“Oooooooohhhhhh, fuck meeeeeeee!” she wailed “Please fuck meeeeeeeeee!”
With a low groan Tom made on powerful, body jolting thrust forward, and drove his huge, rock hard penis into the soft yielding flesh of her vagina, rammed it home until her cervix hungrily closed against the smooth rubbery tip. He felt the elastic sheath of her wetly clasping cunt slip hotly around his long fleshy column, consuming it as he raced deep up into her belly, his sperm-laden balls slapping her ripely upturned buttocks, with a resounding, staccato sound.
He was gone, lost in a nether world of enchanting sensual bliss, in the wondrous cavern of Gay’s wildly exciting cunt. He flexed his body and crashed into her time and time again, driving and lashing in almost brutalistic abandonment as he tried to rid himself of the twin devils: passion and anger.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jill Parker sat huddled in a far corner booth of the Hidden Valley Resort bar. She held a Drambuie in her trembling hand, sipping it as she had the previous three glasses. Her brain was full of abject, overwhelming misery, and the warm liquor had taken the cutting edge off her agony. Occasionally she daubed her swollen eyes with a tissue, for there had been no end to the copious flow of tears since she’d walked out of her cottage. “Jill?”
For a moment, Jill thought Tom was speaking to her, that he had come after her and found her here. She looked up, and stared into the eyes of Harry Sommers.
“Go away, Mr. Sommers,” she said curtly. “Please go away.”
“Jill… Jill, I know how you must feel. I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Please go away.” She dropped her eyes to her drink.
“I can’t, I’m afraid… I… must speak with you.”
Without further ado, Harry sat down in a chair across from her. His eyes were contritely downcast, and he held his hands together as though very sad. “I know this sounds terrible, but I want you to forget what happened last night. I want to be friends with you, and believe me, it was the liquor in me that caused all the trouble.”
Jill smiled ruefully at the glass in her hands. Liquor. Salvation… or hell? She was beginning to feel the Drambuie, being as upset as she was and having had nothing to eat, and she was having a little problem focusing on Harry.
“My wife and I… well, we’re having sort of a get-together to start the week off right, and I want you along. Your husband is already there.” You bet he is, thought Harry to himself He should be in there any minute now! In my over sexed wife that is!
“No… I’d rather not.”
“Please. It’s the only way I can possibly make it up to you, and besides, Gay wants to meet you very much.”
“No, thank you.”
“At least come up for a minute to make her acquaintance. Then leave. I won’t press you further if you’ll do that for us.”
“Oh, all right,” she said a trifle petulantly, “if you insist.” Jill didn’t want to at all. She didn’t want to see any more of Sommers, of her husband – of anybody. Only the bottom of the Drambuie glass. She finished the liquor and licked the rim of the glass. But the only way of getting rid of Sommers was to make the trip, she could see that, and so she rose from the table, a little wobbly, and said: “Let’s get this over with. I’m thirsty.”
“Whatever you say,” Harry said graciously. He got to his feet and took her arm, helping her. She allowed him to lead her for the second time through the maze of tables, across the lobby and outside.
As they moved outside, the bright early morning sun caught Jill by surprise, and she closed her eyes from the glare. When she opened them, she found that she was moving down the small road to her own cottage.
“Hey this is the way to our place,” she said in confusion, her speech slurred slightly from the liquor she’d drunk.
“Yes, I know,” Harry said quickly. “Our cottage is just beyond yours, remember?”
Blushing from the memory of what had happened the day before, Jill allowed herself to be led along, swaying and occasionally stumbling against Harry’s powerful body. Suddenly, Harry stopped, as though he were listening very care fully.
“Did you hear that?” he asked quietly.
Jill looked up, and noticed that they were standing in front of her own cottage. She listened, and then did hear something. Something strange, like two people in an argument.
“Come on, let’s go see what’s going on,” whispered Harry, already leading her up the walk to the cottage.
Dazed and confused by the liquor she’d consumed, Jill allowed herself to be pulled along, and soon found herself in the living room of her cottage. The whole thing was unreal, like a dream, a fantasy she was watching but not taking part in. But the dream was suddenly brought into focus, and the fantasy shattered, by a scream that came through the open door to the bedroom.
“Ohhhhhh fuck meeeeeee! Fuck meeeeee!”
“Why… why that sounds like it came from my room!” Jill whispered.
“So it does. I wonder what’s going on!”
Jill began to bolt for the bedroom door, but Harry grabbed her arm.
“No!” he cautioned, “We don’t know who might be in there, and I think we’d better go carefully.” Without waiting for an answer, he guided the pretty wife by her arm to the door. “Shhhhh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips. “I’ll just ease the door back like this… and—”
There, to Jill’s completely uncomprehending eyes, was a clear view of her husband and a strange woman on the bed, humping like two mad, naked dogs!
“My God, Jill!” Harry whispered in hushed tones. “That’s my wife!”
Again, Jill tried to focus her liquor clouded vision on the salacious spectacle, but she had difficulty. Then all the horror, all the sickening, foul terror and revulsion curdled in her mind, burned her retinas, and made her gasp with total rejection. She stepped back, knowing she must flee from this disgusting carnal abuse which was before her… but Harry caught her and held her in such a way that she was forced to stay. Her eyes bulged wide.
Tom, her husband, making love to another man’s wife! Oh God, it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! She must be having a hallucination, an impossibly wretched nightmare, for this was impossible! And yet… it was happening! Was Tom some sick, perverted animal deep inside who had to rut and grovel in sex? Yes… yes, that must be true for what else would explain his treatment of her last night and all the other nights?
Harry’s rapidly swelling cock had grown from the lewdly exciting sight of his nakedly writhing wife being fucked by his young account executive, and the bulge of his painfully throbbing penis almost touched the sensual swell of Jill’s trembling ass cheeks. He moved her closer, guiding her gently, and she took his support as she would have taken a life preserver if drowning. She leaned gratefully against his body, and her warmly soft buttocks rubbed against his lust-hardened shaft making it almost burst with an eagerness to get inside her tight little cunt. He brazenly pressed his hotly pulsing hardness against her smooth round buttocks, knowing that the only thing she was aware of with her Drambuie-dulled brain was the obscene ritual of copulation on the bed in front of her.
Tom grunted like a mating ox as he thrust deeper and deeper into the soft warm flesh of Gay Sommer’s wetly upthrust vagina. His huge, sperm-bloated testicles smacked like cymbals crashing against her smoothly flexing ass cheeks, and Gay in turn mewled and sung her wild lyrics of passion as she worked demonically to milk his heatedly thickened cock of his great load of white hot sperm.