Mr. Tucker continued to express appreciation loudly. Stopping suddenly in front of him, I exclaimed:
"My skirt's too tight to dance in. If it wasn't for that, I'd show you some real dancing!"
"Take it off!" roared Mr. Tucker, raising instantly to the bait.
"Oooooh! That would be naughty!" I answered opening my eyes widely in shocked disapproval.
"Take it off!" cried Mr. Tucker again, his face fairly glowing with anticipation. Putting his hand in his pocket, he withdrew a five pound nQte and laid it on the table. "Take it off, and the money's yours!"
"Oooooh!" I repeated, 'Let you see me in my panties? Why, that's as bad almost as being naked!"
"Be a sport, Eedy!" begged Mr. Tucker, almost beside himself, and a second note was laid beside the first one.
"Well …" I said, doubtfully, "It's awfully naughty, but if you'll promise never, never to tell anyone … ?"
"Of course we won't tell!" shouted Mr. Tucker.
I took the money from the table and brazenly slipped it inside my stocking. I was going to need that money shortly, and felt that I was well entitled to it. Vernon arose from his chair, stepped into the dining room and signaled furiously to me to follow him. I pretended not to
see 4iis motions, and he remained standing in the door.
With simulated bashfulness, and encouraged on by the ecstatic Mr. Tucker, I unhooked my dress and drew it off.
He clapped his hands and shouted his appreciation drunkenly, vowing that I was the "cutest little girl" he had ever laid eyes on. With my hands on my hips, I began to weave about, as I had seen girls do in some of the vulgar shows Mr. Tucker had taken us to. My husband stood as though turned to stone till I came near him in one of my evolutions and then he whispered hoarsely:
"Eedy, you're drunk! You're making a spectacle of yourself! Put on your clothes! I'll get George away without hurting his feelings."
Heedless of his admonitions, I continued my writhings and undulations frenziedly applauded by Mr. Tucker, until breathless, I sat down on his accommodating knee. I handed him a glass of liquor which he took with trembling fingers and drained at a single gulp. He appeared to be completely oblivious to my husband's presence and probably nothing was lacking now to bring the drama to its conclusion but to permit him to follow his own drunken inclinations. He set the glass back on the table and I relaxed loosely in his arms, my hair against his cheek.
His arms tightened around me and I felt one of his hands slipping up under the brassiere which covered my breasts. It closed over one of them, and I slipped reprovingly:
"Bad, bad man! Feeling Eedy titties again and making her want to do something naughty!"
His other hand was working convulsively with the flesh of my bare thigh. Emboldened by the words, he slipped it inside my panties and for and for the first time in my life I felt the hand of a man, other than my husband, touching my sexual parts.
"Aaaah!" I breathed, shivering involuntarily.
Vernon was still leaning rigidly against the door. His face was the color of a brick and he looked as though he was suffocating.
Revenge! Revenge for my ruined girlhood, the blasting of my illusions, the months of privation!
I squeezed closer to Mr. Tucker, wriggled and squirmed as though his coarse fingering was causing me the most exquisite pleasure. Sacrificing the last instinct of modesty, subordinating the instinctive repulsion I felt for the man, I placed my hand over the bulky swelling in the front of his trousers. It responded to my touch with powerful throbs. However, limited Mr. Tucker's cultural and educational qualifications he was certainly not lacking in physical vigor. Drunk as he was, he was entirely alive and responsive sexually. Accommodating myself upon his lap in such a position that every movement was visible to my husband, I unbuttoned his pants, put my hand inside and took his thing out. Almost involuntarily I uttered an exclamation of surprise when I saw its dimensions. Nature had endowed him generously indeed, it was fully twice the size of my husband's and as I had never seen any other man's but his in its erected state, I was more than startled. Despite the aversion I felt toward the man, the sight and feel of it, as it jumped and throbbed in my fingers, inspired me with a strange feeling of . . . oh, I don't know how to express it … a tingling, trembly sensation that went all through me.
I recovered quickly from my momentary confusion and then, in plain sight of my stupified husband, whose eyes were fixed glaringly upon me, I began to fondle and toy with it. I pulled the white foreskin down until the big, cherry shaped head stuck out nakedly. I tickled it with my finger-tips, squeezed it and played with it until some big drops of limpid moisture appeared and rolled down the side. And at the same time I shivered and moaned and pressed my thighs together as if I wanted to do something so bad I could hardly wait.
Mr. Tucker had succeeded in unfastening my brassiere, and had uncovered my breasts. He put his mouth on one of them and while he sucked at the nipple he squeezed and massaged the other one with his hand. And at the same time his other hand was engaged in a rough manipulation of my sexual parts. He even stuck his finger up inside as far as it would go, and while I writhed and twisted on his lap he worked it in and out. I stole a surreptitious glance at my husband. He was still standing motionless, frozen.
What were his thoughts as he stood there watching another man fingering his wife's genitals while she, in an apparently half drunken but ardent frenzy, caressed and manipulated his sexual organs?
Only he could have told.
Trembling with anticipation I prepared for the final culminating gesture.
Gripping Mr. Tucker's thing firmly, I began to jiggle it violently, and exclaimed with passionate abandon:
"Oh, George! I can't wait a second longer! Quick! Fuck me!"
Jumping from his knees, I tore off my panties, and without so much as a glance toward my petrified husband, I threw myself on the floor in front of Mr. Tucker and opened my legs widely.
"Sure, I'll fuck you, girlie!" he answered thickly and without even waiting to remove his trousers, he stumbled toward me and fell upon his knees between my outstretched legs. I felt his thing punching clumsily against me and I took the thumping jerking thing in my hand and put the head in the right place. I feared that because of its size it was going to hurt me dreadfully and steeled myself for the ordeal. But Nature appears to have provided for such eventualities, imparting to the female a pecular elasticity and almost before I realized it the whole thing was insde.
I sensed an extreme tightness, my flesh was expanded to the limit of its elastical capacity, but there was no pain. And the next instant, I felt it. working back and forth.
Nothing now remained, except to stage an exhibition, such as would leave no doubt in my husband's mind that I was enjoying sexual pleasure with this man greater than any I had ever experienced with him. Toward this end, I kicked up my legs, moaned, sighed, shivered, wriggled, and undulated my hips with simulated ardor, keeping up the meanwhile a series of excited exhortations and exclamations such as: "Oh, it's good! . . . Push harder, Georgie! . . . Oh, stick it clear in! . . . like that! . . . Oh, how delicious! . . . Further in! . . . Clear in! . . . Harder! . . . Harder! …"
My cries and exclamations excited the man to an insane frenzy, and soon his distended eyes and gasping breath told me that the end was not far off. Abruptly, he slipped his hands under my bottom, and raising me from the floor, almost tranfixed me with the last, fulminating thrusts of his rigid weapon.
A hot, wet stream suddenly flooded my in-sides. It was ejected with such force that I felt each distinct spurt as it stuck my womb. Some of the burning stuff escaped, and ran down between my thighs.