"Come on, honey," he said. "Suck on it a little and get it real hard and then I'll pour it to ya."
"No…" Marcy said, "no, I don't want to."
"Sure you do, honey. C'mon, suck it a little for ol' Don."
"I don't want any sex," Marcy said. "I just want to get some sleep."
"I don't get a chance at somethin' as nice as you very often," he said. "Suck it a little, Marcy."
"Please… I just want to sleep."
"Suck it… and then you can sleep."
She rolled her eyes up to his. She could see that it was going to be no use. If she didn't give him what he wanted, he would never let her alone.
"What about your wife?" Marcy asked.
"Erica? Don't worry about her. Here… take it… take my peter in your sweet, juicy mouth!"
"Oh shit," Marcy said, shrugging and thinking what the hell.
Marcy pulled her knees under her and wrapped her arms around his buttocks. She pulled herself up until her face was at his crotch. Her pink tongue shot out of her mouth in short, fast strokes. She covered the sides of his cock and started to work on the balls. She took most of his scrotum in her mouth and worked his balls against the warm, wet sides of her mouth with the rise and thrust of her tongue. She spat out the nuts and nippled his scrotum playfully.
"Yeah… yeah, that's it," he groaned. "Suck it now!"
She wrapped her lips around the smooth, fleshy end of the cock. The warmth of her mouth caused it to jump and stiffen slightly. She opened her mouth wider and admitted the shaft all the way to the back of her throat. Then she sucked in her cheeks and began the pressure. He reached down, grabbed two fistfuls of hair, and pressed her head into his groin.
Her tongue flicked up and down the length of his stiffening cock. She accelerated her movements. His hands were gripping her head tightly and rocking it back and forth, up and down in a rising frenzy. She pulled her lips back from over her teeth, letting them run on the wetly shining flesh.
"I want to fuck you," he said, pulling his rigid cock from her mouth. "I want to pour my cock into your cunt and come inside you."
Oh Jesus, she thought, rolling over on her back. She spread her legs apart and pried open the lips of her pussy with the fingers of both hands. "All right," she groaned. "Go ahead. But hurry up!"
He crawled between her legs and held his cock like a spear at her vaginal opening. Using the thick rubbery head of his cock, he parted the soft hair-lined lips of her vagina. Marcy turned her head to one side, closing her eyes and no longer caring to watch what was going on.
He flicked his hips forward slightly.
Levering up on her with his cruel powerful shoulder muscles, he pushed again. Christ, she was tight! he thought to himself, feeling the hard rubbery tip of his cock pop suddenly up into the narrow passage.
Then he grinned arrogantly and forced his cock up inside her another inch or two, feeling the hot moist walls of her tightly clasped cuntal passage yield unwillingly before the inexorable force of his driving hardness. He flexed his buttock muscles tightly and shoved himself home, burying his long thick rod in her to the hilt and pushing the soft flesh of her cunt before him in softly rippling waves.
"You like it, huh, baby? Is it good for ya'!" he said, flexing the muscles in his ass and pounding his cock into her.
"Just fuck it, will ya!" Marcy hissed, refusing to move a muscle to help him.
He raised himself higher, jamming his cock nearly straight down into her. It increased the pressure on the barrel of his shaft and heightened the friction on his throbbing cockhead. In no time he felt himself spurting.
Marcy felt it too and wriggled out from underneath him, while his cock continued to shoot.
"Now, go to bed… please," Marcy said.
She was about to crawl back under the covers when the room was bathed in light. Erica stood right beside the bed. She was stark naked.
"Bravo… bravo, Don honey!" she shouted. "I've never seen you better. Now it's my turn. Let's have a real party?"
The woman had just swung her ass over Marcy's face when the girl rolled from beneath her and off the bed.
"What's the matter, honey? It's okay… Don and I swing all the time."
"Not me." Marcy said, climbing back into her clothes. "I pick my own sex partners… they don't pick me."
CHAPTER TEN
She roamed the streets for two days. Sex wasn't on her mind at all now… food and a bed were. She managed to get a few handouts from strolling prostitutes who thought she was one of them and just down on her luck. One of them even offered to let her sleep on her couch as soon as her last customer left for the night.
Marcy thanked her the next morning and left, after first turning down an offer for some sex from her pimp, and then an offer to go to work for him.
"Hooking's an easy life, honey," Daisy, the prostitute, said. "How else could you make a livin' layin' down?" She threw back her head and laughed uproariously.
Marcy laughed along with her, but declined anyway.
By the time Marcy met the two young drug dealers she was on her last legs.
"Hey, honey… you need a boost bad," said one.
"Yeah, baby… you want to crash up in our pad?" his girl friend asked.
Marcy went with them to a small two-bedroom apartment. There were nine people in all, not including herself, who shared the apartment. Her first night there, she was awakened three times by two boys and a girl. All three of them were stoned to the eyeballs and wanted to know if she wanted some sex.
Marcy declined in all three cases and they all rolled away to another body without giving her any hassle or argument.
For the next two days in the pad she went out and looked for work, any kind of work. She found nothing. The third day the boy who owned the apartment told her she could earn some quick bread by scoring a "coke" delivery for him.
Just the idea of drugs, let alone selling or delivering them, scared her to death.
She declined.
He seemed disgruntled and mumbled a lot when he walked away from her, but nothing more was said that afternoon.
That evening, he approached her again. "Listen, honey… everybody pays his way around here, and you're no different. Here's an address. His name is Ike. Show him a good time or don't come back."
It was nearly dark when she left the apartment. She crumpled the piece of paper and dropped it in the gutter. She walked for hours. It was past midnight when a hand fell on her shoulder.
"Let's go, honey."
She turned to see a policeman. "What's wrong? I haven't done anything."
"I know, honey," he said, his smile almost friendly, "I guess you just didn't get the word. I thought all you girls heard about the city-wide clean-up tonight. Jesus, can't you chicks go just one night off? C'mon, let's go."
And then Marcy understood.
"But you don't understand," she said. "I'm not what you think I am."
"Sure you aren't… c'mon."
Marcy did thirty days. During the first ten she was miserable, and even thought about calling her parents to come and get her, or telling the police that she was a runaway. At least that way she would be placed in a home rather than a cell. But she did neither one. She was afraid her parents would be contacted, and that was the last thing she wanted to happen; she would then have to admit defeat.
She got out and was on the street two days when she ran into Daisy again.
"Jesus, kid, you look like shit. C'mon, I'll buy you a bowl of soup."
They went into a restaurant and Marcy laid into a bowl of soup, a sandwich, and two glasses of milk.
"Damn, kid," Daisy said, watching her wolf the food down, "when was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday," Marcy replied.