Shelton moaned as he felt his own unbearable climax beginning deep within him. No amount of flexing ass muscles would keep this one away, he thought, and abruptly gave himself in to the exquisite sensations. He hammered in and out as though he were a runaway pile driver, and then he felt the scalding heat as her vaginal walls began to seep the elixir that was the precursor to her climax. Beneath him, the woman’s eyes suddenly widened in disbelief and her breath caught in her throat. “I’m cumming,” she shouted, “I’m cumming… Oh, God… I’m… I’m cumming… Yes… Yes? Now… NOW… Aiiiiiieeeeeeeee.” Her body twisted beneath him and then she was thrashing around, convulsing crazily with her mouth and cunt both sucking at him, while her vagina squirted its own white hot lava around the impaling shaft.
Shelton fucked her as if she would be the last fuck ever! He pounded into her, pinning the thrashing body to the mattress, his breath coming in short hot gasps. The bitch continued to cum… she wouldn’t stop. Her orgasm had been going on for at least a minute and still she thrashed and screamed. He dug deeper into the quivering slit between her widespread legs, stretching it even wider. Then he was cumming! He felt the tortured pressure within his scrotum suddenly blow up and, like waters from a collapsing dam, his seminal juices and cum roared down the subterranean tunnel of his cock to explode like a ball of fire deep up into the estuaries of her wildly heaving belly. He fell forward against her breasts with an incredible feeling of delight and sensuality sweeping over him in a seismic wave of all consuming pleasure.
Sylvia felt the boiling white sperm pumping into her, and she worked vaginal muscles she had never known existed before to milk his penis in a desperate effort to consume every bit of every spurt. Her own orgasms were fading now, but her belly muscles still rippled and jumped from the unaccustomed delight and exertion.
She felt his maledom deflating inside her. God! it was like something slowly dying, something that had once been so terribly alive. It continued to twitch, but more slowly… until, finally, it lay quiescent. Then, after about a minute, he pulled it out. She heard the soft plopping sound when it was removed… almost like a cork coming from a flat bottle of champagne.
Sylvia felt him lie down alongside her. She hoped he wouldn’t say anything. She needed time to think. She heard him swallow; his spittle sounded like dry sandpaper sliding down his throat. Sylvia knew that within the last hour she had discovered a wanton streak in herself She had never realized that sex could be so wonderful. And that was Bruce’s fault! Goddamn him… the dirty son of a bitch. She had wasted twelve years of her life on him… twelve long dry years in which he had led her to believe that she was a “frigid neurotic female incapable of feeling anything for anyone.” And all that time, Bruce had been sleeping with everything and everyone that wore a skirt. Twelve years! Well, she would show him. Oh, how she would show him! He’d pay for those twelve years, and it would seem like he was paying one day at a time.
Shelton’s breath still hadn’t returned to normal when he felt the woman turn over to face him. Her eyes were unfathomable; he thought she looked pretty angry about something though.
Sylvia said, “Is your camera focused for the next photograph, the fellatio one?”
Wearily, the detective nodded, and blindly reached out of the remote cable.
“Will the picture show it when… when… you cum in my mouth?”
Shelton felt a jolt go through his half-awakened body. He nodded once more. “It might take awhile, though, for me to build up strength again.”
Sylvia wanted to get the thing over with as soon as possible. “What’s the fastest way to build you up again?” she asked.
Shelton grinned broadly. “Just suck; it will do the rest.” He watched, fascinated, as the woman lowered her head down and her golden hair fell across his stomach and her warm lips ovalled and then dropping fastened uncertainly around the head of his cock. She was inexperienced, but instinct told her what to do. The soft warm suction began and, within seconds, the miracle of resurrection had occurred.
CHAPTER TWO
Shelton had been too weary that night to develop the film; as a result, it was after two o’clock the next afternoon before he withdrew the negatives from the soup and examined them in light. As he looked at the developed film, his prick stirred to life again. Of them all, probably the best of the batch was the one where she was blowing him, he thought.
He didn’t even remember taking the picture, so lost had he been in the overpowering sensation of her lips and tongue working on his cock. The photograph showed him with his straining buttocks lifted at least a foot off the bed as he seemingly sought to jam the spurting cock deeper into her eager throat. Shining white cum squirted from between her pooched out lips. The woman’s expression was the most surprising thing about the picture. On her face was a look of sheer, unadulterated exaltation… as though she had accidentally stumbled upon the legendary Fountain of Youth.
Shelton thoughtfully hung the negatives up to dry and went back into his office where he sat, feet propped up on the desk, staring out the window and seeing nothing. For a moment yesterday afternoon, he had entered paradise. A beautiful, seemingly untouchable woman. The world of softness. An expensive velvet comforter hiding satin sheets atop a king-sized bed… not a threadbare and grease-spotted corduroy cover hiding the sagging springs of his own pathetic pull-down Murphy bed. Once again he felt her body thrashing beneath him, screaming out obscenities that were never truly “obscene” coming from the throat of a woman in a fit passion. Once again he tasted the rare elixir of her vagina. Once again he felt his tongue trembling at the threshold of her anus. He groaned deep in his throat and was abruptly angry at the realization he was actually feeling sorry for himself “You stupid son of a bitch,” he snarled aloud, castigating himself “So you got to fuck a rich man’s wife. Does that spoil screwing poor women for you? Isn’t one cunt just as good as another?” Even as he said the words, he already knew the answer to the questions: Yes, she had spoiled everything. Her money had nothing to do with it; she could be in debt up to that wonderful ass of hers, and it wouldn’t make any difference. He’d had her; and as obviously inexperienced as she was, no other broad could ever be the same again for him. Angrily, he fished for a cigarette and then cursed as he found the package was empty. He threw the pack at a waste basket and shook his head mournfully as it hit the rim and bounced When the phone jangled at
that moment, he almost ripped the cord from the receiver when he yanked it up and growled, “Yeh?”
Her voice came over the line. “Mister Shelton?”
He took a deep breath and tried to sound civilized. “Yes, Mrs. Akron.”
She didn’t waste any time in getting to the point. “How did the photographs turn out?” He could sense her embarrassment over the phone.
For a split second he thought about telling her the film had been ruined and that they would have to do it over again. Then he realized she wouldn’t buy that and, besides, it would be a reflection of inefficiency on his part. “They’re O.K.,” he said non-committally.
He heard the sound of her swallow over the phone and then her voice was brisk and businesslike. “Good. Are you willing to continue working with me?”
“More photographs,” he wisecracked and almost blew the whole deal right there.
The heat of her anger came through the miles of wire. “Don’t be smart, Mister Shelton.”
“Sorry.”
“All right. Here’s what I want you to do.
First: I need to get in touch with at least three different… ah ‘wife-swapping’ organizations. I want to know the name of each of the club’s leaders. It would be better, I believe, if they were from another part of the state. They must be high-class people, however, No tramps! And… one of them has to be an all-Negro, or mainly Negro, club. Is that understood?”