A strange look came over the naked girl's face, and a low ecstatic moan trembled from her lips. Involuntarily, her oil-gleaming buttocks began to undulate, and from the pleased expressions on the men's faces, she obviously was clenching fist-like with her cuntal and anal muscles at the hard, lust-driven rods of flesh pummeling into her.
"Jesus Christ," a man's voice whispered, softly, but everyone in the room heard him, "Jesus, she likes it!"
"Likes it?" another male voice retorted, "hell, she loves it! Look at the fucking bitch!"
Nancy heard the obscene comments and it intensified the wild sensations which were growing inside her belly. Winces of pain on her sweat-streaked young face were being replaced by rapturous moans. "Oh God, fuck it, fuck it, pleeeezzz…" she grunted thickly to each continuing thrust they made into her heatedly quivering cunt and anus. Her expression soon became ecstatic, and she obviously enjoyed hearing her own lewd implorings. Indeed, the words coming from one so beautiful were doubly arousing to the audience as well. Everyone in the room wanted to see this elegant girl humiliated even further; both men and women wanted to see and hear her beg for it.
Herman and Ben went wild at her words, thrusting into her without mercy, yet she fucked them back with the same wildness for every stroke they rammed into her, until all three began to moan in strange unintelligible cries of endless sexual abandon.
The room was going wild now. People pressed around the small stage, crawling up onto it and putting their hands on her oil-coated body again. Fingers slipped and slid over her lush young breasts that danced and trembled beneath her kneeling body as she bucked and writhed in complete abandon. Hands caressed her body wherever they could and Nancy threw back her head and moaned. "Aaaaahhh! God, yes! I can feel your cocks fucking into me! Split me! Hurt meeee! God, hurt meeee! Oh God, keep fucking… keep fucking… keep fucking… keep fucking!!" she cried out, egging them on now, as the wildly ecstatic sensations of lewd pleasure became too much for her and shorted out her reason and inhibitions. Hands were all over her nakedly voluptuous body… on and on it went in an insanely rising crescendo… the hungry fingers playing like lecherous insects all over her firm young flesh… the merciless fucking she was receiving in wildly palpitating cunt and rectum from above and below… and suddenly, out of the shadows, there was a hotly throbbing cock brushing across her lips… cocks were all around her… penises were jerking and exploding white hot cum all over her oiled body. Her eyes closed in masochistic glee. This was the final obscene humiliation as she felt jets of warmly foaming sperm shooting all over her as other hands caressed her obscenely.
"Fill me! Now! Oh God fill me now with your cum! Shoot it into me together!" she wailed like a lost banshee, as she writhed and undulated between the chauffeur and bodyguard like a belly dancer gone mad.
Then the three of them were writhing wildly and shouting obscene pleas at each other, and she felt a hot boiling river of sperm shoot deep up into her rectum as her own orgasm rippled over her, sending unfathomable sensations of feeling jetting through her. The convulsing young girl could feel every throbbing pulsation of the madly jerking cocks inside her as both of them were now spewing out their white hot cum deeply into her rectum and boiling cunt.
She crouched over the chauffeur's powerful body, still thrusting his huge cock up into her rejoicing young cunt, and let Ben fill her bowels with his hot sperm until it overflowed and ran down between her quivering ass cheeks to splash against Herman's balls below. Her face twisted in an almost insane convulsion of ecstasy that overwhelmed her and made her go limp.
But it was far from over. She was gasping for air and utterly limp as Ben pulled painfully out of her sperm-filled anus and fell away. The wild hands of a dozen strangers were pulling her off Herman who was moaning below her. The room was a scene out of a Roman history book as some one held Nancy's still delirious face in his hands. Sadistically, a look of triumph on his face, he rammed his heatedly pulsating cock in the young girl's relaxed, half-open mouth.
Greedily, her full sensuous lips wrapped around the head, and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the strange penis. The man held her head in place as he began viciously fucking in and out of her mouth while Nancy sucked with an all-too-evident hunger. Men pushed one another aside to fuck her in her battered young cunt and rectum. Hands slid all over her oil-slippery body as they fought to grasp her… and some of the hands belonged to women!
In the middle of all this sat Fred Hartman, smiling slightly, coldly watching the complete and utter debasement of a beautiful young girl named Nancy Dodge…
CHAPTER THREE
The sky in the east was streaked with the first tentative light of a new day, and Fred Hartman's estate was outlined in cold gray early morning light. People, their faces haggard and puffy, straggled to their parked cars. Their feet crunched over the gravel as they yawned mightily and rubbed their bloodshot eyes.
Two men about to get in a car stopped and nudged one another. They watched, their stares impudent, their smiles brazen as they saw Nancy Dodge hurry to her car. She walked quickly, her head down, nervously fingering her car keys. The men watched her flaring hips undulate and they could plainly see her lovely buttocks seductively swaying under her dress.
One of the men started to say something but the other one touched his arm and shook his head. "Another time. You had enough."
"Yeah, but I want her name."
"Another time. I'm beat. Another time. There'll be another time."
The first man grinned and slumped down into the car, still watching Nancy as she hurried to her car. "Yeah," he agreed, grinning. "Man, she sure was something. I don't think I've ever had a better blow job."
"Nothing wrong with her asshole, either."
Nancy, hearing them, got in her car. Her lovely young face was crimson as she stared straight ahead and drove off the tree lined estate to turn onto one of the many highways leading into Chicago.
Only when she was several miles from Fred Hartman's place could she heave a weary sigh of relaxation. She settled back in her seat, driving easily with one hand while she lighted herself a cigarette with the other. She inhaled deeply on the cigarette, feeling it relax her. Her body was sore all over, and she was so tired she worried about keeping awake and driving until she got home. Driving along the highway, she looked like a lovely young woman, completely composed, on her way to some early morning errand.
But she was far from composed.
In the past three months, her life had changed so much that even she couldn't believe it. It seemed unreal to her… as if it were happening to someone else. Three months ago she didn't know Fred Hartman… or Tom Nelson. Three months ago Rita Nelson was her old friend who was newly married to Tom and drinking too much. Three months ago she, herself, seldom drank. Now… the first thing she would do upon getting home was to have a few stiff ones.
It would be a few drinks just to loosen up. And later… it would be quite a few drinks in order to get to sleep.
Nancy drove fast, smoking quickly and lighting another cigarette after stubbing the first one out. Vaguely, uneasily, she thought of committing suicide. She didn't like to think too much about it or openly admit it to herself, for she was afraid she might do it. She was afraid that she was going to take her own life. She even had a secret supply of sleeping pills stocked up. She had them in a little plastic bottle and, after she had drunk enough, she would find them, take them out, look at them and rattle them in the bottle.
Suicide seemed like the only way out.
Sometimes, especially after starring in one of Fred Hartman's shows, she thought of suicide and felt it was the only way she was going to get away from him and this double life she was leading.
Sometimes it was the double life, the modern, female, Jekyll and Hyde existence that got to her. She felt she was a split personality, a schizophrenic. At home, with Allan, her husband, she was one kind of person. And… when Fred Hartman or Tom Nelson called… she was someone else. With Allan, she was genteel and her elegant cool looks were just right when they were having people over. At home with Allan she was witty and the proper hostess. Then… when Allan was at work, at the bank… and the phone would ring…