"Ohhhhhhhh," he said, as the tight muscles of her cunt closed around him.
For the briefest moment they were content to lay still, to feel themselves finally together as one person. Judy could feel Tim far up inside her, feel the warmth of his cock as it throbbed against the walls of her pussy, filling her as she had never been filled before. Then she started moving, slowly raising and lowering herself, going up until Tim's prick almost came out of her and then sliding down the full length of it, moaning and quivering as it stabbed into her again and again.
Holy Christ, thought Tim, I'll bet her customers never got anything like this. Her customers! The thought of Judy in bed with anyone else, the thought of anyone else inside her, driving her into a passionate frenzy, nearly drove Tim mad with jealousy. I'll show her, he thought. I'll fuck her like she's never been fucked before.
He withdrew his prick from her vibrating cunt, heard with satisfaction as she let out a disappointed "Oh!"
"Now we'll try it my way," he said.
He turned her over roughly, lay her on her back, and thrust his prick into her as far as it would go. "Ohmigod!" she cried, raising her legs high in the air, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her. "More!" she cried. "Fuck me, Tim; fuck me, fuck me!"
Tim responded by driving into her even more savagely, in and out in long, smooth strokes that made her shudder with delight. No matter how far he went into her, even when he slammed against the walls of her cervix, she still wanted more. She locked her legs around his waist, undulated her hips in perfect time with his stroking. "Ohhhh, yes," she whimpered. "Do it to me. Do it to me some more. Don't ever stop."
Tim had no intention of stopping. He was going to show her what it was to have a real man, someone who could give her everything she needed. He reached around behind her, dipped his finger in the viscous fluid around her cunt, and stabbed his finger deep into her anus, continuing all the while with his stroking. "Yes," she screamed. "Yes! Do it there too! Do it everywhere!"
Judy was going crazy. Never had anyone done this to her, never made her feel as if she would die if she didn't get more, as if there was nothing else in the world except this tremendous cock inside her, this finger rotating in her anus, making her mad with lust, building passion in her until she thought she would come apart. This was a man, oh yes, this was a real man! Already she could feel the stirrings deep inside her, the little series of shocks that would eventually lead to that final orgiastic explosion. The stirrings became deeper and more pronounced with each thrust of Tim's prick, with each rotation of his finger; building and building and building, becoming a solid wall of pleasure, until she knew she could hold off no longer, until the pleasure was too much for any woman to contain.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she yelled. "Oh, God, oh, Jesus, oh my God, I'm cummmmmming! Oh God I'm cummmmming NOW!"
Her pussy was oscillating like an electric vibrator, her hips thrashing wildly as Tim continued to stroke, building her climax to incredible proportions as he moved toward his own. "Scream," he said. "Scream, baby. Feel it. Feel me. That's right, scream!"
Tim could hold himself back no longer. He relaxed his sphincter muscles, allowed the pleasure to build up inside him as he took the pressure off his straining balls. "Oh, here I come! HERE I COME. NOWWWW!"
His hot sperm spurt in rivers from his cock, filling Judy with the fabulous juice of passion. She grabbed his balls, squeezed them hard, wringing every drop of sticky come from him, making him scream with pleasure and pain, drawing out his climax until he nearly fainted from ecstasy. Lord, he thought, as he collapsed on top of her, there was no one like this girl. No one.
Judy was thinking exactly the same thing. "Tim," she said, "I love you. I love you very much. What you did… oh, I'm so happy."
Tim knew she couldn't possibly be lying, not now. Now they were truly together, now nothing would ever separate them. They had made love like no one before them, and they would go on doing it forever. In fact, he thought as he reached for her, it's almost forever already…
CHAPTER FIVE
"I.D., please," said the uniformed security guard at the door.
Mike Kramer reached into his coat pocket for his badge case, showed the badge to the doorman. "Vice squad," he said.
"Right," said the doorman. He grinned at Mike. "Come to check it out?"
"Strictly on my own time. I'm here for pleasure, not business." In a way this was true – Mike had come to this convention on his own time, but he was there for anything but pleasure. This was a convention of night club owners from all over the United States and Canada, and Mike hoped that if he played his cards right he would be able to get close to Jay Snyder, close enough to accumulate some evidence that could be used to build a case against him. Since the convention was in Los Angeles, and since conventions of this sort were always attended by wild partying and paid sex, Mike figured that Snyder would have the sex concession.
Mike thought about Lisa. If he could only convince her, he thought, if he could only make her see that this was the important part of his job, nailing crooks like Snyder, and that it didn't matter what rank he held on the force just so long as he could be effective. The higher up you went, Mike knew, the less effective you became. Hell, the guys who really did the work were the patrolmen; even lieutenants spent too much time behind a desk, shuffling papers. If he could just make her see.
"Jackson's the name," boomed a loud voice at Mike's side. "Own a topless joint in Dubuque, Iowa."
Mike turned to see a short, fat, bald man of about fifty. He had a patch over one eye, and a huge gap where his front teeth should have been. Protruding from that gap was the biggest, blackest, stinkiest cigar Mike had ever seen. Mike had met hundreds of men like this in his work, sleazy little bastards who thought about nothing but money and women, who preyed equally on their customers and on the girls who worked for them. Generally they weren't worth the time of day, but tonight Mike was playing all possible angles.
"Hi," he said. "Mike Kramer. I'm from town here."
"That so?" said Jackson. "What kind of joint you running?"
"Discotheque," said Mike.
The fat man eyed him. "Discotheque, huh?" he said. "I tried one of those. Didn't go over so big in Dubuque. Now in Chicago, or New York."
"Or Los Angeles," interrupted Mike.
"Right," the fat man said, grinning and nodding his head. "Here in L.A. you guys got a good thing going. In Dubuque I got to work my ass off all the time."
I'll bet you do, Mike thought to himself. Then out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Steve Paul, Jay Snyder's right-hand man. Paul was moving slowly across the convention floor, smiling and shaking hands with every second person he saw. Christ, Mike thought, it looks like he's running for President. But Paul was hardly presidential timbre. He ran all Snyder's collections and all his legitimate businesses, helped him maintain his front as a respectable entrepreneur. More than that, he was also his boss' aide and confidante, the only man Snyder trusted. This was a big fish indeed.
"Excuse me," Mike said. He walked abruptly away from Jackson, left him chewing his cigar and wondering. Paul was moving toward the opposite door, and for a moment Mike thought he might slip away. He hurried on, pushing and elbowing his way through the crowd. "Hey, buddy," said one of them, "take it easy. There's no rush."
"Sorry," said Mike, and he pushed on.
Steve Paul was almost to the door when Mike finally caught up to him. "Hey!" he called out.
Paul turned around, regarded Mike with a cold stare. "Yes?" he said.