Her hands were still under the lower edges of the tight corselet, gripping the bulging buttocks with sharp fingernails. She pressed her little finger a bit farther into the woman's asshole, still being careful not to hurt or frighten her.
"Bet you a thousand you can't get her off," Price said. He had crawled out from under Marcy, and lifted his wife's slip from behind so he could watch what the blonde girl was doing between Agatha's thighs. His eyes glistened at the sight of Marcy's tongue driving into the russet red cunt. "A thousand says Frosty can't come."
"I'll take that bet," Mrs. Price flared. "I'll see you and raise you a thousand!"
"Well, now, I…"
Mrs. Price's broad bottom was rolling in a constant rhythm, her thighs closing tighter and tighter around Marcy. Even Price had to admit that if she wasn't cuming, she was certainly breathing hard and trying to.
"You can do it! You can get over the hump!" Marcy encouraged in a husky whisper. "Once you make it the first time, it's downhill all the way. Once you discover what it's like, you'll cream your panties just having a man or a cunt-loving gal look at you. You can do it, I know you can!"
"Help me, Marcy! I want to so bad! Help me, darling!" Mrs. Price pleaded. "Drive your tongue in deep, baby! Make me cum! Make me cum!"
"I will, I will!" Marcy said, half-sobbing. "I'm Marcy McCall, super-sexpot. I can do anything sexy I set my mind to. Even Dr. Villiers is constantly amazed at me, and what I can accomplish."
Never had she driven her tongue into a cunt with such fury, never had she mouthed and chewed and licked and sucked and manipulated with such skill and energy. She had to bring this woman out, had to convince her of the joys of oral sex so that she and her husband could share them. This was the reason she was Marcy, the purpose for which she had been born, the vision Dr. Villiers had had when he created her and made her his masterpiece. It had been intended since time began that she rescue women like Agatha Price from the agonies of sexual deprivation.
As she had during her training, Marcy went into a semi-trance and became a sex machine, licking and sucking the delectable woman flesh with the certainty emblazoned in her brain that she could not stop until the final solution was forthcoming – in this case, a satisfying sexual explosion.
"I think maybe – oh Marcy, I feel so fuunnny! Never felt like this before. There's a fire inside me… it's spreading all through me… put it out, Marcy, put it out!" Mrs. Price was flopping around, all dignity forgotten, her corseted body going through unbelievable contortions.
"You're almost there!" Marcy shouted in triumph, plunging her tongue deep into the channel in front while her little finger stabbed unexpectedly into the rear one.
Mrs. Price let out a howl that must have echoed through the whole building. No female cat in heat impaled by a male on the back fence ever shrieked any louder than this elegant club woman, as she broke through the last barrier and experienced her first orgasm.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she sobbed as she gushed into Marcy's mouth, and the girl lapped at the proof of her skill, proud and happy.
Later, when the three of them lay on the wide couch, Marcy between the husband and wife, Mrs. Price tried to express her gratitude again.
"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't forced me into that, Marcy darling. I was already dead from the waist down, and I was dying from the waist up."
"You can say that again," Rodney agreed, busy running his hands over the smooth young flesh of Marcy's thighs and belly.
"Don't put her down, Pricie," Marcy chided. "It was as much your fault as hers."
"It was more his fault. Mr. Thirty Second Special! Spread thighs, open cunt, insert prick, three quick jabs, and spurt! Wham, bang, thank you, ma'am! Was that ever a nothing!"
"There won't be any more of that, will there, Rodney?" Marcy asked. "From now on, you're going to make love to Agatha just like you do to me, aren't you?"
"It doesn't matter, as long as you're here to make love to both of us," Mrs. Price said.
"But I can't always be with you, darling," Marcy said. "I have to get back to Dr. Villiers at the laboratory, and there are a couple of other little tasks in the office I have to finish first."
"Oh, Marcy, don't go away! What will we do without you?" Price said.
"Oh, I'll be back, don't worry. I may even take my old job back, just as soon as I finish my assignments and take care of buying Jimmy's freedom."
"Forget it," Price said quickly. "I'll intervene personally and see that the case is dropped. Any boy with a sister like you can't be all bad."
"No, no, I don't want you to do that! I have to earn that money from Dr. Villiers," Marcy said. She couldn't tell them, but that twenty thousand dollars was her justification for all the fun she was having. If she didn't have a good reason like that, her old puritanical self might rise up and say, "Cool it, Marcy. No more fun and games." And she couldn't stand that!
Why, she had been almost as bad off as Mrs. Price. If Jimmy hadn't gotten into trouble, Marcy McCall might still be sitting at her desk with her thighs tightly clamped together and a No Trespassing sign on her virginal cunt. The old Marcy had lived a miserable, deprived, barren life. This new Marcy knew what real living was, and her thighs were always open, her cunt always wet and ready to receive any cock or tongue that was pushed into it.
No, she wasn't ready to give up this Marcy, and so she had to earn the money Dr. Villiers' way.
"Why won't you let us take care of you, Marcy?" Mrs. Price whispered. "We have more money than we know what to do with. Come live with us and turn our cold marriage into a delightful warm and lovely paradise."
"That sounds like a groovy idea," Marcy giggled, unhooking the front of the woman's corselet. There was really no reason why Mrs. Price had to keep herself all trussed up when it was so much more enjoyable to be naked and free to use any part of your body for sex. "Could I be your little girl? And you be my Daddy and Mommy?"
"Well, I…" Mrs. Price exchanged an embarrassed glance with her husband. "That wasn't exactly the relationship I had in mind."
Marcy was struggling with the slip and the opened corset, trying to get them both off at once. The sight of the opulent breasts had stirred her imagination and made her mouth water.
"Got to get this old thing off," she muttered. "I want to such your titties, Mommy. I want to nurse at my mother's breasts."
"Marcy, dear, I'm not your mother!" Mrs. Price said. "I'd much rather you referred to me as your lover, if such terms of reference are necessary."
Marcy paid no attention. "Maybe you could adopt me," she suggested, consumed by her sexual fantasy and wanting to indulge it to the limit.
Fumbling with childish clumsiness, she pulled at the loosened undergarments. "Want to suck my mama's titties. Gotta get those big old nipples in my baby mouth and draw out the sweet, warm milk."
"Marcy! Please, you're embarrassing us!" Mr. Price said.
Marcy ignored him. She had unearthed another segment of her unfolding sexuality, and it intrigued her to the exclusion of anything else at the moment. Her incestuous feelings had apparently begun with her father and mother. Golly, was that ever far out! Dr. Villiers was really going to flip when she told him that.
She struggled with the slip and corset again, and this time succeeded in getting them off. Now the woman lay there nude, except for the pink panties and long stockings. Marcy's eyes explored her body eagerly. Mrs. Price had taken good care of her body, or had hired competent people to take good care of it for her. The flesh was firm and creamy, and Marcy didn't try to resist its lure. She bent her head to the full breasts and drew a big brown nipple into her mouth.