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He released her head and placed one hand under each breast, cupping them, pressing them so that she cried out with pain, thumbing the hardened nipples until they sprang against his nail. She bucked and twisted and writhed, the great hotness of his flesh spearing her ass at each movement. Now he started to draw her off and on, her moisture and his lubricating the wrenched passage until there was a steady shwuck! shwuck! shwuck! that sounded in her flaming ears above her own moans of pleasure and hurt and his deep draughts of air into his lungs.

Another long minute, and he brought one hand down under her and stuck a stubby finger straight into her slavering slot in a lunge that reached the agonized end of her vaginal sheath, and she came.

She shrilled with passionate delight as she flooded, and flooded, and opened up into a sea of liquid fire.

Immediately he let go of her and deftly brought his hands rapidly sliding up her back to bury themselves in her mass of golden hair and pull her sharply back. She hung suspended by her tresses and his driving prick, and as she involuntarily opened and closed her various sphincter muscles, she screamed at the top of her voice at the pain distributed throughout every inch of her slender, self-slung body.

Carver moved heavily forward and she just had time to brush aside the drapes surrounding the bed and throw her hands up against the wall, or her face would have been mashed into it. Braced as she was, he drove straight into her, burying most of his cock length into her quivering bowel flesh. Her whole being consisted of her tight flesh around his massive prick… nothing else remained to or in her.

As she continued to jerk and jump like a fish on the line, he came, and a boiling raging torrent surged up into her ass. She was past screaming, but her mouth opened in a silent oh! of ecstatic agony.

A fiery freewheeling bomb built in her, somewhere just behind her belly, and exploded. The sensual pleasure fought against the sickening pain until, finally, it won, and she relaxed and let it all hang out as it wonderfully happened – glow and glory, heat and horrendous wetness – rocket-burst after rocket-burst as he spent himself in plunging, rectum-wrenching, ass-ripping, butt-busting fusillades.

Carver relaxed his grip on her now and she hung from him in a limp loop, face down, arms and legs and neck dangling like a dead goose. Through searing eyes she saw her own spendings trickle and spurt down on his golden-furred balls to the floor as he continued to convulse and flicker within her cock-crammed cavity.

Finally he was through. His bag went flaccid and the shaft up her asshole became soft. He shuffled toward the bed, bending his blond-ape legs so that her own, drooping down, could touch the carpeting. She slid painfully off his fragrant, brown-limp cock, giving a couple of last wringing-out squeezes before he was free, and flopped, exhausted but content, covered with dampness inside and out, upon the mattress, her ass sore and bruised, breasts aching, her cunt a red-hot void that felt uneasily pleasant.

Carver slapped her rump playfully and Maryon winced, but he dropped down beside her and put his arm about her shoulders. "First time?" he asked. She nodded. "Won't be the last," he laughed in her ear, and began to run a soothing finger up and down her crack.

And it wasn't. Not that he was particularly perverse, fixed only on fucking her ass, but Carver did like variety, and Maryon soon found herself adjusting. He stayed for four months until she learned from Mike that Carver looked forward to a life of being supported by girls, seeking neither to work nor study, but relying on his pussy-powered piston to get him along.

He wasn't that good, although he had humor and some tenderness in him, so… out he went, with a grin and a groan.

NINETEEN YEARS OLD PLUS

Carver went because he'd been using Maryon in a way that she could the more easily perceive because of her studies in Social Anthropology. As she moved into her nineteenth year and the beginning of the '70s she spent much time in analyzing her near decade of sexual experience and began to see that, though she had most often had her own pleasure, it had been at the price not, actually, of willing cooperation, but of an enforced coercement that had been laid on her by physical or moral pressures. Even when she had actively sought out some new enlargement of her sexual scene, it had usually come about by her being prepared to submit to another's whims.

She was now able to see that this would have been bearable, that to cater to someone else did not necessarily mean that one thereby had to lose something, that a compromise, or a share of giving was, after all, the only way in which any area of life could be maintained in a civilized manner. But, not knowing this at the time, she had appeared as a 'victim' to the other participants in her sexual adventures and had thereby been degraded in their eyes, from her brother Mike on through Colin and Sylvia and Johnny, through Karen, through the 'cats'… Jim, Wes, Carver. All had taken advantage of her and she had willingly gone along with them, taking her joys as though they had been crumbs thrown her from the table of the others' sensual feasts.

A comparison of various cultures throughout space and time showed her that it was always possible to find one that broke the more usual taboos… incest as practiced in ancient Egypt, polyandry in Northern India, polygamy in China and in Islam, sodomy in Glorious Golden Greece… The list of unacceptable sexual practices' became smaller and smaller as she read and studied in the literature on the Global Village.

Mistress of all these facts, and of herself, Maryon began a steady program of search and fulfillment, determined to live a full and complete sex life. But the way was not necessarily easy because of her knowledge…

A visit, alone, to a meeting of the local chapter of the Sexual Liberation Movement found her one evening on the porch of an old Victorian-style mansion whose purple-painted door and orange lintels proclaimed it as the repository of the 'new' and 'in' and 'far-out'. At her buzz the door opened to disclose a short, stringy-haired blonde girl in a throat-to-ankle wrapper, presumably an 'officer' or functionary of the SLM. An imitation Tiffany lamp gave off a red-bulbed glow to illuminate the small foyer into which she was quickly ushered, and another lit a slightly larger room opening off it. "Hi," said the girl, after locking the front door. "Just feel free to wander around. If you see anything you like…" The statement was loaded with implication. "If you feel like skinning down, just drop your stuff in this room – find yourself a corner or something – it'll be easier to get yourself together that way when you're ready to split. Have fun."

With that the blonde pulled a pair of granny-glasses out of her pocket, put them on, and dropped the wrapper onto a chair to show herself as a rather chunky nude with a thick waist and a wealth of hair at her crotch. Looking at the flat planes of the girl's butt as she wandered away, Maryon begin to realize why the lighting was so subdued. She'd brought no purse, and she didn't feel like stripping down till she'd seen what the action was like here, so she contented herself with dropping her maxi-coat behind a couch whose surface was covered with little piles of clothing and went cautiously off to explore. Not quite knowing what to expect, she'd come dressed in a black leather ensemble of vest, mini and boots, over a pale blue bodystocking, the vest joined at the front with a single silver chain. She soon found that she was over-dressed. Practically all those she saw in the house were nude, and those that were not wore only minimum clothing that did more to enhance the wearer's sex than to conceal it. There was a tall, crop-haired black girl in glasses, for instance, who wore a kind of ornamental metallic yoke about her neck from which hung down hundreds of white silky filaments, through which her proud strong black breasts protruded impudently. When the girl struck a pose with a foot placed on the head of a boy on the floor, her long leg broke through the white waterfall to disclose a belly whose base was covered with a wooly black mat to match her hair.