Angie moaned at each forward thrust. His penis felt like a rock, pounding into her, brushing her walls with each push and scraping her with each pull.
Brad paid no attention to her exhausted moans. He rode her as hard as he could: beating his penis against her cervix. His buttocks flexed and forcibly pressed his penis straighter and deeper into her vagina. The loud wet sucking sounds emitted when he pulled his cock out spurred him on. He pressed faster and deeper, his body pounding on top of hers. The end of his penis hardened and burned. It strove to fuse with her belly. Brad ground his body down harder and harder between Angie's widespread legs.
Now Angie was groaning continually.
At last his climax came — he could feel the ejaculate coming. His body contracted regularly and fast and the exquisite sensations as the ejaculate spurted into her. His mind whirled in the sensation; it encompassed his whole body, and then it melted away.
Brad rolled off Angie's body and flopped limply on the bed beside her. After he had recovered somewhat he was surprised to see Doug dressed, sitting on a chair, observing him.
"Giving up?" Brad taunted.
"Yes," Doug said firmly, "and you are, too."
Brad turned his head to look at Angie. She was lying inert beside him, her body still spread-eagled open, ready for intercourse. "Well, she's not much good now anyway. Didn't help at all the last time," he complained.
"Get up and get dressed," Doug said. "We'll go."
While Brad dressed, Doug went over to help Angie. He straightened her exhausted body and maneuvered it underneath the blankets. He got a washcloth and a glass of water from the bathroom. Gently, he wiped her face and held her head up to force a little water into her mouth.
"Are you ready, nurse?" Brad asked impatiently.
Doug disappeared into the bathroom and put the washcloth and glass back. "Coming," he said.
Brad took one last greedy look at Angie, lying on the bed. "Get plenty of rest, baby," he said with a snicker. "I'll be back with more ammunition. We'll have a fucking good time."
CHAPTER FOUR
Doug couldn't put the degrading sight of Angie out of his mind. He tried and tried but the sight of her lying on the bed, head thrown back, legs parted and pulled back unnaturally, and pelvis pushed up with the bright red swollen lips hooded over her gaping vagina haunted his mind in psychedelic colors. No matter what he did — read his lessons, measured chemical ingredients for an experiment, or repaired the lawn mower — that obscene vision of her would come back and fill his mind, cutting off his logical thoughts. What bothered him even more was that when he thought of her that way his penis swelled and burned. He would find himself remembering the exquisite sensation of her hot pussy caressing his engorged penis. He felt confused. Not in his wildest imagination had he ever imagined that their harmless experiment would end that way. Unable to work, he wandered around his home, pale, shaken, forlorn.
His mother noticed his condition right away. "Due you feel ill, dear?" she asked anxiously.
"No," Doug said crossly.
"Then something's troubling you."
"No!" Doug said violently.
His mother felt hurt. They had always been close in the past, sharing thoughts and secrets. She knew something was bothering him. Why wouldn't he tell her?
She tried another tact. "Don't you have anything to do? You're pacing up and down like a wild beast."
"No," Doug said gloomily.
"What happened to the research project you were working on?" she asked, too casually.
Doug didn't notice her tone. "I gave it up," he said listlessly.
Immediately his mother's sixth sense buzzed her alarm. Things must be even worse than she'd imagined. "Gave it up?" she asked worriedly. "That's not like you."
Only then did Doug notice her reaction and realize how he'd revealed himself to her. "Oh," he said hurriedly, "it was just a small project. Of no real consequence."
His mother studied his face slowly. If the project was of no consequence, then what was? She decided to talk the situation over with B.C. at the first opportunity.
Doug turned on the TV and pretended to watch it. His mother sat quietly, industriously working at her needlepoint and watching Doug. She was thankful when she heard the car drive into the garage. Soon her husband stepped into the rumpus room.
"Home early, B.C.? How was the lecture?"
Mr. Fleming bent over and lightly kissed her cheek. "Just what you'd expect of old Buckner. All theory and no fact."
"If he'd change at his time of life, he'd be a God, not a scientist."
"He's already a God by definition," Mr. Fleming said jocularly. "Only a God performs miracles and he performed one tonight. He seemed to have most of the audience believing him, especially the graduate students."
Husband and wife laughed together.
"You must be tired, dear," Mrs. Fleming said. "Would you like some tea?"
Mr. Fleming heaved a deep sigh and relaxed in his chair. "You're reading my mind."
"Would you like some, Doug?" his mother asked.
"No, thanks, Mom."
Out of the corner of his eye, Doug watched his parents act out their little ritual. Coming-home-from-a-late-lecture was a routine they acted out at least twice a month. The moves were always the same. He analyzed their conversation and their actions. His mother sharing her husband's interests, anticipating his needs; both of them sharing "in" jokes and touching each other. That must be the stable kind of love — having respect and consideration for the other person. If you felt that way about a person, then the physical love was an added attraction.
Reviewing the past two weeks with Angie at school was painful. How comforting it was to have her lying near him in the quadrangle. The sun shining on a blowaway strand of her black hair and turning it red. The possessive and protective feeling he'd had when he held her hand in his. The sound of her laughter rang in his memory. How much he'd taken all of these things for granted! Only by losing them did he become aware of their value. Somehow it didn't seem fair. There should be some way that a person could know beforehand. So the person could recognize that he was in love so he could protect the relationship.
Doug sighed deeply. Their sex experiment must stop. That was certain. He'd tell Angie on Monday at school. But how to stop Brad from trying to continue them? Reason meant nothing to him; arguments had no interest for him. Brad didn't love Angie like he did, and after yesterday night, he probably didn't have any respect for her. That left fighting. The only thing that would make an impression on Brad's Neanderthal brain. If he could manage to beat Brad up, he'd probably leave Angie alone.
Doug sighed deeply again. Well, that's what he'd have to try to do. He'd tell Angie on Monday.
The memory of Friday night haunted Angie's mind all weekend. The cruelty and the degradation grew more awful in her mind each succeeding day. She could feel the heavy bodies lying on hers. Hear their mouths panting and gasping in her ears. Feel their hard throbbing cocks slide into her vagina; the bodies begin to pound on top of hers. Then her own blood would begin to race — her heart to pound, breath quicken. Her body would answer theirs — pound rhythmically with them. And then she'd feel the hot, scalding semen spurt into her, spraying her womb. Oh, God. Could she ever forget it? The fear of being found out preyed on her conscience until she began to feel that other people could tell just by looking at her what had happened on Friday night.
She dreaded Monday, when she'd have to go to school. She was sure she couldn't go. When Monday morning dawned, she considered feigning sickness but she knew her father would be able to tell that nothing was wrong with her. And then her mother would give her the third-degree, trying to find out what she was up to. She couldn't take that. Not now.