"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," she groaned, as the huge piston came into her, lodging its tip hard against her cervix. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh, it feels so good!"
"Mmmmmmmmmfffffff," said Dixon, feeling the muscles of her warm, moist cunt close around him.
"Come on, now," whispered Lisa. "Come on and fuck me. Give me everything you've got! Fuck me, oh come on. Fuck me!" She began moving her hips in an undulating, circular motion, drawing Dixon's throbbing stiff prick further and further into her, feeling the searing hot flesh of it burn against the walls of her oscillating cunt. She contracted the muscles of her pussy, using all her strength to close down around the mass of throbbing bone and muscle inside her, squeezing it, trying to make it a permanent part of her. Oh, Jesus, she thought, where have I been all my life? What have I been missing? There was nothing in the world to compare with this, no experience or sensation that could measure up against this one, this wonderful raging prick inside her, pumping in and out, banging against the soft warm flesh of her cervix, exciting her beyond belief. All the familiar aspects of her world – her house, the endless tennis games and club meetings, the thousands upon thousands of breakfasts and lunches and dinners – all these had shrunk away, leaving nothing but the infuriating and heavenly stimulating of this strange man's cock, the paradise of pleasure inside her. Even her husband, to whom she had devoted all the energies of her womanhood, every thought, every care; even her husband was forgotten for these few moments, lost and drowned in the tempest of pleasure that was going on in her body, pushed out of her life by the powerful thrusting of Dixon's huge prick.
They were both so lost in one another, so deeply involved in the outrageous pleasure of their fucking, that they didn't hear Snyder and Carstairs come into the room. Even the ringing of the little princess telephone on the nightstand failed to distract them – there was nothing that could stand in their way, nothing that could tear their attention from the animal-like pumping of their bodies.
Snyder picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he said cautiously. Then his face broke out into a wide grin; he winked at Carstairs, pointed down at the receiver. "Why hello, Lieutenant," he said. "Nice to hear from you. This is Jay Snyder speaking."
"You filthy bastard," came the voice on the other end of the line, "what are you doing in my house?"
"Why, Lieutenant," said Snyder. "What a way to talk. Actually, we're not doing anything much. You hear that noise in the background?"
He brought the receiver over toward the bed, close enough so that it could pick up the sound of Lisa's rapturous moaning, then put it back to his mouth again. "That's the sound of your beloved wife, who at the moment is being fucked silly by a friend of mine. Want to hear some more?" He brought the receiver back to the bed.
Mike's face went red with fury. This was no joke, no put on – that was Lisa's voice, there was no mistaking it, although he had never heard her make sounds like that before. What were they doing to her? He had to get out of here, had to get home and help her. He slammed the receiver down, ran out the side door of the bar, flagged down a passing cab.
He gave the address to the driver, sat back in his seat, fingered the cold steel of the pistol nestled in his shoulder holster. He'd show those bastards, he thought. Nobody could do this to him, to his wife – they wouldn't get away with it, not this time. Jail was too good for scum like that, no one would blame him if he killed them all. Probably he wouldn't even be brought to trial. That's what I'll do, he thought, his mind out of control with rage, I'll kill them all.
It was only a few minutes' drive from the Ambassador Hotel to Mike's home in Culver City, and Mike was so enthralled with his thoughts of vengeance that he barely noticed the passing of time. It seemed only a few seconds until the cab pulled up in his driveway, right behind Snyder's black Cadillac limousine. Mike jumped out, paid the driver, and ran to the front door, all thoughts of professional caution thrown aside in the fury of his anger. He pulled the pistol from its holster, burst through the front door, and then fell to his knees as the blackjack crashed down on the back of his neck.
When Mike regained consciousness he found himself on the floor in his wife's bedroom, his back propped up against the wall. He had not been tied up – this surprised him – so he went immediately for his shoulder holster, only to find it empty. The back of his neck hurt like blazes, and there was an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, but other than that he seemed to be all right.
He was all right, that is, until he looked up at the bed. What he saw there give him the shock of his life: his wife, his prim little Lisa, her back arched high in the air, her hips pumping with unbelievable energy, a weird, twisted grin on her face as the strange man above her slammed his dick into her again and again and again. "Oooooooooooohhhhhh," she was screaming, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me MORE! Don't stop, don't ever stop!"
Mike could not believe what he saw, could not believe that the stream of enraptured words he was hearing were really coming from Lisa's own mouth. Feebly he tried to struggle to his feet, but sank back down again as a wave of dizziness struck him. He was helpless, he could do nothing but sit and watch, his mouth gaping open, as his wife went on fucking like a wild animal.
By now her whole body was shaking crazily, her hips driving with the force of a locomotive – it was all her partner could do just to hang on. "Yaaaaaaaaaaa," she screamed finally, her body bucking and heaving, her face contorted into an unrecognizable mask of erotic pleasure, "I'm cummmmmmiiiiiinnnnnnggggg! Oh, God I'mcummmmmmiiiiiiinnnnnng now!"
Mike stared at her in amazement as she and her partner collapsed in a heap together, sighing and panting. Never had Lisa been like this, never! In their whole married life she had never once even approached an orgasm, never, he secretly believed, even knew she had one coming to her; yet here she was, soaked with sweat and thoroughly exhausted after the wildest climax Mike had ever seen. Despite the horror of the scene, Mike found himself becoming aroused, found his prick beginning to swell and crawl down his leg.
"What do you think of that, Lieutenant?" said Snyder, grinning at him. "What do you think of your little prude now? Never thought she could throw such a mean fuck, did you? Maybe all she ever needed was a real man in bed with her, ever think of that?"
Mike was so amazed that he wasn't even able to work up any anger at Snyder's words. Besides, he thought, maybe the bastard's right, maybe it's been my fault all this time, and not Lisa's, maybe if I'd treated her a little better… But no, he could not believe that it had ever been in his power to excite Lisa so, to turn her into this full-blooded, erotic yearning woman. That was the difference, he thought: she was a woman now, and not an overprotected, naive little girl. Mike found that he wanted this woman, this new woman of his, more than he had ever wanted anyone. Not even Cindy, beautiful and exciting as she was, could compare with his wife as he saw her now.
Lisa lay on the bed, felt her desire returning even though she had been so thoroughly satisfied just a moment before. She cast her eyes wildly around the room, looking for another man, another cock she could reach out to. She saw her husband sitting opposite the bed, but his presence didn't register with her; all she cared about was being fucked, being fucked again and again and again until she died of pleasure. She turned over on the bed, thrust her ass into the air, reached back and separated the cheeks with her hands, inviting anyone who pleased to come and take her. Come and get me, she seemed to say; put it anywhere you want, up my ass, in my pussy, anywhere at all, but please, please hurry.