"The wayward wifes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Grant)

Chapter 2

Patty turned over, curling into a fetal position and silently began to cry. The tears of shame and degradation rolled down her alabaster cheeks and stained the sheets, and her lips quivered with remorse and wretchedness. Yes, it was her fault. Mr. Jennings had been right She had unconsciously tried to lead him on, to excite him, to try to arouse him as a male animal. And all because her own mate, the man she had voluntarily picked out of all the other hundreds of thousands of men in the world, was away from her side and like all other women she did want to be wanted. His father was all too right: she was nothing better than a gutter whore even though she had never in her wildest dreams wanted it to go this far.

She moaned and rolled further into a ball, clenching her hands into fists and closing her arms about her tender, recently defiled flesh. Oh God… how could she ever face Larry, her dear, sweet, kind husband who was fighting so diligently in some disease ridden jungle for her and their unborn children’s sake? How could she go to him, make him happy and loving with the sperm of his father congealing inside her womb? And then another even more horrible thought hit her. What if… she were pregnant by this man… her own husband’s father!

Mr. Jennings low hum of contentment came through the bathroom door. Patty was tempted to turn over and see what he was doing, but she decided against it, preferring to act as though she was asleep. Maybe he would leave her alone, then, would honor her unconscious state and keep his hands and penis to himself. Maybe she wouldn’t be forced to again perform the lewd and perverted incest he had insisted upon.

And she had subconsciously caused. A moan of agony escaped from her lips.

Tom hummed the same monotonous tune from the bathroom to the bed. Her back was to him but Patty could picture in her mind’s eye his rapacious leer and sneering countenance and thick, bulging penis hanging from his groin and partially covered by a dewlap of belly fat. She heard him scratch his hairy chest and yawn, and she thought that this was a good sign… he was sleepy, yawning like that, and perhaps… she felt the bed sag and protest as his weight forced it down, then he climbed under the sheet and moved up against her. She could feel the warmth of his body as his naked flesh molded to hers, and her backbone became encased with his chest and stomach and her buttocks pressed against his thighs… his cock rubbed the split of her ass cheeks, tantalizingly close to her anus… and his hot breath streamed against the nape of her neck and then his hand slowly, silently began to worm its way over her side.

“Patty?” he whispered, “Are you awake, Patty?”

She tensed up, every nerve on fire from his heathen touch. She pursed her lips and refused to answer.

“Patty? I want more. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart! That bastard, that son-of-a-bitch has the gall to call me sweetheart after raping me! Patty clenched her teeth, swallowing the cry of anguish which welled within her throat. The hot tears of subjugation began to flow again. She prayed he wouldn’t notice her crying and realize she wasn’t really asleep.

His fingers continued their nasty game. They teased and pawed like lust-perverted spiders over her tender, satin skin, making goose bumps rise in their trail.

“Tomorrow, Patty,” he crooned, “Tomorrow we’ll have all day to fuck. Maybe other things, too. Good night, sweetheart.”

Oh, would he stop calling me sweetheart! And tomorrow… I can’t face the rays of sunlight and the horror of being exposed in the purity of the day. Oh, God, no! I’d rather die first! And that word… fucking… his crude, filthy degrading language makes my stomach turn inside out. And other things… what did that mean?

Patty remembered the times when Larry had wanted her to kiss his penis, to actually lean over while he stretched out on the bed and put her lips to the head of his erected organ. And he said he would kiss her between the legs in return. He had said it felt good. Not good, but fantastic. How perverted, how sickening a thought. Is this what I will be subjected to tomorrow with my father-in-law? His bulky stub of a penis jerking toward my mouth? No… no… no…! her mind screamed.

Yet Patty stayed quiet and still and presently Tom lost interest and rolled over. Soon she heard him breathe the sighs of sleep and presently he began to softly snore.

She thought what she should do. Run, Patty, run! her brain told her, but where could she go? Who was there who would protect her? Was there a man decent enough to understand what had happened and would fight off any further attempts by her father-in-law? No, she knew of none. Certainly none of Larry’s so-called friends would help. They would tell him first chance they got… that is, after trying to make love to her for themselves. Her marriage and the last vestiges of her self-respect would be shattered if she so much as dared to approach any of Larry’s friends.

Suddenly she could not stand it any longer. There were too many things to think about all at once; she was just going to have to get away, anyplace, and then worry about sorting out her tortured mind. But get away she must! Tonight! Before that mad beast beside her decided to crawl between her legs and spew his seed into her again!

She waited long enough to assure herself that her father-in-law was completely asleep and then cautiously she folded the covers back and got out of the bed. Her bare feet touched the rug and she found her slippers, then grabbing her bathrobe, she made her way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Then she stopped, and holding her breath, crept across the room, afraid with each step that he would hear her and wake up. Then she took hold of his pants and silently slipped out of the room. She rifled his pockets for his car keys and then dumping the pants on the floor, she hurried to the garage and his three-year-old Chevy Impala.

She had forgotten just how bad the exhaust pipes of Tom’s car were. They roared with the echoing sound of motorboats as she started the engine in the garage, and she heard Tom’s shout as he awoke and realized she was leaving. Luckily the garage door was open, she moved the lever into reverse and stepped on the gas just as the massive hulk of Tom raced out the side door.

He waved his fist, an almost ludicrous sight as he stood naked in the driveway, silhouetted by the Impala’s headlights. Then he was gone from her vision as Patty gunned the car forward and down the otherwise quiet residential street.

Marcia! That was it! The name of Marcia Allen came to Patty like a flash as she neared the first traffic light. She had met Marcia Allen when Larry had returned from boot camp. He had run across Marcia’s husband, Roger, while he was in training. They had been in the same barracks together by chance, and after they had found out they were from the same city, they became friends. The four of them went out together a few times when Larry and Roger were home, and Larry and she had even gone to a New Year’s Eve party at the Allens. She liked Marcia and Roger… and Marcia would surely understand her plight of all people.

After all, Marcia was also alone. Her husband was away in Viet Nam now, as was Larry, and that made a certain common bond between them. Patty drove across town to a slightly better section around Westlake, and then to the stucco duplex where Marcia Allen lived. Nervously licking her lips, and extremely self-conscious of her nakedness under the flimsy bathrobe, Patty hurried up the cement walk and rang the doorbell. At first nobody answered, and she rang again.

“Marcia!" she called out. “Please let me in!" A light suddenly went on in the back of the house, and then Patty heard the sounds of approaching footsteps and then the door cracked open slightly, and the sleepy head of Marcia peeked out.

“Who is it?" she said groggily.

“Patty,” she replied breathlessly. “Patty Jennings.”

The door closed momentarily as Marcia removed the chain and then she opened it wide. “Come in, Patty,” she said frowning, “What brings you here at this time of night?"

“Oh God it was awful,” Patty moaned, running in the house, “I… I” she choked on the words of her rape, and then sank to the couch beside the door, sobbing bitterly and hysterically. “Oh Marcia, help me!"

Marcia was completely taken aback by Patty’s strange actions. She had never seen the young wife of her husband’s friend so distraught before; she was nonplused as to what to do. She stood for a moment, looking down on the obviously barely covered form, and pulled her own thin gown tighter around her.

Marcia Allen was suddenly aware of Patty’s female body.

She had to admit there was a certain amount of jealousy about her reaction, for Patty was full breasted and ripe hipped, while Marcia felt her own body was too thin. She had admired Patty from the first time they had met, conscious of how the men stared at her flaming hair and rich skin and bright, almost innocent eyes. She recalled how she had stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom after Patty and Larry had gone home that night, staring at her own nude reflection in the glass, almost weeping at her small, tight breasts and thin hips. Roger had been in the living room finishing the last of the scotch, and never knew that she was so upset.

He would have laughed at her if he had known. How many times had he told her that stupid phrase: “The closer to the bone, the sweeter the meat!"

The same erotic impulse creeped up the insides of Marcia’s thighs as she stood, trembling over Patty. Yes, that first night, alone in the bedroom, she had molded and squeezed her breasts, trying to magically exercise them into the exquisite balloons she knew lay encased in Patty’s bra. Then her hands had slid down the flat plain of her stomach and rubbed her loins, her palms stroking her resilient skin, feeling her prominent hip bones and pelvis, and then she dipped further, and her legs had parted, wet for release… and then her fingers tantalized the red lips of her vagina.

“Oh Marcia, it was awful, just awful,” Patty wailed. “He was like an animal, an enraged beast, with only one thing on his mind. Ooooohhhhh…!“ She continued to cry and Marcia pulled herself back to the present with a jerk. She tried to comprehend what Patty was trying to tell her, what the problem was which had brought her to this house in the dead of the night.

“I never thought Larry’s father could be so cruel, so depraved! Oh if Gladys only knew what he had done!“ Suddenly Patty whipped the lower half of her robe aside, and Marcia gasped.

“Look, Marcia, look at the marks he left!”

Marcia did stare, her whole being reacting with sudden lust at the spread sight of Patty’s naked cunt. Without modesty but without arousal, either, Patty displayed the black and blue scarred inner thighs, and the rough and ragged pubic mound. Marcia groaned, which Patty mistakenly took as a sigh of sympathy, and she sat down beside the woman, putting a hand around Patty’s shoulder to comfort her. It was also so that she could be closer to that delectable young body which shone up at her.

The autumnal hued pubic hair still glistened from Tom’s savage fucking. A droplet of dried cum remained near the top of the cuntal opening, a mute testimony to the scene which Patty was hysterical over. The vagina was blood engorged, with still swollen lips which stuck through the pubic hair like a mountain range through the fog. It seemed to reach out to Marcia, and she couldn’t remove her eyes from its magnificence. It was soft and lush, and with long lips and a tight, coral-hued slit, all well divided and symmetrical and rounded. The whiteness of Patty’s groin set off the carmine redness of her warm, graceful seductiveness, and Marcia could imagine flame to burst from her hole. Even the clitoris, large and still hard from the rape, shown through and reminded Marcia of the Indian phrase for such a vulva: abou tertour, the crested one. It was all she could do to stop herself from reaching out with tender fingers and touching it.

“That’s… that’s awful,” she managed to reply. “I can’t think of anything more horrible. Oh, Patty, oh you poor dear!”

She pressed the distraught Patty to her, and the young girl nestled in her shoulder, still crying with shame and humiliation. The robe slid still further from Patty’s thighs, exposing her belly and sides and Marcia quivered with perverted desire.

“What are you planning to do?” Marcia asked.

“I don’t know. I’m so confused and wretched! Mr. Jennings threatened to blame it all on me, to tell Larry and Gladys I had seduced him, had egged him on, if I so much as breathe a word of what happened. Oh, I can’t lose Larry! I can’t take the chance he’ll believe his father and not his wife!” She broke away from Marcia’s grasp and looked up at her, tear stained eyes pleading for help. “What can I do? Oh, Marcia, what can I do?”

“Shhh, Patty, you’re all upset. Things will look better in the morning. Trust me. I mean, it was a repulsive thing which happened to you, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“How… how can you be so calm!”

“Well, face facts. You’re a big girl now, Patty. You weren’t physically damaged, were you? I mean, you weren’t a virgin that’s been torn apart and you’re not pregnant, are you?”

"I… I hope not.” Patty convulsed at the thought. “What if I am? Can you imagine what would happen if Larry ever found out that he was a brother to my child and not its father? It would crush him!”

“When was your menstrual period?"

“What? Oh, I see what you mean. Last week.

“There. You see? A chance in a thousand that you are pregnant from Tom. It’ll take some time to heal the mental scar, but maybe it would be wiser to wait and see what develops with your father-in-law rather than go rush into something foolish.”

“But where can I go, Marcia? I won’t go back… ever!“

Marcia suddenly realized that an opportunity for her own gratification was at hand. What is the matter with me? her mind cried out. My God, here I am, setting this poor, raped friend of mine up for another depraved act… why can’t I stop myself? Don’t I like men enough. Why must I prey on women… on her… as well?

Marcia knew the answer to her own questions. It was an answer she had often had to live with. She liked sex; all kinds, all ways, all the time. Roger was gone, there wasn’t a man around to stick his cock inside her, so she was going to have to try to interest Patty in the next best thing. A woman’s touch. She groaned inwardly at the sensuous thought, then smiled at Patty and said calmly: “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Can I? Can I really?”

“Certainly! I’m all alone, and this house is built for two. That is, if you don’t mind sharing the… bed with me.”

Patty never caught the hesitation of Marcia’s reply. She was too overjoyed at the prospect of a way out from the horrid situation she had fled from to notice the intense and struggling facial features of Marcia and the way her fingers stroked the robe gently. “No, I don’t mind. I promise I’ll be quiet and I’ll help out with the housework and pitch in for the food… Marcia, I’d be so grateful!”

Marcia thought to herself of the pleasant ways which Patty could show her gratefulness. “Yes, I’m sure everything will work out just fine!”

The two girls talked over some hot coffee for another hour, Patty telling all the gory details of the rapacious actions she had been part of, and Marcia offering commiseration whenever possible. Marcia was on Patty’s side all the way, standing up beside her to ward off the evilness of the male animal, or at least that was the impression she was trying to give. At last it was time to retire, and after putting out towels for Patty and showing her where she could put her things later, they were together, alone, in the bedroom.

“I sleep in the raw,” Marcia said as she discarded her gown. “I put this on to answer the door, but I find the blankets are warm enough. I’m stifled otherwise.”

Patty gulped as she viewed Marcia’s slender form. “I… I do the same normally.” She hesitated, her hands on the belt of her robe, then with a small shrug as though saying “It’s all between us girls,” she opened the robe and slipped it from her shoulders. The two girls smiled at each other, their nudeness a natural thing of beauty to each other.

Patty was struck by the slim, and to her, enviable, body before her. Marcia had the apple shaped breasts and wasplike waist she had so often desired for herself, and her hips had the kind of scalloped thighs and slender loins of a woman built for sports. Patty glanced down at her own fullness, wondering if she would be happier if she were more like Marcia, if sex would be more stimulating if there were less flesh between the nerve endings. She stared at the softness of the pubic hair between Marcia’s legs, and the lewd picture came into her mind of a penis slipping wetly into the narrower aperture.

Marcia, as if reading Patty’s brain, sat on the edge of the bed and raised one leg to the spread, resting her thin, long-toed foot upon the coverlet and seemingly inspected her toenails. There was no self-consciousness about the fact that she was facing Patty with her cuntal mouth splayed wide. The cool night air played across her thin lipped vagina, making it tingle with urgency. She could almost feel her lubricating juices beginning to seep from the insides of her pussy. She knew that Patty was gazing at her crotch, and by some basic, animalistic instinct, she also knew that Patty had the same urges, untapped as they may be, to explore the same sex. With all the cunning of a female predator, she smiled to herself and bided her time… waiting… waiting…

Patty crawled under the covers on the other side of the bed, shaken at the sudden strange intoxication which had swept over her. She couldn’t understand the peculiar tingling which had happened to her when she had viewed the vaginal opening of her friend, the odd thrill at watching Marcia’s small breasts perk up when she had removed the gown over her head, and the way her dark, negroid colored nipples had contrasted with the paleness of her skin. It was… almost as if she was sexually aroused by this woman!

Impossible! What a horrid thought! What a sick, sick thing to imagine! First her whoredom with her husband’s father… and now lesbianism… Oh God what was happening to her, to the moral code which had been so much a part of her life? Had she plummeted to the bottom of moral turpitude by being apart from Larry? Was the loss of her hymen a signal to debauch herself in carnal abuse?

She turned away from the now stretching woman who yawned beside her, and tried to will herself asleep. Sleep eluded her.

Instead, her mind went back to an incident of many years previous, back when she was but still a child, innocent and first awakening to the mysteries of puberty. She was ten, her mother still alive, and the family was visiting some relations who lived on a lake in Oregon. There, in the little dressing room which was used for changing into swimming suits, she had walked in on her Aunt Rosalie, who had been standing nude, drying herself.

Everybody else had been up at the house, and it had been just Aunt Rosalie and her, just like now it was just Marcia and herself. Aunt Rosalie was a big woman with a figure almost as ripe as the one Patty had now, and she had stood proud and spread legged, rubbing the woolly towel over her thighs and pubic area, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing up and down until Patty had come in and interrupted.

It was all as though it was happening again, Patty thought to herself as she slipped into the drowsy dream-world of half sleep. The scene was vivid before her mind’s eye…

What are you doing, Auntie?" she had asked; and Auntie had merely said she was drying herself, that’s all. And would she like to have Auntie dry her, too?

Patty had giggled and wriggled out of her own wet suit and stood, her slightly plump girlish body dripping and goosebumpy, and Auntie had closed the towel around her and rubbed. She had rubbed Patty’s hair and face and arms and legs and then her tummy, stopping for a moment to tickle the sweet little navel and causing Patty to laugh. Then upwards to the forming breasts, and the tingling fingering through the material as Auntie rolled the small teats between her thumb and forefinger.

“What are you doing?” Patty had asked, suddenly aware of a strange new sensation; an electrifying, almost stinging charge which started at her breasts and radiated throughout her body. She looked down at her Auntie’s manipulations, fascinated to find that for the first time, her breasts seemed to grow larger, that her little nipples were protruding and were firm like light switches being turned on and off as they were stroked up and down. “I’m… I’m getting bigger!” she had said in awe.

Aunt Rosalie had hit upon the one fear Patty had… the rather pointless fear that her breasts weren’t going to develop. Auntie had chuckled and rubbed harder. “Why, this is how you make them bigger, sweets,” she had purred. “You exercise them. A lot, just like your Aunt Rosalie does. And look at mine!” She had stopped with the towel and held out one breast for Patty to examine, and Patty, with the curiosity of a child, had reached up and touched the mammoth gland. Rosalie had moaned softly and at first Patty had been afraid she had hurt her, but Rosalie had pressed the hand to her breast tightly with her own, dropping the towel, and said; “More, more, sweets. See how my tit grows?”

And it had. The large nipple seemed to burst from the ruby aureole around it, popping into view like a worm from an apple, and Patty had gasped. Rosalie had led her to the wood-slat bench and had told her to lie down upon it, and then she had proceeded to exercise the tiny breasts, causing Patty to breathe more rapidly and harder, “Oh… oh… oh!”

It had been terribly exciting, she had thought afterwards, but she never knew whether it had been genuine passion or not. She had, in subsequent years, refused to think it had been sexual arousal, for at that time, she did not even know the word, much besides the feeling. She had automatically reached out again and touched the wondrously soft breast of Auntie Rosalie, and Auntie had then told her how to rub and twist and cup her so as to make it better. “Yes… yes, sweets… that’s it… that’s it…”

Auntie Rosalie had soon moved her other hand down to the thin slit of Patty’s hairless little cunt, her eyes feasting on the mound, with excitement. Patty had let her do it without question, not afraid or worried, as Auntie was a wonderful friend she had loved. She had kept massaging the warm breast Auntie proffered, tracing a finger over the nipple, marveling on how it was so big and just stuck out! It was so firm and had no prominent veins or anything imperfect about it as her mother’s had.

“Oh, Patty, you’re so good,” Auntie had exclaimed. “If you only knew how much I wanted you since you came this summer!” She had begun to twist about, moving her body until it was beside Patty on the bench, her legs stretched out and her heels off the floor and she continued to pillage the virginal girl’s cunt. Patty had noticed that Auntie’s hand was no longer on her breast but that it was between her own legs, pulling and stretching the secret area hidden by the soft mat of pubic hair… just as she was doing to Patty. Her vaginal area was dry and Auntie Rosalie’s fingers hurt a little, but she had been too full of wonder and excitement to protest.

“Ooooohhhhhhh,” Auntie had gasped. “I’ve just got to eat you up!” Patty hadn’t know what she had meant, but merely stared as Auntie stood and spread the towel on the floor, then beckoned to Patty to come join her. Patty had dropped to her knees in front of the lying woman, and then arms went about her and she had been pulled to Rosalie and they had kissed. Auntie’s mouth was open and her tongue played around, and Patty, catching the idea, opened her mouth and accepted the tongue. Auntie had rolled about, clutching the child tightly to her, moaning and making noises and moving her body against Patty. Then the aunt had moved from Patty’s face downwards, sucking the lump of forming breast, still shifting and moving around. It was all so quick and new to Patty, but she had yet to complain, it being so soft and gentle.

Rosalie’s tongue traversed Patty’s belly and had gone deep into her crotch. She had moved to a better position and spread the matchstick legs apart and licked the insides of the young thighs and probed beneath the crotch with her finger until the tip of it found the anus.

“Oh, we have two little holes here,” she had observed excitedly. “And let’s see what’s hidden in here.

Patty had lain transfixed as Auntie stretched apart the nubile cunt lips and explored both visually and with her fingers. Later, Patty could remember that, and she had repeated the act in front of mirrors, wondering if her vagina really looked that pretty to somebody else. By the look on Auntie’s face, it did at the time, and Patty had a great sense of pride, a new feeling of confidence at becoming a woman…

Auntie had licked upwards then, inserting her tongue where her fingers had been, and Patty jerked with the wild touch. It had been so wonderful and warm and nice and loving. The licking and sucking had continued as if Auntie was trying to find something, although it had been too early in Patty’s maturation for a clitoris to be discernible. Patty had watched her aunt intently, breathing heavier and heavier as the tongue had darted in and out, loving the feeling of the suction of her lips.

Rosalie had shifted to her knees, her face and mouth pressed hard between the little girl’s legs, and when Patty had moved her she could see that her aunt had her hand between her own legs, and she had heard the unmistakable slushing sound which later she had experienced when she masturbated.

“Oh… oh… Oh… oh,” Rosalie had moaned in a funny, slow whine. She had raised her head long enough to say; “I’m going to cum, Patty. I’m… going… to… cum! Tell me you love me, Patty, tell me you love me!"

“I love you, Auntie Rosalie.”

Her body had convulsed and contorted in rapid jerks, and she had made more pitiful whines and sighs. Then she had suddenly jumped upright into a sitting position and looked at Patty with a wide and satisfied smile on her face. “Oh, sweets, you were wonderful!“ she had gurgled. She then grabbed Patty in a tight embrace and kissed her cheeks and neck and shoulders. “You were so very good! But let’s not tell Mummy or Daddy or anybody about this, all right? We’ll keep this a secret just for us, and maybe, if you’re a good girl, we can do it again!” Patty had nodded and smiled pleasantly back, which evidently the aunt took as a sign of agreement.

She tossed in Marcia’s bed, whimpering and moaning with the dream of her first experience with sex. She had tried to live it down, to forget about her Auntie Rosalie and her lesbian ideas, but she had never quite succeeded. There always seemed to be the spark of forbidden interest in the back of her mind, springing to the fore during high school when she was in the shower room with other naked girls, or at the YWCA, or when she caught sight of pictures in the girlie magazines…

Dimly she heard the faint rustling of the sheet beside her, but her brain was unconscious enough to not tell her who it was. She tried to open her eyes but they seemed weighed shut.

“Patty,” came the ethereal voice through the sleep clouds, “Can I get you anything? You seemed to be having a nightmare?

“No, no, nothing…“ Patty heard herself reply in a slurred voice. “Who…?”

“It’s Marcia, Patty.”

Patty felt one of her hands being stroked, and for some reason past her comprehension the bedcovers seemed to have slipped from her. But it was so warn.., so warm and the stroking felt so good.

“Poor Patty. Poor, poor Patty,” came Marcia’s voice from far away. “I’ll rub your head, Patty. That will make you relax.”

Patty felt the fingers, little points of softness around her forehead and temples. She began to slumber again as the hypnotic voice continued.

“I know what you need, Patty. You need to be loved, only gently, not that brutal, crude way as Mr. Jennings did. You need a woman’s love, Patty, I know you do…”

“Yes… Patty murmured in a drugged tone.

“You have such a beautiful body, Patty. Would you like me to rub your beautiful body just like I’m rubbing your head? Of course you do.”

Without waiting for an answer, Marcia moved her hands from Patty’s face down her arms, then back up and around the twin peaks of breasts, carefully avoiding the nipples. Her eyes were hot upon the rounded globes, the teats growing erect automatically. Yes, Marcia thought, men are the best, with their great cocks and bloated balls and hairy bodies, but it’s nice to have a woman once in a while… a velvet smooth, creamy skinned female to fuck and suck and crawl upon with passion.

She began to talk to Patty again, soothingly telling her how beautiful and desirable she was, and while she crooned, she stroked the now turgid nipples and then slid one hand down the smooth, flat stomach and touched the first downy soft pubic hairs.

Patty moaned slightly, her hips beginning to gyrate and she thought how lovely was the feeling, how exquisitely nice. She reached up her hand and Marcia pressed the fingertips against one tit, and Marcia’s cunt fired with sudden desire. She stretched her nude body out against Patty and moaned as Patty massaged mesmerically the diamond hard nipple. Gently she spread Patty’s vaginal lips apart and touched the bud of her clitoris. Patty undulated at the sudden touch, and the clit rose to attention, the fluids of her sexual awakening flowing on the already sweat stained sheets.

But who was doing this to me? Larry? Patty suddenly snapped into consciousness and realized with full horror exactly who it was… Marcia!… and what she was doing! Her eyes flew open just as Marcia bent her head and her lips pressed against Patty’s with an agile, pliant, sweet possession. Dear God! I can’t let myself do this! But it was too late. As the flutterings of Marcia’s tongue enflamed her mouth, she capitulated to the torment of her unfulfilled lust. Tom had raped her, but the damage had been done. He had, in spite of her rejection, aroused her physical needs which up until then she had been able to control since Larry had left. And now, after dreaming of the incident with Auntie Rosalie, she could not have resisted Marcia’s advances.

And in spite of the degradation she felt at accepting another woman’s lovemaking, she responded. Patty sucked the invading tongue as Marcia trailed her agile, spiderlike fingers over her body, tormenting her breasts and thighs and vagina, their bodies locked together.

Finally Marcia raised above her, and she teased Patty’s rigid nipple while she roved her lascivious eyes over the lovely redhead’s voluptuous nakedness. She trembled with anticipation as she spoke.

“I’m going to make you cum, Patty. You’re going to explode like you never have before. I promise!“

Patty moaned. “Oh yes… yes..

“I promise…“ Marcia repeated as she moved down the bed, her tongue making a trail of hot saliva over the quivering passionate flesh. Patty raised her head, and she was suddenly reminded of the similarity between the scene now and the one with her aunt as Marcia nestled her head into the hollow of her opened thighs. She felt the kisses on her tender, blood filled vulva and the hot breath upon her pubic hair… only there was a difference. A wonderfully magical difference. This time it was more than a nice feeling… it was nirvana, heaven, complete mind-blowing Valhalla! The swiftly flickering tongue sent taunting messages radiating up her body to her brain, making her respond with conditioned reflexes.

Patty hissed and groaned and rolled her head from side to side on the pillow, and her clitoris jerked and strained as Marcia grazingly tickled the bud.

Marcia worked insanely, stroking from the top to the bottom and then back to the top of Patty’s splayed, almost yearning cunt. Each gentle lap brought an involuntary lifting of the loins, as the tip of her tongue toyed with Patty’s labia. She pressed her mouth closer, reaching up with her hands to play with the juggling breasts. Her mouth was a seething, hot oven of lust, invading the vaginal orifice and lashing the erect clitoris and licking the whole wet furrow with an eellike tongue which was slippery with flowing cuntal juices.

Patty mewled with uncontrollable, unsatiated passion. Her belly rippled and she rubbed her hands against her thighs and curled her fingers in Marcia’s strewing hair, forcing the woman’s face deeper to her burning cunt. Marcia was gasping for breath… sucking air in short surges so as to not break the fervent contact of her eager mouth, tongue and lips. Even her nose was burrowing the wild depraved groin, the odor of the female musk driving her still wilder.

“Oh… oh… Ooooohhhhh, I can’t stand it!" Patty screamed. “It’s too much… too much!"

Her voice died in a strangled sob and sigh, but then broke out again in a high pitched wail as the seething lust overflowed and swept through her. She twisted in the grip of her sweet torture, twisting and writhing but never breaking the mouth which was glued to her cunt. The tongue continued to stroke her clitoris, sending lightning like stabs through her marrow. She gasped and groaned… and then she came, like the ravaging hurricane of a summer season, to pound and wash and flood her senses.

“Aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!“ she cried, lifting her buttocks off the bed. Shuddering violently she relaxed as the climax passed over her.

But Marcia did not let go. She continued to pillage the clitoris and vagina, licking the slightly acid secretions of Patty’s orgiastic release, sucking the swollen lips of her throbbing pussy, kissing the trembling inner thighs.

“Enough! Enough!“ whimpered Patty. But they both knew it wasn’t. Patty sobbed aloud and she convulsed, her hands once more locked in Marcia’s hair as her stomach went rigid. She wanted, yet at the same time, did not want, Marcia to stop. Again she spasmed inside, cumming once more, her heart slamming wildly against her ribs, her mind adrift with the pleasure.

Then once more… with Patty emitting animal like sounds from deep in her chest, her eyes glazed and her mouth limply open.

And again and again and again for the rest of the night.