock grazed the hardness at the cervix and plunged on past... deeper and deeper. Marla 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 pussy 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 cunt.

"I'm going crazy!" Marla gulped. "Give me cock! Pump the prick to me!"

Marla 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 Marla gulped, sensing she could almost taste it, it was so deep. Her guts growled. Her ass itched. Her ass was on fire.

But that was because he had worked a massive thumb into her butt hole. "Aaaaaahhhhh!" she whimpered, squirreling her rump around, gyrating on his prick 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 ass.

"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. Marla felt it expanding, twitching, pulsating. She knew he was about to cum and wanted his cum squirting her sex cove full of his thick cream. "Give it to me, Willllllilliiiee!" she howled, locking her ankles around his neck.

The boxer has a hardon!

That was the first thing Marla 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 Terri Lewis how to play bridge. Marla 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 hardon! Big and red and slick! Marla, as if in a dream sat down and nodded to Terri, the little girl... former cheerleader... cute... pixie face... orangish hair.

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," Marla 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, Marla quailed.

But the dog was sniffing in the direction of Miriam and Terri. Why had Miriam brought her dog along? Marla 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 Terri's bare knees. Was she innocent? Was she a swinger? Marla wished she were sober!

Remorse - over what had happened a short time before - was buried deep in her mind. Marla sobered slightly, slowly, as she sipped the stiff vodka drink. She glanced over the brim of her glass at Terri Lewis. There was a wild, eager, frantic gleam in her eyes.

Her gaze seemed lewd to Marla. 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!"

Marla' gaze swung with Terri's. Her eyes went to the boxer... to his bag of balls and pointed prick. Marla 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 Terri! 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 Terri'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!" Terri trilled.

Marla cringed inwardly. A dog fucking a human female! And the girl was asking - inviting - it! Her cunt had been sated by Willie's mammoth prick - and she didn't want it! Somehow, the idea of watching a young woman - beautiful as Terri was - get fucked by a dog was perverse... but enchanting!

God! the dog had a magnificent cock! Marla 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.

Marla stared. Terri'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!" Terri yipped in protest, clamping her knees together and shutting off the dog's progress.

Marla 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, Marla!"

Marla remained in her chair, watched as Connie and Miriam stood and converged on Terri. She scowled as she watched Miriam stoop and masturbate the dog for a moment.

Then they tugged Terri from her chair. Connie held Terri's arms as Miriam scooped hands up under her dress and hauled down Terri's silkies. There was a brief struggle... the dog sloshed his huge red tongue over Terri's taut crotch. The dog knew he was going to sink his bone in the girl's treasured gash. And Marla suspected he had a jobber big enough to make her hole smoke and make her yell. Marla had seen animals fuck - and they could really poke it in and out of a pussy. REALLY FAST!

Then, as if in a dream, Marla 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 Terri whimpered.

"Want it from the belly or the back, Terri?" Miriam gurgled as she and Connie held her arms, twisted behind her back. Marla' 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 Terri into the middle of the floor. Connie toed an ottoman away from an easy chair. She and Miriam stepped on Terri'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 Marla. "Hold his cock so he can fuck it into her!"

Marla 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 Marla crept across the floor...

"Oh, God, no! I changed my mind!" Terri screamed.

But there was no salvation for Terri Lewis. Connie and Miriam wouldn't let her up. And, timidly, Marla 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, Marla 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.

Terri's feet flew into the air and her ankles locked over the hunching animal's back.

"Aaaaaaaaaanh!" Terri whimpered as the dog flung his cock into her. Marla 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 Terri 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 Marla stroked the black-skinned balls.

And Terri 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 cunt good. Marla leaned back as Miriam and Connie released Terri'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.

Terri 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 Terri 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 cunt. It would never come out - his cock - accidentally. Terri held his dick in her pussy with the inner tension of coital muscles and her thighs clenched around his body.

Marla took the drink Connie offered her, fascinated, hypnotized by the uncanny sight of a dog fucking a woman. And Terri was loving every plunge of his prick and the big ball wedged inside her pussy. Marla wondered if the sex stick was stuck all the way into Terri's womb.

"Is he shoving it into your uterus?" she suddenly asked, impulsively.

"Is - he - ever!" Terri 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 Terri and he gobbled a beautiful tit, gently, into his lascivious mouth and Terri exploded, reached to grab the dog's nuts in both hands and pull his ass toward hers.

"He's shooting a gallon of hot cum into my swat!" Terri squalled with erotic delight.

Marla could see Terri's tight butt hole flutter and spasm and seem to work in and out. Marla felt faint her vision seemed to spin and her tummy felt all swimmy. She realized that watching the session of sexual intercourse between Terri Lewis and the boxer had greatly stimulated her pussy and it was all slippery and hot.

Passion was raging like an inferno through her pussy 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, slippery groove.

"Oh, my God!" Marla whined. Miriam and Connie had gotten the dog's dick out of Terri, 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 slid 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. Marla' 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 ass. But it glazed on past - downward - and speared her throbbing pussy. His knob was still there, ready! He hunched forward and Marla 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 Terri 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, Marla 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 ass to ass. 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 ass 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. Marla 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 cunt and catapulted Marla 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 Marla 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 Terri 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, Marla, 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 Terri to her dildo; Connie was squatting on Terri's face, forcing her to eat her pussy...

In the safety and seclusion of her own home, Marla 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 prick. Almost ill, she washed out her cunt 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 pussy 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!

Marla awoke about mid-morning Sunday. There was a burning itch in her pussy that communicated itself to her ass. 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.

Marla 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 Marla 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 Marla' pussy with absolute, greedy abandon? And hadn't Marla seen her push her cunt onto Terri's mouth?

Idly, suddenly feverish Marla 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.

Marla 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 pussy 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 clit 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!" Marla laughed, holding the door wide.

"Wet pussies, you mean," Miriam grinned, slipping inside and back- swatting Marla' rear as she passed.

"Sopping wet, hot pussies," Connie amended, quickly kissing Marla with