Snyder saw that there would be no deterring her, no possibility of an intermission, no matter how brief, so he decided that the best thing he could do would be simply to sit back, relax, and enjoy it. For there was no denying the intense pleasure of it, the exciting sensation of her lush wet mouth wrapped around his penis – never had the gangster been treated so royally, not even by his own hand-picked prostitutes. Yes, he thought, I'm just going to let this incredible woman take care of me.
Lisa had swallowed nearly the entire length of his aching cock. Now she began to suck in earnest, to pull at the tender foreskin with all the strength of her jaws. Her muffled moaning echoed in Snyder's brain, which in turn sent messages of excitement scurrying down to his loins. He felt as if his entire body had been pulled into his penis and concentrated there, as if there was nothing left of him except the raw, pulsating nerve in the tip of his dick.
"Oooooooooooooooooooo," he cried. "That's it, baby. Come on now, suck me. That's right, suck me. Don't ever stop. Don't ever stop."
Lisa was not about to stop. His prick was throbbing steadily now, like a mighty drum inside her mouth, and each pulsing beat of it sent chills of pleasure down her spine. She knew he was coming nearer and nearer his climax, could hardly wait to feel his warm, gushing sperm stream into her throat. This thought egged her on, drove her to suck harder and harder yet, until she could barely breathe. She had dug her fingernails so far into the gangster's thighs that blood had begun to drip out – she could feel it on her fingertips, and the warm oiliness of it only aroused her that much more. She had to drink his cum, her crazed mind cried out to her, she had to drink it or surely she would die of thirst.
"Oh," Snyder was crying as his orgasm welled up in him, "oh!…oh!…oh!…Oh!…aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! I'm cumming, oh Jesus God, I'm cummmmmmmiiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg!"
Lisa felt his prick lash in her mouth, felt the first torrents of hot sperm gush into her. She gulped once, twice, three times, greedily swallowing as much of the honey-sweet white stuff as she could, feeling it slide down her esophagus and into her waiting belly, filling her nearly to overflowing. But the torrent started to subside before Lisa had gulped all she wanted, so suddenly, without warning, she grabbed Snyder's balls and squeezed them as hard as she could, milking them for every drop of semen they contained.
"Yaaaaaaaaa," screamed Snyder as she squeezed his balls. He jumped off the couch, tearing his prick from Lisa's mouth as he did, shredding it on the hard surface of her teeth. The last few drops of his semen dribbled out onto the floor as he danced in pain, blood beginning to ooze out from his wounded prick.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaahh," he screamed again. Never had he felt such pain, such excruciating, tortuous pain. But, he remembered as he fell to his knees in the middle of the living room, he had never felt such pleasure either. Oh, that poor, dumb cop, he thought, what that poor bastard's been missing – he should have given this chick Spanish fly years ago.
Dixon and Carstairs could hardly believe what they had seen, what they were seeing right this moment. There was their boss, the toughest, shrewdest operator on the West Coast, maybe in the country, on his knees in front of them, bleeding from a blow job by some cop's wife. It was too much, absolutely too much, Dixon thought. Lord, how that little housewife could do it; and in just a few minutes she was going to be doing it to him. Except Dixon wasn't going to settle for just a blow job – it didn't look like the safest thing in the world anyway – he was going to plant himself all the way inside that hot little bitch. Yes, he thought, this is going to be one hell of a fine afternoon.
"Get her upstairs, boys," said Snyder hoarsely, struggling to his feet. He was recovering now: his dick had stopped bleeding, and he could feel his strength returning. He stood up, reached down to his pants, which were still wrapped around his ankles, pulled them back up to his waist, took a few cautious steps. "Go on, go on, take her upstairs," he said. "I'll be up in a minute."
Dixon went over to Lisa, who was lying on the carpet, her eyes glazed and staring, her body quivering with unfulfilled lust. The drug had completely taken over now, had put her in touch with a lifetime of hidden sexual fantasies – her session with Snyder had been amusing, but it was only a beginning. The touch of Dixon's hands as he bent over to pick her up was like a siren sounding through her blazing body; immediately she threw her arms around him, dug her mouth into his neck.
Jesus, thought Dixon, is she going to fuck me right here in the living room? "Hold it, baby, hold it," he said, unhooking her arms from the back of his neck, "let's go upstairs, then you can do anything you want." He looked at her, saw the uncontained desire in her eyes, felt his own excitement increasing rapidly. "Anything at all," he whispered.
"Forget the talk," said Snyder, "she can't hear you anyway – all she wants to do is fuck. Just get her up there, and hurry it up. We haven't got all day."
"Right, boss," said Dixon. He picked Lisa up, slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, began carrying her up the stairs. Lisa went limp, finally realizing that she would have to wait the thirty seconds it would take them to get to the bedroom. Still, she thought, I can have a little fun on the way up. She dangled her arms down Dixon's broad back, grabbed his ass and began to massage it as he walked. Dixon laughed. "Good, baby," he said, "very good. You don't waste a minute, do you?" He reached the top of the landing, carried her through the bedroom door, threw her halfway across the room onto the big, soft bed. Immediately he began to strip off his clothes, never taking his eyes from her voluptuous naked body, concentrating his gaze especially on the perfect little triangle of black pubic hair below her belly. By the time he finished undressing, the sight of her lying there waiting for him, her body so open and willing, had made his enormous prick come to strict attention.
"Mmmmmmmm," thought Lisa as she stared at him, "what a big one. What a big, juicy, pretty one." She could hardly wait to feel him inside her, to feel that big hot cock thrusting powerfully into her body, joining her, filling her with its exciting presence. She wanted that cock more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life, and soon, she knew, she would have it. Just a few minutes more, just a little more patience, and that golden scepter would be hers, she grinned at the thought of it.
"Come over here, my beautiful man," she said, (from somewhere in a lost corner of her mind came that other voice, now reduced to a tiny whisper: "What are you doing? What are you saying?"), "come over here and let me get close to you. Let me see that thing," she said, pointing at Dixon's straining prick, "Let me touch it."
Dixon walked slowly over to the bed, lay down beside her. Instantly she grabbed for his cock, began stroking it with both hands, pulling it toward her body. There was no need for foreplay now – the drug and her interlude with Jay Snyder had taken care of that. Already her cunt was soaked with her own warm juices, already it was quivering in readiness for his penetration, crying out with a lusty hunger all its own, stretching itself to welcome him.
Closer and closer she drew it to her, still clutching it with both hands, until the first light touch of it between her legs made her shiver with delight. She rubbed the tip of it up and down along her clitoris, laughing crazily at the shocks of pleasure that filled her body. Finally she could stand it no longer: she spread her legs wide, arched her back, and crammed Dixon's rock-hard prick into her as far as it would go.