"Jeez, woman! You sure can get off!" Jim grunted. The lusty capacities of the young redhead never ceased to amaze him. Jim had been married once, to a woman who never had an orgasm. He had begun to wonder if real flesh-and-blood women really existed, until he met Wanda. He gripped her hair tightly and guided her movements over his prick while her body shuddered out its orgasm. He didn't want to take any chances on Wanda slowing down on him so early in the game.
But there seemed little danger of that. The redhead was soon undulating her hips back at the dog's jerking loins with abandon. She moaned throatily around the man's cock while her cunt-muscles clenched greedily at Nugget's tirelessly skewering cock. Each time the dog dealt her a stroke that was particularly intoxicating, she passed it on to the man by stabbing his prick with hot little probes of her tongue. Saliva flowed freely around Jim's embedded cock-shaft. The man could imagine her cunt just as dripping wet… making the dog's cock-shaft gleam obscenely in the afternoon light. He pulled cruelly on her thick mop of red hair as his excitement mounted.
"Come on, Wanda! Suck it! Suck it as good as Nugget fucks your pussy! Thatta girl!"
The utter depravity of the situation made the redhead shiver with debased arousal. She worked feverishly over Jim's cock, bobbing her head up and down with abandoned haste. Her tongue darted out and licked his sensitive member unexpectedly, making him grunt appreciatively. Her lips nibbled at his fleshy staff with the quick nervous energy of a butterfly's wings. When she sucked hard on the whole stiff length of his cock, Jim thought he would pass out from pleasure.
While he struggled with the mounting pleasure in his groin, the old prospector watched the woman's asscheeks lunge back at his dog's hairy loins. The contrast of white skin and dark animal fur titillated him. The woman's abandoned movements thrilled him more. Little by little, Jim knew, he was crossing the point of no return. His hands began to guide her head more fervently up and down over his cock-shaft. Just a little bit more was all he needed.
Relishing her own debasement, Wanda squirmed between her two lovers. Her cunt flared hungrily to receive the tireless pummeling of the dog's swollen organ. Her mouth worked with lusty inspiration to suck the man's puck to orgasmic ecstasy. She wriggled her ass-cheeks fiendishly, striving harder and harder, until at last there came the hot pungent flow into her mouth.
"Uuuuuuhh, Christ! I'm cumming, Wanda!" A crazy little grin pasted itself on Jim's features as he held the woman's face fast against his loins. He reveled in the thought that she was being forced to swallow every last drop of his semen. Her head bobbing furiously to lap up his juices gave him his last lusty input before he relaxed back in his chair, exhausted.
She had just swallowed the last of the man's sperm when she felt a second geyser erupting in her pussy. Nugget was filling her cunt with hot animal cum. The very idea of being stuffed from both ends with her lovers' orgasmic juices made Wanda let go a second time.
"Uuuuuhh! Shit! He's cumming in me! Aaaaiiieeeee! Me too! Me too!"
She collapsed onto the floor as the dog pulled his flaccid cock from her pussy and went over to sit next to his master. She accepted a drink gratefully when Jim brought it to her. "You've outdone yourself again, Wanda honey!" He held up his glass in a toast.
Wanda smiled weakly. She threw back her head and downed her bourbon in one refreshing swallow. "Never let it be said that Wanda Wilde gives anything less than her best!"
The unlikely companions settled down to finish off the bottle.
Wanda gazed out the hotel window, thinking about the gold the old prospector would give her for her fine performance.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ellie was filled with misgivings as they drove up to the site that was to be home for her and Hank while he worked Greg's gold claim. The vegetation all around was something between field and forest… low dense bushes and long shaggy grass that made walking difficult. Ellie's first impression was of being led into a natural prison. Nothing… for miles around. What was she going to do with herself?
She did her best to hide her feelings from her husband. She had never seen Hank this excited, and she didn't want to spoil his enthusiasm.
"Boy, isn't it great to be away from all the noise and bustle, honey?"
"Mmm, yes, it sure is."
"You're awfully quiet, Ellie. Anything the matter?"
"No. Everything's fine. I'm just tired. It's been a long drive."
"Yeah, it has. But what's a long drive when you've got paradise waiting for you on the other end?"
It was a long way from Ellie's idea of paradise, but she nodded enthusiastically. They stopped in the middle of the dirt road while Hank read a regional map. "The stream should be just a short ways ahead. So should Greg. I can hardly wait for you to meet him, honey."
That was something that Ellie was curious about. What would this Greg Bantam be like? Hank worshipped him, it seemed, and Hank didn't look up to many men.
They came upon two trailers nestled under some small trees. A pick-up truck was parked next to the smaller of the two. A tall, powerful-looking man with reddish-brown hair emerged from the small trailer and waved.
"Hey, honey! It's him! It's Greg!" Hank pulled his station wagon up next to the pick-up and rushed out to embrace his friend. Feeling somewhat neglected, Ellie followed. She stood awkwardly behind the men while they exchanged hearty greetings. At length, Hank grabbed her arm and pulled her up next to him. "Greg, I want you to meet my wife. Ellie, this is Greg!"
They were standing close together, the three of them uncomfortably close for Ellie. The big man's face smiled but his clear blue eyes never changed expression. They assessed her coldly, seeming to try to penetrate to her very soul.
"Hi, Greg," she said in what seemed to her a false voice. She was strained, and she knew it showed. For one thing, she had never expected Greg Bantam to be so incredibly good-looking. His face was strong, with evenly cut, forceful features. His red-brown hair was thick and curly. It fell over his forehead, trying to give him a boyish look which only the cold eyes contradicted. He was a good four or five inches taller than her husband. In his lumberjack shirt and tight jeans, he looked lean and powerful like something right out of a cigarette commercial.
"Hi, Ellie. I've heard a lot about you. You're every bit as pretty as your old man said you were."
Does he really think I'm pretty, Ellie thought. She felt tingles running up and down her spine. Ashamed of her disloyal excitement, she forced herself to ignore Greg and look at her husband. Hank, too, was a good-looking man. The difference, Ellie realized now, was in the eyes. Greg looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and how to get it. There was a touch of ruthlessness in his bearing. Hank, on the other hand, looked like a nice easygoing guy who wouldn't hurt a fly. She felt a surge of affection for her husband. He looked so happy.
The men were already engrossed in talk about the claim. "Why don't I take you down for a look at the dredge and our diving equipment? You'll get a better idea of what I'm talking about." Greg's manner was eager, but businesslike. He was already taking charge. He turned to Ellie. "I already stocked your trailer there with some supplies. How would you like to rustle us up some grub while we're gone?"
Ellie did not like being relegated to the kitchen the moment she arrived. What bothered her more was that it didn't even occur to her own husband that she might like to go along. She watched the two retreating figures. Her whole body trembled with hurt and anger. With furious relish, she contemplated serving them arsenic pie on their return.