Rearranging her legs, thighs gaping wide at either side of his, the doctor took firm hold of his rod and steered the head to the hot, pink gash in her belly. He slouched down in the chair. "This what you want?" he asked in a strained voice, fucking the knob in. "Up… ummm! Up here?"
She couldn't answer; she couldn't do more than mumble incoherently, and sob, grinding down, wiggling to take the rest of the stiffness in.
The doctor's hand covered her pussy. His fingers hooked at the top of her slit, stretching her turning the puffy cunt lips outward to expose her tight channel. His big prick went slowly up, up.
"Hurt me," Wendy heard herself say. "Pinch my ass. Hit me. Hit me!!"
The doctor grunted obscene laughter. Gripping a fistful of tender thigh flesh, he squeezed until the mark of his fingernails were imprinted on the smooth surface, until she whimpered. Then he opened and lifted his hand, and brought it down with a loud smack! Again and again, the sound reverberating through the office, making her reddened thighs quiver like Jell-o. His thumb and forefinger became a giant ant's pincers, nipping her buttocks, leaving cuts like teeth marks, some oozing blood. All the time he was humping, driving cock up her forebelly, planting his long, rigid member in the satiny depths of her pulsing vagina.
Wendy closed her eyes and was back in the room at Miss Alberta's place, with Lew punching her thighs. Now the pain was exquisite, a raging flame in her cunthole bringing on orgasm. The hurt wasn't hurt any more. It was like when she was little and didn't like milk and slowly, as she grew older, the taste seemed to change. The creamy white fluid got good. So good she couldn't stop drinking it. Like the good cream she'd sucked out of Doctor Bruce's huge, hairy cubes. Like the jism she'd taken from Daddy, Lew, and Gus and the others at the whorehouse. Like the stuff in the front seat of the car, from the man who raped her the same night Larry tricked her up to the point for the surprise gang-bang. So good! Better than anything – every stiff prick that had planted cum in her guts…
Suddenly Doctor Bruce stood, taking her with him, bending her over the edge of the desk. "Lovely!" he proclaimed, his hands allover her plump, uptilted ass, his dick soaking, savoring her sweetness.
"Oh…! Go in 'n' out," breathed Wendy. "Don't stand still. Fuck! Fuck out my pussy. Do it. DO IT!" She thrust back, grinding against his coarse cockhair, her cunt ablaze with desire. Now she wanted his cream. God! she thought, head spinning, there was nothing she wanted more – not Daddy, not freedom, not anything.
The doctor began to screw, slowly, making her crazy with longing. His fingers crept up to the top of the dress bunched at her waist. One by one, taking his time, making her beg and thrash on the desktop, he undid the buttons. He worked the garment off her shoulders, and undid the snaps holding her bra. Her titties leaped free, hanging down like ripe honeydew melons. His hands crept over her ribs, tickling, making her suck huge draughts of air while waiting for the nails, the talons at the end of his long, bony fingers, to close on her taut, hungry nipples. She felt his lips at the nape of her neck. "Tell me what you want me to do," he hissed. "Say, 'Squeeze my little-girl nipples, Doctor Bruce!' Say, 'Play with my boobs while you fuck me!'"
She repeated the words – adding some of her own, not sure any more what she was doing or saying. She was sure only of the ache in her loins; the need, the command being shouted by the other Wendy. She felt his hands cup her breasts, the palms rubbing, agitating the peaks. She felt his dick begin to dip, pulling back until the fat head almost jumped free, then gliding – so smoothly, so swiftly, as if it were made specifically for her little pink hole – back in up to the hilt. She felt his nuts slapping her upturned ass, his pants and cockhair and shorts – she couldn't tell which any more – bruising the plump, satiny cheeks. And inside her she felt the fulfillment: multiple orgasm. She was cuming all by herself, two, three, five times. More! So many more she lost count.
And it was only the beginning. By the time Doctor Bruce climbed the mountain, reaching the place she'd arrived at minutes before, her cunt was so wet, her body so sated, so limp and exhausted and used, that she barely noticed the cumload dripping down the inside of her trembling thighs. She was lost in a place drenched in bright flashes and thrills. She and the other Wendy were merging, becoming one. The "good girl" was being interred, put to rest beneath the truth about herself; beneath the need to be defiled, to be taken by force and hurt and abused.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "Hurt me! Beat me! Rape me! Do it some more!"
"Okay, you horny bitch. I'll do whatever you want, just give me the word. I'm no one to deny a woman what she wants in the way of sex, believe me!"
"No, no, I know you wouldn't… oh, Christ, do it, stick it to me… yes, yes, yes! Deep! Fuck me! Rape me! Hurt me, hurt my pussy, make it sore, make it feel this cock of yours for days and days – I don't care."
Her orgasm was still rising; going up like a rocket ship through the clouds of her dizzy brain, making her whole body spin with the wonderful thrill of it.
The doctor made a concentrated effort to stay with it for several more minutes, pumping, pumping away, wildly, in and out, back and forth, not letting up for a moment, stabbing in and out, back and forth, again, and again, till they were both totally out of breath. But still they continued, reaching another point of ecstatic communion, the sensations of orgasm rushing in and out of their every nook and cranny, setting them on an intense path full of screams and scratches and writhing movements from side to side.
"Ohhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! God, God, it's too much, too fucking much! Yeeeeeeeee! Yes, yes, yes!"
It was still far from over. Her endurance was incredible. She could fuck for hours more, and if he couldn't hold up then she would find somebody else.
"Yes! Fuck me!" she screamed. "Don't stop! Don't ever ever stop!"
"I won't… unless I have a heart attack," said the doctor, with a trace of reality to his sarcasm. After all, he had never been with a lover who was so demanding. And she was that, and he hoped he was up to the challenge.
So far, his dick was holding up rather well, staying stiff deep within her cunt, moving back with the precision and strength of a piston.
In and out, back and forth, again and again he charged through her quaking loins.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed. "I'm starting to come again, Doc, I am, I am! Ahhhhhh! Don't stop! Don't ever stop, you wonderful man of medicine! Yeeee!"
"Ohhhh! I can't stand it! I'm going crazy! I'm going out of my fucking mind!"
Pounding, slamming, ramming in and out of her pussy. Again and again, on and on.
It seemed to both of them that it would never end. And it almost never did.
But when it did, they were both totally gone for days to come.
CHAPTER TEN
It was like watching a favorite movie rerun, thought Sam. She came languidly down the stairs to the administration building, turned her wide, clefted hips toward him, and waved to the girls looking down from the dorm window. Then she faced him and grinned. Heart thumping like an engine room piston, he watched her float toward the car. Again she had changed: she was taller, five-four, maybe five. Her red hair had darkened, become auburn, and was piled stylishly on top of her head. Her legs seemed longer too. And her tits and pelvis were those of a grown woman.
"Hi Daddy," she said in a mature, throaty voice. Her nylons hissed as she slipped into the seat. Her green eyes flashed with suppressed laughter. Demurely she tugged the hem of her thigh-length dress down.
He was speechless. His little girl had grown up, and was a beauty. Where before she was sweet, cute all the adjectives that fit a teenage minx – she was at eighteen a dream, something out of a high-class fashion magazine. But she seemed to have changed in other ways too, the way she held her knees tightly together, the swank but less revealing clothes she wore. Now he knew why she'd insisted that he stay, away, why, after the first year, she wrote less and refused to allow him to visit. She had planned the effect.