As air began to pump damply burping from her uncontrollably lusty cunt, Maryon erupted like a suddenly ruptured pipeline, a glorious fountain of scalding liquid force-flooding her vitals while fiery red and purple and golden rocket-trails exploded in pyrotechnic panoply in the galaxy of her eyes. In automatic, unmindful response, her palpitating belly bounced her rapidly upon the desk top in jello-y quavers that bobbed her bare butt smackingly upon the man's pitapatating stomach, initiating in him the chain reaction that sent ripples of rope riding round his pressure-pent prick. Reaching with her aaw! aaw! aaw!-ingly distended vulva as though her cunt was a hot and horny clam, Maryon, feeling as though her guts would run out of her with the strain her sphincter muscles imposed with their auctioning pull, took his throbbing cock by the roots and ran her vaginal fingers firmly but artfully about and around the entire swelling length until his dick was stretched to its ultimate extent within the moist confines of her quaggy quim. A last masterful manipulatory munch on his tenderized cock-head and… and… and… Maryon's cunt was reamed by flushing flashes of roiling boiling ichorous liquid that replaced the marrow in her melting bones and filled every last crevice in her crumbling skin, inflating her with fumes that crowded out of her gold-capped cranium all thought save that of its own impact and implication.
She was fucked to utter fulfillment, as Jenner seemed to be fucking to first fruition, and together their complementary convulsions lingered them in lusty lostness which wound down only when both were completely exhausted, with her contracting cunt slackening as rapidly as his tabescing tupper.
Their breathing was harsh and ragged as they lay there, each recapturing mentally the recent glories of their mutual experience. Jenner was first to get up, pulling his limp prick stickily from her slit so that Maryon could feel the cold cum congealing in her cleft. The air in the room was chill on her sweat-cooled goose-bumped flaccid ass, but she made no move to rise or even cover herself for some time. She heard the rustling of his dressing, the hesitant clearing of his throat, the inherent embarrassment of the short pause that followed, then the quiet unlocking of the office door and its sluthering shutting. A quick cold draft cut at her bare buttocks and that, finally, drove her to pull herself together, pick up her discarded panties, and sneak tight-thighed to the rest room in her rumpled parody of a schoolgirl's costume.
This was the best, but not the last, of their clandestine copulations.
SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD
Jenner unexpectedly resigned at the end of the spring semester, giving her no straight reason but facing her for their last time with a cold, calm expression of regret that she saw to be a lie.
Even when she attempted to go down on him, he pushed her hungry head away from his cock and, dismissing her, walked out of the office and her life. She shrugged, and surmised that either she'd worn out his virility or he'd somehow managed to convert his Jesus-freak of a wife to his widened, whimsical versions of sexual expression. If so, Maryon thought, then she'd be a better female for it.
"A cultivated cunt is a contented cunt, and a factual fuck in the here-and-now is worth two moot blessings in the Beyond!" was the way she formulated it.
Things at home were no better. Lois was growing morose and man-hating as her various affairs tailed off. A visit to Karen in the summer didn't revive the old lesbian fires for them, and everyone at school seemed dull and moronic as she trudged into the fall classes. Though Jenner's magic word seemed to have stood her in good stead, upping her marks; and though this trend persisted as the summer classes came to an end, Maryon found it easier to get along if she acted the part of a semi-simpleton, not putting herself forward as the one who knew all the answers.
It might have been because of this that she was approached by Wesley McAlister to play the role of Daisy Mae in the High School production of Li'l Abner. Perhaps because of the dumb blonde implications of the part, none of the older girls seemed eager to audition but, for the sake of something to do, and because of Wes himself, she immediately said she'd try out for it.
Wes was a well-built, handsome black of eighteen who, at six-two, refused to go out for basketball and preferred to get involved in the Drama Society and head up a rock-blues group called "The Rip-Off Ripon Society Band". He was almost the last of a special group from Metropolis' ghetto district that Glenville High'd brought voluntarily in a couple of years ago as part of an experiment funded by the University. He seemed to have lost the ghetto hustling ways and antagonism toward the whites that marked his first year, and now was quite at ease among his peers, with only an occasional snarling jar in his drawl to betray his former deprived background. He quite naturally lorded it over the mixed members of his band and was accepted as a gifted Director-Producer in the Drama Society. Though he had a small coterie of fans, he didn't appear to give his time to any of the girls who were wont to hang about the auditorium when he was in rehearsal. He seemed eager to have Maryon in the play and fussed about her when she was ready to try a reading and audition for him, as though wanting her to make a good impression on the others involved who would be hearing her. Properly briefed, she went down to the auditorium one evening and let herself be shown out onto the stage. To add a touch of authenticity to her try, she'd brought, and now wore, a black micro-mini skirt and an old, flowered, wide-open-necked blouse and was bare-legged and-footed. At first her voice was weak, but after a shout came from over the blinding footlights for her to speak out, she got together her courage and declaimed, putting some little action into it, determined not just to stand there with her hands at her side.
When she'd finished there was silence for some moments, and she nervously wondered whether she should go off or continue to stand there. There must have been some consultation beyond the lights, for presently she heard Wes' voice telling her that she'd probably do but that he'd have to coach her, and telling her to go back to the star dressing room where he'd come see her when he was through.
She found herself to be annoyingly anxious as she sat before the large, bulb-surrounded mirror and waited for him. Was it because of the acting job? Hardly… she just wasn't that much interested in theatricals. Because of Wes himself, then? Well, he was quite a man, and different in so many ways. She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the door open, and was only aware of him when she got a startling reverse view of him in the mirror, his white teeth flashing out of the shadows that surrounded him. "Glad you could wait, baby," he said, coming forward, "Uh, Maryon, one thing. I know this is no Broadway production we got going here but, just for the posters, d'you mind if we cut off that Swelt bit, and bill you as Maryon Alysun?"