"Wait! Wait!" said Hill. He moved across the room in our direction. His hand was finally away from his prick, and it stood away from his body like a rigid finger poking from his belly. His crotch was almost hairless.
I twisted my head to see what he was doing. He stood before his wife and wriggled his erection in her face. She bent forward and placed him between her lips. I could feel her weight shifting, pulling inside, moving against my cock. As she bent her head to suck him, beyond her, I could see the screen. In the film she was fucking with Bevins as she was fucking with me: straddled across his lap with his cock somehow buried up to the hilt. The only difference was that Hill was not in the film. He was here, in reality.
Yvonne stretched her legs, straining towards the floor with her toes. I could feel her cunt pull upward, tightening as she moved. Once she touched the floor, she began to push herself up and down on my organ, fucking herself with me.
I watched between her legs as the organ slid in and out of her body. The lips of her cunt clung to the sides of the shaft, sliding wetly up and down.
I could feel myself begin to cum. I pushed up into her violently, shoving my cock into the depths of her belly. My balls shattered, and I felt my cum spewing hotly into the cavern of her cunt. My legs trembled with the effort.
Yvonne pulled her mouth away from her husband's organ.
"He's cuming!" she screamed.
Hill moaned and grabbed his cock with both his hands, holding it at the base. He thrust his hips upward and arched his back. He began to cum. His sperm splashed outward, flying through the air and smacked wetly against her face. It dribbled down her cheeks in milky white rivers.
Yvonne screwed herself down upon my cuming cock. She placed both her hands on my stomach, and she leaned backwards towards me. I watched the sperm run down her cheeks, across her lips and into her open mouth.
Hill continued to cum. He aimed his prick at his wife's open mouth and tried to deposit his sperm down her throat.
I felt her shudder once, convulsively. Her cunt tightened around my cock, like a vise around a piece of soft wood. The ring of her cunt puckered, and I could feel her thighs trembling. I knew she was cuming.
Hill screamed once, and fell forward against his wife. She slumped with his weight, pushing me backward into the couch, crushing me under both of them. Their bodies were slick with perspiration and they reeked of sexuality. My organ was still buried deeply in her cunt.
It was over.
I pushed Hill over to the side, and he slumped against the couch. His legs were open, and his cock had wilted. It lay across his thigh like a broken piece of wet flesh. Yvonne was still on top of me, but she was to the side, resting on my shoulder and the back of the couch.
Beyond her head, through the twisted web of her hair, I could see the screen. The film was still running. The scene was a shot of Yvonne's crotch. The camera moved in closer, and it seemed to freeze on that image.
Then I saw why.
From between her cunt lips, oozing down the thick shaft of his cock I could see a thick, moving white substance. His cum. The final orgasm for the five of us.
The camera remained fixed upon the crotch as more and more of the white fluid stained the man's balls. Then the image jumped once or twice and was gone.
The film was over.
CHAPTER TWO
The telephone was ringing somewhere in the back of my mind, and I could feel myself groping towards consciousness. My eyes opened and I looked about my room still slightly confused. I remembered last night with Yvonne Hill and her husband. Then I remembered that I had left there and returned to my own apartment.
I sat up, sleep half-blinding my eyes and numbing my awareness. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretched and walked over to the telephone. Naturally, by the time I got there, the ringing stopped.
"Hello!" I said into the receiver.
Nothing.
I cursed quietly and turned back towards the bed.
I lay back in the warmth of the sheets and the softness of the pillow, but I knew sleep would not come again. I was like that. No matter what time I went to sleep, I could never get back to sleep after I had been awakened.
I stared up at the ceiling, feeling sleep receding from my brain. I thought again of Yvonne Hill and her obsequious husband Kenneth Hill. Imagine pimping for your wife. Procuring men for her to fuck. Hill must be a sick man.
She was good, though, I told myself. After the first fuck there were three others. In the last, we were all naked, and Hill had his camera and lights out for more home movies. He's quite creative, that man. He got some very good closeups of her sucking my cock and me fucking her.
That part was strange, I thought. Fucking her and having Hill in the background, directing us: "Open your legs a little more. That's it, play with his balls. Push it all the way into her pussy, Allen."
It even felt odd; having someone in between your legs, pressing up against you, lifting your balls so that the camera would have a nice tight shot of his wife's cunt. Or feeling the added heat of the lights on your ass or stomach, and listening to the rattle of the film run through the camera. It was an unusual, novel experience.
He never touched me once, though, I remembered. If he was a queer, he never made any overt attempts to join in with us. It was as though he were content just to watch me making it with his wife. As though watching another man giving her his cock was exciting in itself.
We parted friends, with an open invitation to come and visit again. "Bring your wife the next time!" Yvonne had added. When she said it I assumed it was for Hill, but the more I think about it, I'm sure she wanted Patti for herself. I wonder how that would have turned on Hill? I know the idea turned me on, and I pushed the sight of Patti eating out of Yvonne's cunt from my mind.
The telephone rang again.
I was to the receiver before the first ring had stopped.
"Hello!" I fairly yelled into the receiver.
"Uh… hello," someone said on the other side. It was a man's voice.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"I'm calling about your ad… in Stud…"
"Yes…"
"Are you… Al?"
"Yes."
"And the ad is real!"
"Yes," I said. "It's real. But I specifically said in the ad that it was for women only. Men aren't my thing. Nothing personal, you understand."
"Oh, no!" he said. "I think you're misunderstanding me. I'm not answering the ad for myself… I'm calling for my wife… Michelle."
"Your wife?" I asked. I thought of Kenneth Hill and his wife Yvonne. I remembered how I had answered his ad. Apparently, Hill's perversion wasn't as unique as I had imagined.
"Yes," he confessed. He seemed to be breathing heavily. "I was just checking out the ad for her… to make sure that it was a good ad, you know."
I became suspicious. "Is your wife there now?"
"Uh. No. She's out just now… shopping."
"I see." I did, really. "Why don't you have your wife give me a call when she returns? Okay?"
"Sure, sure," he said. His voice altered. "But before you hang up, just let me ask you a few questions?"
"Go ahead."
"Let me tell you something about Michelle. She's twenty-six, and has short black hair. She weighs about one-twenty, and she's five-five…"
His voice trailed off, and he sounded as though he were spitting his words through half-clenched teeth. I had a feeling I knew what he was doing while we were talking.
"Continue," I told him.
"She has nice tits… and a nice big ass… really big. Good to hold onto when you're fucking her…" My cock began to twitch.
"And her cunt… oh God… she has a wonderful cunt! Black hair… a lot of it… heavy hair. But none between her legs… near her cunt hole. It's bare there… when she opens the large lips you can see right up her cunt…"