"Blackmailed Into Swapping" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanson Dana)

Chapter 3

Mavis, purposely, had left it dark all through the house, had sequestered herself in the master bedroom that she shared with Philwhen he was home.

After Miriam had stolen from the house, Mavis had taken a long, hot bath, soaking for nearly an hour. She had powdered and perfumed her body, yet a taint seemed to linger in her flesh. Completely sober now, she knew what it was. The memory of her masturbation and having Miriam walk in and assist her into a second orgasm left a dark thought crashing through her mind. Shame and embarrassment gnawed at her.

Another thing, as she considered it as objectively as possible, was Miriam's parting comment about being able to persuade her to agree to mate-swapping. She had been right at the time…There was something callous and threatening in her voice!

Surely, just having seen her playing with her pussy for needed relief wasn't enough to give Miriam a lever to compel her to consent to sleep around with other men! What the hell! A lot of women whose husbands weren't available masturbated. And not just with their fingers, either!

She had read the books. And she had seen some of the tools that were available-some of the girls in college had them-dildoes-and used them regularly, nightly!

Mavis wished that Phil would call, and she didn't. What would she say to him? Could she talk about Miriam's open proposal that they swap husbands? Over the telephone? It might be easier than having Phil in the same room with her. On the other hand, if he were present, she could study his expression and compare it with his comments.

The thought of having Henry Carr or Willie Quentin riding in her sex saddle and banging her cunt with their cocks should have nurtured total revulsion in her mind-but there was an aura of excitement mingled with questioning apprehension about it!

"Oh, damn!" Mavis swore softly, deeply tormented. How could she tell Phil, she wondered miserably, sitting down before the vanity mirror, wearing nothing but panties. As she slowly brushed her long, blonde hair, tears fell from her blue eyes onto her gorgeous boobies. Would Phil understand? Would he be furious? Maybe, he knew about their friends already!

Maybe her husband had already sampled the love wares of Miriam and Connie Quentin! And she was just being set up for a complete Mardi Gras of mate-switching! The thought was slightly repulsive to her.

But she and Phil hadn't been so hot in bed; their lives hadn't been exactly a bowl of passionate porridge lately! But she hadn't realized all of the signs were there for other people to read so easily.

Mavis waggled her taut, trim fanny around on the dressing bench to ease the twitchy-itch in her rich crotch. Phil hadn't given her a full ration of peter for more than a week. And her appetite for man-meat was getting to the point where she needed a lot of it and one as big as a horse!

Even though the experience had been distasteful she forced herself to reflect on it. Miriam, with sandy hair and large hazel eyes, after helping her masturbate, had looked right at her and brought it right out that she knew she and Phil weren't "making it so good."

And they weren't making it!-not in the bedroom, on the sofa in the living room, in the shower standing up, in the tub lying down, in the back seat of their shiny Buick or in the patio or on the back lawn after dark. Mavis started crying harder. She needed her husband to make love to her-not other men in the neighborhood. Oh, how she gloried in having his big bone buried in her swat! And she needed him so much she felt she could just make sausage out of his pecker. For a moment, she had the aching sensation she could use any he-meat-young or old!

Her sense of shame deepened. How could she contemplate surrendering her body-her pussy to another man's cock, her breasts and lips to another man's mouth? The brief episode of her life, before she was married and had taken men's lustful bodies between her thighs, sex stumps in her cavern, was blotted from her mind. Her brief tenure as a prostitute didn't count now. She didn't remember she had taken their thumping cocks deep in her pussy almost as eagerly as she had taken their money.

Mavis was aware that the double ply of her scanty skivvies had wedged into the tight smile of her vulva and was agitating her again. She finished brushing her hair and strolled restlessly around the bedroom.

She paused at a window and cautiously parted the drapes and peered out across the dark back yard. It was after ten o'clock. A light was on in the den of the Quentin residence. The Carr home was blacked out.

She opened the window slightly and strained to listen. There was faint music wafting on the still night air. Mavis quickly concluded it was emanating from the Quentin home. She stared a moment longer and worked the drapes back together. Was it possible the Quentins and Carrs were swinging-had swapped mates and actually were engaging in orgiastic fucking in the same room? Her heart hammered violently as her mind conjured up a lewd spectacle of the four naked people twisted in lewd knots, each screwing the other's marital partner.

"Oh, damn!" she whined, pouting and falling over backwards on the huge double bed. Why did such thoughts start her blood racing, heart palpitating madly? Shedid not want to engage in such adulterous behavior.

She touched her bare breasts gently and found the aching dainty nipples fully extended to the point of exploding. She caressed a hand downward, fingering the thick mesh that adorned her pubic region. She found her crotch was like a bed of live embers, nearly torrid enough to sear her fingertips.

Mavis closed her eyes and worked her hand under the band of her panties and cupped her luscious mound. She had no qualms, then about masturbating again. She closed her mind to the embarrassing incident of Miriam catching her. Delicately, she plowed a finger into the smile and waggled it until the thick petals unfolded in a broad bloom.

"Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, working the finger up and down the long, slick, hot rut, gouging it deep into her vagina, sliding back to the top of the furrow again. "Eeeeeiiiii," she panted, feet planted far apart, heels dug into the bed, frenzied ass bumping and grinding as she whipped her hand back and forth in her snatch, rapidly soaring toward an orgasm.

Just as she slammed into it, fingers buried in her cunt, thumb prodding her stinging clit, the telephone rang. The sound did nothing to deaden her erotic pleasure. A hand left her boobies and reached for the instrument. Still savoring the sweet, sugary blasts of her orgasm deep in her cock-channel, she gained control of her breathing.

"Hello?"

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

"I-wish-you-were-here!" Mavis blurted, clutching her passiongreased snatch. "Why haven't you called before?"

"Been to places where there are no phones, baby," Phil laughed. Then she sensed a frown in his voice. "Anything wrong? Is everything all right?"

Mavis refrained from speaking for a moment as the firecrackers stopped blasting in her swat. "I'm not sure." Then a boldness crept into her mind. "Miriam made a bizarre and startling proposal today." Before he could interrupt, the words cascaded from Mavis' lips, "She suggested we join her and Henry in mate-swapping!"

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

"She said," Mavis forced herself to giggle, "that it stimulates marriage. Can you imagine?"

She was waiting for his condemnation of the proposal, but all he said was, "We'll talk about it when I get home in about four days." And he hung up.

Was he in favor of screwing some other woman and having his own wife fucked by another man? God! She couldn't tell from his terse comments.

Mavis' slumber was troubled and restless. She dreamed over and over that her husband was slipping between her veed thighs-but just as he was about to glide his big, hard cock into her pussy, she opened her eyes and saw the faces of Willie Quentin and Henry Carr and Dell Emerson and Mickey Lewis, the basketball coach who had moved into the neighborhood such a short time before. Their eyes were hot and wild and lewd and they fucked her, one after the other. And Phil was watching, as were Miriam and Connie. And she saw him fucking them!

She wakened, gratefully, to the persistent jangle of the telephone. It was Miriam Carr-and it was nearly ten o'clock in the morning. Miriam suggested she come over for mid-morning coffee. After the nettlesome dreams, Mavis was almost elated to receive an invitation to do something-get out of the lonely house. Gone from her mind was the dream of Connie and Miriam watching her being diddled by their husbands.

"You woke me and I'm glad, Miriam!" Mavis laughed shakily. "Just give me about half an hour for a quick shower and time to throw on some clothes!"

After showering and briskly drying her opulent body, Mavis quickly selected a snowy mini-bra and matching bikini panties. She hummed softly as she shimmied her firm fanny into the briefs. Leaning forward slightly, she adjusted the half-cups over the proud prominence of her cone-shaped boobies. "Aaaaaaahthh," she sighed with pleasure as the cool laciness snuggled against her smooth flesh that was still tingling from the shower and brisk toweling.

She slipped into a light linen blouse that buttoned up the front. With a faint smile of satisfaction she inspected her reflection. The blouse displayed the deep cleft between her breasts in a low-cut vee. Then she stepped into a miniskirt and zipped it up the back. The hem struck her at mid-thigh, showing lots of creamy leg.

Before slipping through the gate of the high, chain-link fence, Mavis paused to peer at the lofty, rugged Wasatch Mountains that ringed the Utah capital to the east. They were mysterious, foreboding and beautiful. Then she hurried on to the Carrs' home. The faraway reverberation of chimes had barely died away and Miriam opened the back door.

"Come in, neighbor," Miriam smiled warmly. "Connie will be along pretty soon. We had a kind of wild little party last night and she has a slight hangover."

Mavis sat down at the kitchen table, aware of a tight, nervous feeling, a fluttering tension in her womb. Had she been right? Had the Quentins and the Carts had a little swap party last night? Would she and Phil have been invited if Phil hadn't been in Wyoming on an insurance case?

The thought was naughtily exciting and frightening at the same time.

Phil, on the telephone, had given her no clue how he would have reacted under such circumstances.

She didn't protest as Miriam laced their coffee with brandy and took a chair opposite her. "Have you thought about our conversation yesterday afternoon, Mavis?"

A tightness in her chest made breathing a little difficult and the tips of her breasts felt icy. "A little," she said, voice slightly choked.

"Phil called last night and…" she paused to sip the brandy and coffee…"I mentioned it to him."

"Well?"

"He didn't say much," Mavis hedged, not wanting to meet Miriam's excited, glinting eyes. "I don't know," she muttered. "Oh, Miriam, I'm not sure it's right-swapping, letting some other woman's husband do it to you…" Words failed.

"Crap!" Miriam laughed brightly. "He isn't just doing it to you, you're getting your jollies from him! Like I said, it adds spice to life and enriches your own marriage. It makes husband and wife appreciate each other that much more!"

Mavis wasn't convinced; her mind was still assailed by doubt. Had Miriam had Willie Quentin in bed with her last night while her own husband was diddling Connie? Maybe, as she had speculated last night, they had swapped and fucked right in the den!

She gulped at her coffee and brandy. She was dismayed at the sudden torrid sensation centered in the pit of her tummy. Miriam's hand was on her left wrist. THAT hand had been in her tormented groove yesterday afternoon and it had produced a heavenly sensation. She had never had another woman's hand on her most intimate place before in her life. It had been a strange and exciting and forbidden pleasure! She wondered if she would submit to it again, if Miriam made a pass. She pressed her thighs together. She wasn't sure, but she sensed she would let Miriam masturbate her, if she made the gesture!

A sudden surge of shame failed to stem the rising tide of need and passion.

"You may have some doubts right now, honey," Miriam said, and Mavis detected a tone of nebulous threat behind the bright, lively voice,

"but you'll see things my way-and we'll all have a wonderful swinging life. What's better, anyway, than one well-hung hubby, than two or three or four?"

My God! Mavis frowned inwardly. How many different men did Miriam and Connie bed? She may have been a prostitute for a short time, but that was out of necessity. She had never, never considered giving her body to several men-for free! Yet, that seemed to be what Miriam was suggesting.

In the next instant, Mavis was stunned. It was as if Miriam had read her thoughts. "Honey, I know all about those few months right after you graduated from Brigham Young University. Now, don't be ashamed or frightened. Hank found out about it while he was investigating the theft at the jewelry store where you worked-afterwards."

Mavis' entire body felt cold and she thought she was going to faint. My God! Miriam and Henry knew she had been a prostitute! She was speechless. It would just kill her-and Phil-and her marriage if Miriam told other people! Had she told the Quentins? She had never felt such morbid misery in her life. Even her first customer as a young whore hadn't made her feel this remorseful! And she knew she couldn't bluff Miriam that she didn't know what she was talking about. Miriam knew!

"Don't worry, honey. Hank and I understand the circumstances. We know you had to do it-no work and all sorts of financial obligations. Lots of girls and women do it for a lot less reason. Now you cheer up! Let's have another brandy royal. Hank and I have never considered telling anyone else-much less Phil."

Mavis watched the lithe, agile woman rise to replenish their drinks.

Despite Miriam's words of reassurance, she knew her terrible secret wasn't safe with them. It was a club over her head. It virtually made her a captive of Miriam, a lever to compel her to do whatever Miriam wanted to do. And what Miriam wanted to do was introduce her and Phil into a wife-swapping ring. Miriam wanted to have Phil in bed and her to screw Henry.

Mavis' thoughts were in such a turmoil that the coffee and brandy seemed tasteless. This was something she couldn't confide to her husband! For the very thing she would have to tell him was the thing she thought she didn't dare for him to ever find out!

"You have met Terry and Mickey Lewis, haven't you?" Miriam changed the topic of conversation. And Mavis was dully aware of her hostess rising to let the family pet, a well-disciplined boxer, into the house. Vision blurred, she watched the handsome animal trot into the utility room.

She heard him rustling and turning before lying down.

"I know them slightly," Mavis said absently, striving to overcome the shock of having been informed that her neighbors knew she had practiced as a prostitute for a time before marrying Phil.

Returning to her chair, Miriam said, "Connie is having her over tomorrow afternoon. We're going to teach her to play bridge. You play, don't you?"

Mavis nodded vacantly. There had been a standing joke at BYU that bridge was an audit course attended between classes.

"Why don't you join us, honey; it takes four to play."

There was that impish, secretive tone in Miriam's voice again. And Mavis' mind tormented her-play what? A mental picture of Terry Lewis flashed in her mind. She was a small young woman-about five feet, a pixie face and orangish hair. She had been a cheerleader in college.

Someone had said she had married Mickey last June right after graduation from Utah State at Logan.

The initial shock of Miriam revealing she knew all about her past was waning and the alcohol was warming her body, the chill was passing.

Miriam was so casual and nonchalant, evincing no sign of condemnation and consternation that her neighbor had been a prostitute for a short time. There was an aura of warmth about Miriam and this comforted Mavis. The fact that Miriam could twist her and bend her was slipping into the back of her mind.

The brandy was numbing her sense of reality and Miriam had said she and Henry wouldn't reveal her shameful secret. Listening to Miriam's cheerful chatter lulled and soothed her. There was a comfortable air of camaraderie in the kitchen as the two of them sat there, sipping coffee and brandy. Mavis knew she was getting a little drunk, but the deep sense of loneliness was fading. She glanced at Miriam and her mind reminded her-this is the woman who helped you masturbate and gave you such intense pleasure.

And Mavis felt no shame. Instead, a sexy warmth flooded all through her body. Sharp flashes of heat darted up her inner thighs into her crotch and seemed to explode in little boom-booms of miniature rolling thunder deep in her insides, igniting little searing fires that licked through her vagina, from the swollen lips of the vulva into the womb. She glanced across the table at Miriam. "You're a good friend and neighbor, Miriam," she muttered, tongue a little thick, sex channel bubbling and burning with sexual need.

Maybe, her slightly fuzzy mind goaded her, Miriam would help her relieve the passionate, tormenting need. Oh, she didn't want Miriam's husband, her mind seemed to cower. She suppressed a giggle as a naughty little thought flashed. She didn't want the police dick's prick!

Her eyes swung from her coffee cup back to Miriam. Mavis squinted slightly. Miriam seemed unaware that the belt of her shorty housecoat had loosened and the vee at the throat was gaping open dangerously. The lapel folds already had sagged sufficiently that Mavis could see the rich inner surface of the two globes of firm, creamy flesh.

Miriam's eyes seemed slightly feverish as she returned Mavis' glance.

She is aware, Mavis told herself, draining her cup. And her own pulse jumped. She had heard and read about woman-love.

Lesbianism!

Instead of feeling revulsion, she was conscious of leaping excitement.

"Let's fill up our cups again and go in the living room," Miriam said softly, tilting the coffee maker and the bottle of brandy. "Connie should be along pretty soon."

Lightheaded and slightly uncertain on her feet, Mavis followed the slender woman who was about equal to her own five feet six.

As if by subconscious design, Mavis sat down on the plush davenport. If she were going to get any sex fun from Miriam it would be here. She watched Miriam sit across the long cocktail table from her in a swivel rocker. Miriam's housecoat was wrapped looser still and Mavis could almost see the full left breast; a part of the dark aureole that surrounded a pointy nipple was visible. As she crossed her legs, Miriam let the two folds of the robe divide on either side of her sleek, tapering thighs. And Mavis wondered if the hazel-haired woman was as naked from the waist down as she was from the waist up.

Mavis sat for a couple of minutes, knees parted to let Miriam gaze on her panty-swathed crotch, then casually crossed her legs. Inner thigh muscles tensed involuntarily, hugging the ripe mound and thick labia.

She itched with excitement-there-and had to resist the mounting temptation to scratch and rub and fondle.

"It's nearly noon," Miriam pouted. "I wonder where Connie is."

A little drunk and daring, Mavis blurted out, "Probably playing with herself!"

Miriam's laughter tinkled deliciously in the still air of the vast room. "Possibly! Perhaps I should call her again."

Mavis twinged with jealousy at the thought of having a third person there to interfere with possible sex-play between her and Miriam. "Oh, let her be! She'll be along pretty soon-you said so yourself!"

"All right, honey!" Miriam laughed and winked. "Don't you, really, think having the affections of three or four men would be more fun than having to settle for just your hubby, Mavis?"

Mavis cowered mentally and she wished that Miriam hadn't broached the subject again about mate-swapping. "Oh, I don't know!"

What she wanted to say was…let's not talk about men; play with my pussy! I've never done it, but the thoughts of girl-girl love are exciting! Can't you see I'm all steamed up and need my cunny cooled off?

Mavis had to refrain from bending forward for a closer look as Miriam leaned across the cocktail table as she uncrossed her legs. Not only did Miriam shave her armpits, but she also shaved her pussy! There wasn't a sign of pubic growth and the full lips gaped, pouting slightly, and Mavis wondered if Willie Quentin had plowed them apart with the head of his penis last night and shoved his cock through them and into Miriam's body!

"See this box, Mavis?" Miriam smiled, slowly drawing her thighs together and shielding her shorn groin from Mavis' eyes.

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

She watched Miriam push it toward her with the tips of her fingers.

"Open it!" Miriam invited. A present? Mavis wondered. "For me, Miriam?"

"Perhaps," Miriam replied and Mavis failed to detect the smirk on her lips and in her voice.

She set the cup on the table and picked up the fancy wooden box.

Holding it on her thighs, she freed the brass catches and tilted the lid back toward Miriam. She glanced inside and slammed the lid.

Miriam laughed delightedly. "Open it! No, I didn't chop off Hank's business! It's too precious!"

Feeling a blush stealing up her throat and into her face, Mavis again opened the box and stared closely. A dildo! What, she wondered, did Miriam need one of these things for when she had her husband and Willie Quentin and Lord knows how many others in their circle of swapping friends?

For a minute, Mavis stammered unintelligibly. It was very realistic, every detail of blood veins and glans and hairy testes elaborately recreated. The shaft of the thing was every bit as long as her husband's nine inches-but it appeared to be at least half an inch thicker!

Again slamming the lid, Mavis found her voice, recoiling from the thought of using such a thing on her own pussy. "What do you need such a thing for?" Her face burned with a fever of embarrassment. She felt a little dirty, just looking at such a contraption in the presence of another woman.

"You might be surprised!" Miriam chuckled with immense pleasure.

Without wanting to, Mavis again opened the box to study the artificial penis and gonads. The testes were the size of golf balls! And the hair on the gadget was as realistic as if it had been taken from a man's groin.

An amusing thought struck Mavis and she giggled, "Where's the asshole?"

She was tempted to remove the contraption from the box, stroke the long, thick shaft. The skin looked as resilient as that of a real, live hard pecker. She tilted the box slightly and saw that the blunt point had a slit in it-just like the genuine cock!

She was so engrossed in examining the hefty dildo, she was only vaguely aware that the Carrs' boxer swaggered in. It happened quickly and Mavis saw it only from the corner of her eye and wasn't sure she had really seen it at all. But she thought Miriam had spread her thighs wide and the stub-nosed canine had swabbed his tongue a couple of times up through Miriam's smooth, hairless crotch.

Then the chimes fractured the silence and Miriam rose to respond. The dog remained behind, sitting beside Miriam's chair. Mavis' eyes followed Miriam as she swept past and she noticed her hostess hadn't bothered to adjust her robe. A fleshy, uptilted left breast protruded saucily through the floppy vee-and the folds just barely covered her lower region.

Mavis touched the artificial organ experimentally and withdrew her hand, slamming the lid. It felt very realistic, firm and rigid, yet pliable. She glanced at the dog and frowned. Filthy dog! she thought.

About two inches of his slick, bright red tool extended from the hairy sheath of skin. Her stomach rolled slightly as the dog bowed his great head between his front legs and he licked nosily at his penis. Then he flopped over on his side and washed his black-skinned balls.

Yet, Mavis was mildly fascinated as she watched the slick rod move in and out of its protective pouch that was swollen with a knob far back toward his rear end.

Mavis' attention was diverted as Miriam returned, followed by the black-haired Connie Quentin. "Errol Flynn," Miriam scolded, "get back in the utility room."

Miriam had returned with a coffee maker and the bottle of brandy. Mavis shuffled over slightly as Connie sat down beside her on the sofa. "Hi, Mavis. God, I had a helluva hangover this morning!"

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

Mavis cowered back against the sofa with intense awkward embarrassment.

Why had Miriam said such a thing? She waited for an indignant reaction from Connie as Miriam managed three more cups of brandy and coffee.

"God forbid!" Connie snorted, picking up her cup. "I felt so damned queasy I never even thought about it! When I woke up I was in no condition or mood for hard cock or masturbating!"

"It was only a stupid comment," Mavis said numbly. "I didn't mean anything, Connie."

"That doesn't bother me, hon!" Connie said, patting Mavis' bare right thigh companionable. Then she giggled. "After what I got last night, I don't think my twatty was primed for sexy convulsions anyway!"

Mavis watched Miriam and Connie light cigarettes, the tenseness of a minute before evaporating and she felt more comfortable.

"Well," Miriam said, as casually as if saying 'Mavis has a headache,' "Mavis is hard-up and has a needy, greedy vag."

"What do you expect, Miriam," Connie defended hugging Mavis' shoulders,

"her stud is out of town and he probably hasn't given her any for quite a few days."

If the conversation hadn't been so casual, Mavis was certain she would have felt mortified. How could these two beautiful women talk so nonchalantly about sex and intercourse and masturbation?

"He's probably getting all kinds of strange nookey while he's away,"

Miriam said cattily.

Mavis was a little too drunk to feel more than a twinge of hurt. She trusted Phil implicitly, had never even considered he might lay some other woman when he was out of town on business. The thought of him mounting someone else, making love to her with his dexterous dong caused a surging ache in her heart. Would he do that to her-when she wasn't getting enough nookey, herself?

"I know for a fact Mavis isn't getting all the cock her canny needs!"

Miriam giggled. And Mavis knew she was blushing again. She felt extremely clumsy and ashamed as Miriam continued. "I even helped her get her gun off yesterday afternoon didn't I, Mavis?"

Mavis couldn't meet the glittering eyes of her hostess. And she knew that Connie was excited by the conversation by the way she pinched her fingers into the smooth flesh of her thigh.

She wished she could get the box with Miriam's sex tool off her lap without their noticing. Actually, it might be fun using the thing, but the idea of a dildo in company with other women was repulsive to her.

"Before you came, I was letting her look at my girl's best friend if her guy's not around," Miriam pursued.

In spite of her embarrassment, Mavis was keenly aware of the twinging need deep in her womb. Somehow, intuitively, Mavis knew that she was going to be the object of Miriam's and Connie's perverted pleasure.

"Let me see," Connie said, opening the box. Mavis couldn't help herself; her eyes were drawn to the huge, artificial hard-on and simulated hairy testes. The slick head drew her attention and her twat fluttered, creating an ache in the area of the cervix. It was so huge!

She wasn't sure her channel could accommodate such a mammoth shaft and bulbous glans.

Connie's hand had stolen under the hem of Mavis' skirt and the tips of her fingers were teasing and kneading only inches from her plump, firm mound. The strange hand playing around down there sent little thrills of ecstasy through her pelvis and her loins itched.

Mavis knew, with almost certainty, that these two young women were going to use the dildo on her-she felt like a captive, powerless to resist. Yet, she knew she could jump up and flee to her own house-but her will wasn't strong enough. As Connie scratched a nail against the sheer panties, grating the coarse pubic mesh, Mavis tried to press her thighs together over her hot snatch. But her knees crept apart, giving Connie's fingers freer access to her crotch. Mavis leaned back against the sofa, tried to stifle her shallow breathing. She knew she was going to be fucked with the dildo, that Miriam and Connie were going to ply it into her cove and get their kicks from violating her!

With eyes half-closed, she saw Miriam rise from her chair and set aside her cup. Someone took the box with the tool from her hands and she was conscious of being pushed over on the sofa. Hands were pushing her skirt up around her waist and fingers were playing with her tummy. Then there was a fumbling with the waistband of her bikini panties and they were being shucked from around her taut buttocks and down her thighs, off over her feet. She was naked down there!

Gentle, yet demanding hands were pushing her feet up, knees far apart.

Fingers were toying with her pussy petals, caressing, pinching, parting. She turned her head and saw Miriam, stark naked, holding the big instrument. She was about to get that huge prod poked into her vagina. And she just knew it was long enough to penetrate beyond the cervix, into the womb. The realization caused her uterus to flutter and ache hungrily.

A fingertip was goading her clitoris, but Mavis couldn't see that.

Between the vee of her upraised thighs she could see Connie's amused face. And above was Miriam, her hands holding the immense dildo. She released it with one hand, let the big head dangle toward her face. It was so near, Mavis felt her eyes were crossing as she stared in slight fright at the realistic head with the narrow slot in the blunt tip.

"Open your mouth, sugar," Miriam urged, patting Mavis' blonde hair. "We must get it moistened; you'll do that with your mouth."

Oh, God! Mavis quailed. The thing even smelled like a man's sex gadget!

And she was about to have it thrust into her mouth. Miriam was going to fuck that artificial cock into her mouth-down her throat? "No, no, no!" she whimpered-but her lips parted, mouth opened wide. And Miriam worked the huge knob deep into her mouth and screwed it around. She pried it in deeper and Mavis nearly gagged as the fake cockhead was goaded into her gullet; deeper and deeper and deeper until the hairy balls sagged against her chin and the upper pubic growth tickled her upper lip and nose. Only once when she was working as a prostitute-had she ever had anything like it in her mouth. A customer had given her an extra hundred dollars for oral sex. Now, she was being fucked in the mouth with a dildo! And it tasted salty and musky-just like that man's hot, hard peter. The only difference was-he only had about four inches of pecker!

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

"I'm going to do it!" Mavis croaked, cheeks of her ass tensing and bouncing for more of the gimmick in her snatch. "I'm cumming!" she howled. "Please! More! Cram it into me! I'm cumming! Fuck it to me fast! I need lots of fucking!"

She didn't care if Miriam and Connie were laughing, gloating as they shoved the synthetic prick into her body. She was on fire inside and her loins burned, flanks heaved with the effort and pleasure of having the breeding tool socked into her.

There was a grinding, twisting, levering in her vagina and Mavis felt she was about to faint from the erotic, heavenly impulses that stabbed all through her belly. Even her rectum seemed ablaze and she wondered, hazily as she up-fucked her bottom, if it were possible to have a rectal orgasm.

It was! Sensual pleasure was rippling all through her as Miriam continued to fuck her with the big pussy jabber. She wanted to relax and enjoy the cascading waves of enjoyment, but Miriam continued to cram her twat with the thing. Then, as if far away, she heard Connie's frantic voice.

"Pull it out of her, Miriam! I'm going to eat her pussy! I haven't had a good piece of hair pie in a long time! And I'm going to gobble Mavis' snatch! God! Her cunt smells aromatic and glorious. And I'm going to tongue her pussy good!"