Her eyes widened. She stared up into his face. He stared down into her face with a grimace-grin of ecstatic pleasure. It was like a man’s face frozen in time as a roller coaster zips down its high fall.
He hugged her body and made her take cock and she began to cum again. She had reached that stage that you usually only heard about, a continuous female orgasm, from a cunt, clit and belly so— stimulated that every sex nerve and impulse was released.
“I-can’t-stop!” she cried, fearing for her body and her sanity.
“Give it all up. Die with it,” he ordered.
She shivered in pleasure and squeezed his cock like some dumb machine that turned on every few seconds. Her sensitivity in her cunt and breasts was unbelievable. His cock taught her what it was to be a woman in a way she’d never dreamed possible.
She fell off, sighing gratefully, pleasantly numb, euphoric and glowing, but finished.
His body, sealed to hers, was suddenly still.
“I lived for this,” he said quietly, his face inches from hers. She felt him stiffen in pre-orgasm glazing. Then he gave a lion’s roar.
“Seeding… youuuuuuu!”
The walls shook and the big prick spurted in her cunt. Flash after flash of boiling sperm inundated her belly and he sang in roaring joy, hugging her and exploding gush after gush deep inside her. She couldn’t believe a man had that much spunk in him.
She whined. She felt a new shuddering rush. She lifted under him and went on with her continuous orgasm, throbbing once more, against the mighty, spending prick as it wasted her belly with savoring chunks of delight. He whined and cooed and gasped as his pleasure seemed to make him want to jump out of his skin.
“Take it… all…” he ordered.
She let it happen, no longer caring, letting his spunk run out of her cunt while he spun new juices inside of her. She felt there was nothing left to give but her cunt still throbbed as long as he spent.
It had to end. It ended. She sank into a dazed doze, so worn out she didn’t mind the weight of his body still on top of her. She thought with amused irony as she sank down, “The sonofabitch never kissed me once!” and then she slept.
He moved like a drunken man, staggering up and off the fucked girl. He looked down at the bed. It looked like the morning after a wild honeymoon.
“To think I was once impotent,” he chuckled, reaching for his clothes, his body glowing with good feeling in every pore.
CHAPTER FOUR
Crystal sat in a banquette in the CELEB room of “Eloise’s”, the current star restaurant for discriminating New Yorkers. It was like a booth except that it was a semicircle with a high back, a single leather seat, and barely comfortable for six. Seven people had squeezed into it, at the insistence of Gunnar Strand.
Although she considered herself well up on New York ways, she was disconcerted at this slightly drunken brawl of A-C’s new customers— the Citizens-Merchants Bank. Somehow she’d always believed that bankers were more sedate than almost anybody. Tonight they were not.
Gunnar sat dead in the middle, facing outward. She sat in the middle of the two men on his left and Leaf sat in the middle of the two men on his right. Of the four bank officials, one was really squiffed, one was slightly squiffed, and two were getting their kicks in other ways.
Those two had their cocks out under the table. She could not believe that it was possible to do this in a public restaurant. The tablecloth quite adequately covered the movements of both her hands. Furthermore, by squeezing seven people into the places for six, things were so tight that it was impossible to see shoulder movements. Add the dim light in the room, the general merriment about them, and Gunnar’s expansive monologue— it was easy to do.
Gunnar had cleverly turned the attention to poor Leaf, who was being inundated with sex innuendoes and double meanings that the poor girl hardly understood. It held the attention of the other two men, who were not being jacked off, and covered the squirms and hoots of the two who were.
Earlier, when Crystal received her orders, she squeaked to Gunnar: “You can’t mean it. Why, if I touch Mr. Hunt or Mr. Weber, they’ll throw their new 1100 out in the street and you and me with it.”
“On the contrary, both have indicated to me that they’d gladly give up a couple of supertankers that their bank foolishly funded if they could fuck your platinum-headed brains out. In polite language, of course.”
Mr. Hunt headed the Trust Department of C-M. Mr. Weber headed Loans. Strangely, she decided that Gunnar was more interested in Hunt and his trust funds than Weber and his loan funds, whatever wild scheme he’d concocted.
Several weeks had passed since her fateful meeting with Gunnar. Leaf still lived with her and worked for Domino. Leaf had brought Crystal the necessary papers to set up dummy names to receive Domino paychecks, which was Crystal’s scheme. Sydney Martin was happy with the sex rationed out to him by Leaf and, once, Crystal, and he was not suspicious. Gunnar paid little attention to this small theft. He had much bigger ideas in mind, and she had to go along with him for now.
It was ridiculously easy for Gunnar to join her tutoring team on this new project. It turned out that he’d crept up on her by getting himself hired by A-C as Security Programmer, a specialist in preventing the misuse of the A-C 1100! As such, he was empowered to enter any project at any time and run checks. He was supposed to look out for just such scams as she had planted in the Domino machine! How he’d managed to document himself into that job was beyond her knowing, but he had always been brilliant, and prison had given him a cutting edge.
“The best cover in the world for a thief is a policeman’s uniform,” he pointed out to her.
So here he was, affable and charming, pretending to be slightly drunk and ultra genial as the host of the evening, and here were the bankers and here she was heading into an evening of unknown erotic adventures under his direction.
Eloise stopped by their table to trade repartee with the bankers whom she knew, and Crystal guessed that the restaurant owner probably had a big loan out from the C-M Bank chain. There was foreign money behind it, and it was the latest of “hot” banks in the Big Apple.
Crystal stilled her action until the owner left for another table. She was high and hot herself, thoroughly amazed at what she was doing and how Mr. Hunt and Mr. Weber were able to indulge in this weird kind of sex kick.
“Even presidents play pool,” had been Gunnar’s only comment before he’d crammed them into the banquette.
Per instructions, she waited until dessert to start her aggressions. Naturally both Hunt and Weber knew what was supposed to happen. They seemed to get a huge kick out of what she did. As zippers opened on either side of her, and she sent warm hands inside of flies in her erotic quests, the two men leaned across her to whisper and kid.
“Belly up yet?” asked Hunt.
“Out but not up,” laughed Weber.
Her role was to sit poker-faced and bored looking between the two while she kept her hands busy. Gunnar had cleverly focused all the sex kidding on the more obvious girl package, Leaf. He’d borrowed her for the night. The less daring and somewhat squiffed bankers on either side of her thought their side had the real sex excitement as they nudged and rubbed shoulders with her. Gunnar kept the bawdy conversation going at that side of his table, ignoring Crystal and her partners.
“Is it true that some girls have one higher than the other?” Gunnar asked.
“Mr. Strand, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Leaf, blushing.