He licked again at the rosy little bud of her clitoris, swirling his tongue around and around it, withdrawing briefly to snake it deep into the warm narrow walls of her cuntal channel. Her moans were music to his ears, her wails an inspiration.
And then he felt her tense again, fluttering for a moment on the edge of her ecstasy. Her hands shot out, her fingers entwining his hair as she pulled his head deeper and deeper into her own nakedly quivering
loins. And then at last.her moment came and she cried out, unbelieving, "Oh, my God! I'm cumming… I'm cumming…"
Her body contracted in another convulsive spasm and then another as the full ecstasy of her climax took possession of her. An enormous shudder shook her lovely body, a ripple ran through her that was almost visible. She quaked beneath John, caught up in her own wild abandon in an instant that went beyond time.
Satiated at last, she fell back against the bed, her voluptuous body relaxed now, drained and exhausted. A sense of the most complete fulfillment she had ever known engulfed her and she closed her eyes, still breathing heavily. At last she slid off into a sleep of deep contentment while John Whitmore slithered up her body, flicking his tongue out one final time, but now to lave the small buds of her nipples…
CHAPTER FOUR
There were moments when a deep sense of shame filled Kelly Brown's troubled mind. Not only, she knew, because of what she had done, what she had permitted John to do to her. Oh, dear God! He had fucked her as if she were no more than a common whore! But far worse was the fact that she had enjoyed being fucked in that obscene way, had been close to ecstasy as his tongue had lashed out to worm deep up into her moistly throbbing cuntal passage.
Kelly shuddered for the past, but she dreaded the future. They would all four meet again, there was no question about that. And then what would happen? Would John fuck her again in the same shocking manner? Or would he demand an ever greater submission on her part? And if he did…?
She hardly dared to think of what would happen next. In a sudden flash she realized how naive she was, how innocent in spite of all the knowledge she had gleaned from the reading of innumerable books. Oh, dear God! She was little more than a babe in the woods when it came to matters of the relationships between men and women, when it came to sex. Sometimes she railed against her strict and puritanical upbringing, against the hypocrisy of her well-bred family. Dear God! Her mother had taught her that people of their type were not interested in sex, making everything connected with it seem somehow unclean. In spite of the older woman's constantly reiterated admonitions… "We have better things to think of..
." Kelly had frequently let her mind wander to the desires, the needs of her own body.
She had even, from time to time, let her hands wander across her softly trembling flesh, seeking out the little triangular zone of pleasure there between her legs at the base of her belly. She had stroked the small bud of her clitoris into a taut erection, ashamed-oh, so ashamed-of what she was doing, yet unable to stop!
She had an eerie sense that the same thing was happening again, that her own personal history was repeating itself. She couldn't stop! She would let John do anything he wanted, would welcome it, accepting it because she was powerless to resist! There were times when she contemplated in horror the depths to which it seemed she had fallen, other times when she resolutely made up her mind to end the affair. But she didn't want to… she really didn't want to.
She compared her husband to John, time after time. She thought of the ecstasy when the former had ravished her so obscenely, thought of her horror when she had been forced to suck greedily at Tom's thick and rigid cock.
Would John ever ask her to suck at his? She shook her head, wondering, trying to assure herself that she would never, never agree to degrade herself to the point of doing so. And yet, she thought with another shudder of horror, she was weak and being weak, she would be willing.
There were times when she thought she would go out of her mind if she had to see the Whitmores again, repeat her own depraved performance. But there were other times when she was just as certain she would go out of her mind if she didn't meet them once more.
Preoccupied as she was, she became listless and lost her appetite. Her nerves seemed frayed as an old lamp cord, and she was startled by the slightest sound, the least commotion. In spite of her fears, her premonitions of imminent disaster, she found herself waiting for the telephone to ring, hoping against hope that it would be either John or Penny, asking to arrange another evening like the last they had spent together.
When it turned out to be someone else, Tom calling to say that he would be late for dinner or her friend Cynthia calling to suggest lunch and an afternoon of shopping, she felt a terrible let-down after the surge of excitement that had first welled up in her.
Kelly was sitting in the living room with Tom one night after dinner, idly turning the pages of a book she had bought only that afternoon while her husband leafed through the latest issue of his favorite girly magazine when the telephone rang. Kelly sat bolt upright, then started to her feet to answer, but Tom was already on his way to the hall to pick up the instrument. His voice floated back to her, cautious at first as he said,
"Hello," and then becoming animated. "Sure," he was saying. "Sure. You bet we would. As a matter of fact, I've been hoping you would call."
There was a pause as he listened to the voice at the other end of the line and Kelly called out, "Who is it, Tom?"
"John Whitmore, honey," he called back and Kelly's heart plummeted. Oh, God! He'd called after all! She knew then how devoutly she had wanted him to, and knew at the same time a moment of complete and utter despair. He shouldn't have, she thought bitterly. He shouldn't have!
But John had called, and Kelly knew it would only be a matter of time before she would give herself up to the enjoyment of whatever depravity he wished to subject her to. Oh, God! He would fuck her just the way he had before, she thought, and the memory set off a delightful tingling there between her legs again! She pressed them together, trying desperately to suppress the unwanted pleasure, but it was useless. She remembered then the sight of John's huge thick cock jutting from his loins, thought of the way it had hovered ever so briefly above her own open and welcoming pussy. An unexpected, unwanted tremor of joy coursed through her limbs and then with a tremendous effort she calmed her trembling body.
"We doing anything Friday?" Tom called from the hall.
"I… I… don't know," she stammered, knowing what would come next, desiring it and dreading it at the same time. "I don't know."
"Look and see, will you?"
Kelly got up and found the small calendar on which she wrote down the dates she made. With a sinking feeling, Kelly saw that the calendar was blank. She stared at it, momentarily mute, then was prodded into answering by Tom's insistent voice. "Did you look, Kelly? What have we got?"
"Nothing," she managed to murmur. "Nothing, Tom."
"What?" he asked again. "I can't hear you, Kelly. Have we got anything planned for Friday?"
"No," she said at last, shaking her head as if he could see her. "No. We haven't got anything planned."
''Great!'' It was an explosion of scarcely-concealed pleasure from Tom. And then he added, "Well, we have now, so write it down, will
you?"
Write what down? Kelly thought resentfully. What? He hadn't told her yet. But he would, she knew. He would. She heard her husband speaking into the telephone again, heard him saying, "Sure thing, John. You bet. Wouldn't miss it for anything. Not after the show your better half put on for me. Jesus Christ! She's a great little number when you get her in the sack. But I guess I don't have to tell you that, do I?"