"Oh, you will, darling," Lydia gasped. "We both will… just as long as the pills hold out!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The days grew into weeks and the weeks into months. At first, Angela insisted that Barry put her into the act. But he would only give her a handful of pills and shove his dick into her, with a gruff, "Later, baby."
"Later" never came, and Angela eventually resigned herself to it. Through Lydia she found out her real function.
"And we're the pussy?"
"That's right," Lydia answered. "And then there's the occasional V.I.P. visitor, a director or producer, who likes a little orgy action or some swinging private entertainment."
"And we provide it?" Angela gasped.
"But, Lydia, what's going to happen to us?"
"Who knows? I guess we'll last just as long as our looks and the pills hold out," the redhead replied.
Angela just nodded and dropped another handful of pills.
She stopped counting the number of cocks she sucked and fucked, and gave up trying to remember where or how she did it.
Now and then she thought of Dom, and what it would be like to be someone's wife again – even an asshole like Dom's wife.
Then the tour was over and the whole entourage headed back to Hollywood. Barry had decided that he was going to try again for a movie career.
The band broke up, and Barry rented a big Beverly Hills house. The orgies stopped and he suddenly started being kind to Lydia and Angela.
He bought them both beautiful new wardrobes and installed them in their own apartment in the house.
Angela thought everything was going to change. They were going to live a little more like normal people.
"Don't kid yourself, honey," Lydia told her. "We're just being primed for the big one, that's all!"
A few nights later, Angela found out what she meant.
She'd been off the dope and pills for nearly a month. Her head was starting to come back to reality. Then Barry announced a dinner party for Ritchie Verrain.
"Who's Ritchie Verrain?" Angela asked Barry.
"A producer, baby, one of the biggest. And ol' Barry is gonna star in his next picture. That is, if you and Lydia do your job well!"
The afternoon of the dinner party, Angela was handed some pills. She refused to take them, but Barry used a strap on her until she agreed. When both she and Lydia were good and high, Barry explained, in detail, Ritchie Verrain's problem. Verrain loved getting a little pussy on the side, but he was deathly afraid of his wife. She held all the purse strings, and if she ever caught Ritchie fucking around, he was in big trouble.
Lydia and Angela would seduce him, by force if necessary, and Barry would make a movie of it. Ritchie would come across with the role for Barry, or there wouldn't even be a movie.
It all sounded silly to Angela, and she told herself she wouldn't do it. But, by the time dinner was over, she felt the old excitement coming over her.
They adjourned to the upstairs of the house, to the room that Barry called the "play room". Before long, Barry disappeared, leaving Angela and Lydia alone with Ritchie Verrain.
Angela found herself looking forward to the nights activities as she casually studied Ritchie Verrain, their "victim". The handsome young producer held a certain attractiveness far Angela that she couldn't understand. She'd been more than surprised when he'd come right out and told her that she should be in films herself.
This Ritchie was a handsome man, all right six-feet, broad shouldered, dark, longish hair, warm hazel eyes. But definitely weird. Angela could tell.
She caught the nod from Lydia. In a daze, she stood and moved across the room. She tugged Ritchie to his feet and moved close into him.
"Hey, what are you doing?" be asked surprise.
"You'll see!" Angela said, sliding his hands around her waist and gently drawing him to her. She could hear his rapid breathing, then felt the rising bulge of his dick as he pressed it against her pelvis and thighs. A tiny ripple of excitement raced through her pussy as his lips closed over hers and his hands moved beneath her gown.
Then he suddenly tried to pull away from her. "I really shouldn't be doing this!" he gasped.
"Oh, but I like it!" Angela cooed. "Do it some more!"
Ritchie was obviously trying to hold his passion in check, but he was finding it harder and harder with his hand on Angela's bare flesh.
His warm hand was moving around caressingly to cup the full and naked firmness of her erect tits. He mumbled something in a choking whisper, then his tongue burst into her receptive mouth while his hot hand clutched and stroked her big tit excitedly, tweaking and rolling the hardened nipple while she gently rubbed her soft belly and cunt against his ballooning cock.
"Jesus," he gasped, raising his head finally to catch his breath, while Angela relentlessly ground her luscious pussy against him. He hadn't expected anything like this. He had to get her out of there, to some place where he could fuck her. "Come on, baby, I can't take much of this or I'll fuck you right here!"
"Would you? Really?" Angela husked warmly into his face, her eyes slightly glazed with her own mounting passion. "That sounds wonderful!" She slipped her hand down between them to gently grasp his long, thick dick through his trousers and slowly begin massaging it. "Ohhhh, Ritchie, it feels so hard and big and long! I-I think I'm going to love it!"
Verrain couldn't believe it. Damn, he had to get her some place and get at her pussy. But out of here, not in that asshole Golden's house. Fucking her right here would be like asking for trouble. And where was that other broad, Lydia? She hid disappeared. He'd love to dick her, too. Maybe he could get Angela out of there before Lydia came back. And where was Barry Golden? The whole thing was weird.
He eased Angela from him and took her hand. "Come on, we're going somewhere and quick, before I come right in my pants!"
"No, no, lover," Angela breathed. "Let's do it right here!"
"Here? Christ, no!"
"C'mon, Ritchie, honey! I'm really hot for your cock!" She pushed him down until he was lying on the floor. "It's cozy here, Ritchie, honey!"
She moved over him until she was standing right over his face. Ritchie could see right up her skirt and along those beautiful, white, full thighs. For God's sake, she didn't have any panties on! He could see her pussy as well as he could see her face. Oh shit! His dick was jerking hard all over again and she was smiling down at him. Then he watched her step out of her shoe and her small, pink-soled foot moved between his legs to massage his prick slowly up and down.
"Your dick's hard, isn't it, Ritchie?" Angela teased. "Doesn't your wife fuck it enough for you, sweetie?"
"For God's sake, listen, please! What are you trying to do to me?"
"Fuck you, honey," Angela answered, still smiling softly and continuing to tease his cock with her foot.
"Look, let's go somewhere… oh shit." He gasped as he saw Lydia walk into the room and stand behind Angela. She was stark naked. Oh shit, shit, shit, he thought… two of them!
Angela spread her legs open farther so that their "victim" could better see her wet, trembling cunt. "You like what you see, Ritchie, sweetie?"
Ritchie couldn't answer. His brain was a turmoil of mixed emotions. There was no doubt that he wanted to fuck the brains out of this little fox but what if his wife found out? Fear, dread, and mounting desire were making his mind reel. Angela was taunting his cock with her foot while he stared up the long, white columns of her thighs to the pink slit of her pouting cunt. She swayed her hips teasingly, the smooth crevice between her magnificent asscheeks driving him crazy with lust.
"Would you like to suck my pussy, Ritchie? I think I'd love to have you do that!"
"Jesus, I don't get it," he groaned, trying to get his mind back on an even keel. "What the hell are you two trying to do?"