"Enough," Kathy whined as his coming faded.
He drew his thumbs out of her asshole, saw the puckery hole seal itself. Desperately, Kathy pulled up off his shriveling cock. He saw his thick white come oozing from the folds of her pussy. His thumbs felt greasy.
Kathy was slumped on the edge of his bed. His hand rubbed up and down her smooth, naked back. Then, without really thinking about it, he reached around her and cupped one tit tenderly. Kathy pressed his palm against her warm, yielding globe, then took his hand and kissed it. She sniffed his thumb and grinned wickedly at the smell of shit.
Lorraine was lying on her back on Jimmy's bed. He was on top of her, pounding into her cunt. Her eyes were closed, and she was visualizing Angelo's brutal stretching thumbs wrenching Kathy's bung open.
Lorraine was only faintly aware of Jimmy's weight on her. The boy was pounding his prick into her with tireless thrusts. Her cunt was raw from the fuckings it had already taken.
Lorraine's asshole burned as she thought about what Kathy had let Angelo do.
Jimmy slammed against her, pulverizing her cunt. Lorraine writhed under his attack. She spread her knees. Her hips were bouncing and rebounding off the firm mattress, moving in opposition to Jimmy's vigorous thrusts. Her hairy twat slapped against Jimmy's hairless pubis. Their flesh smacked together.
Lorraine rose slowly to a climax-one that would never have existed if it hadn't been for Jimmy's stamina. She imagined Angelo's cock driving into Kathy's shitter. She visualized Kathy's asshole being stretched by Angelo's rigid cock, pictured his brutal prick pumping in and out of Kathy's ass.
Lorraine's coming swept over her like a wave. She felt Jimmy's prick jumping and jerking and twitching as come shot from his prick.
Even after Jimmy's cock had left her cunt, Lorraine felt as if a hot metal bar was filling her channel. She had had too much cock in one night. Her cunt was rubbed raw. She ached.
When she hauled herself off the bed and stood up shakily, she felt come dribbling down the insides of her thighs, down to her stockings. She was hardly aware of Jimmy's exhausted snores, or the door closing as Kathy left the room.
After dressing, Lorraine fled from the room. She hurried down the corridor toward her station, her mind on what she was becoming.
A cradle-robber, that was what she was. Jimmy was eighteen, barely old enough to spurt when he came, and still hairless. And he was dying. And he had been innocent. And she had corrupted him. She felt sick.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In her room in the nurses' quarters, Lorraine stood staring out the window. Smoke from her cigarette stung her eyes. She dragged on it nervously. The glass of Scotch was cold against her naked ribs-she was wearing only her bra and panties, and had one arm defensively across her bare midriff. Beside the ashtray stood the contraband bottle of Scotch. After what she had done already, what did it matter if she violated the ban on booze?
"Hi," Joyce said from the doorway.
"Hi," Lorraine grunted, not turning around.
"God, what a shift!" Joyce sighed. "Ugh! We had two cardiac arrests. I feel like I've been in a pressure cooker."
"Thought you said it was another quiet night."
"It had been, up till then. I need a shower."
Lorraine's gloom-racked mind wondered absently why Joyce showered so much.
"Still haven't fixed the air conditioning, damn it," Joyce complained, coming back into the room. "I think it's a plot by the interns to get a free skin show. Keep standing at that window and you'll have all of them over here with their cocks hanging out. There any yogurt left?"
"Dunno."
"I thought you stopped smoking," Joyce said from the kitchenette. "Hey, you left the ice out."
Half melted cubes tinkled in Lorraine's glass as she took a big swallow of Scotch. It was her second glass… or maybe her third?
"Holy shit! You're drinking!" Joyce said around a mouthful of yogurt.
"Actually, I'm trying to get drunk," Lorraine said bitterly.
"Well, whoopee, let me get out my grass!" Joyce said cheerily. "Miss Ice finally breaks down! Wait'll the rest of the girls hear about this."
Lorraine turned and looked at her roommate. Joyce, wearing only a pair of flowered bikini panties that hugged the mound of her pussy tightly, was looking at Lorraine worriedly.
Joyce's short, straight brown hair was still wet from the shower. It was parted and combed like a boy's. It emphasized the graceful length of her neck, the boyishness of her trim, petite body.
"Hey, you're really crashing, aren't you?" Joyce observed seriously.
Lorraine turned back to the window, and took another swallow of Scotch. Then she reached for the bottle. It slipped from her grasp, tipped over.
"You've had enough," Joyce said, corking the bottle of Scotch and setting it on the floor. Then she gently removed the sodden, half smoked cigarette from Lorraine's hand and added it the pyramid of butts.
Lorraine let herself be herded to the shower.
"When you break, you sure do it up fine," Joyce muttered. "Come on, you need a shower-you smell like a stale fish and Scotch."
"Don' like showers," Lorraine muttered as she was urged over the edge of the tub and under the pounding spray. Her roommate dragged her panties down arid off and then undid the hooks of her bra.
"Get in there," Joyce ordered, giving Lorraine a shove. "I guess another shower won't hurt me, too."
After stripping off her own panties, Joyce stepped into the tub and slid the door closed. Joyce's hands were strong and determined. Lorraine was shoved under the spray, and turned around and around, first one way and then the other. The jet of water spattered her tits, then her ass cheeks and back. When the water ripped over her tits, her nipples stiffened abruptly. The feel of Joyce's firm hands made Lorraine painfully aware of her nakedness.
The spinning and turning was too much for Lorraine's over-loaded stomach suddenly. She threw up. Joyce made a face and stood back out of the way until the spasms passed, then turned Lorraine and let the shower rinse away the foulness. "Christ, as if I didn't have enough on the ward," Joyce grumbled.
"Just let me drown," Lorraine moaned. She tried to sink down so she could sit.
"No, now stand up, damn it," Joyce swore. "Got to get you cleaned up." Taking the soap, she quickly lathered Lorraine's face. "Keep your eyes closed, stupid!"
Lorraine stopped trying to sit down. She let herself be turned so the shower rinsed the soap off her face. Joyce's hands touched her tits, and Lorraine felt a wave of heat sweep through her whole body. Her tits felt like hard pebbles under Joyce's palms. Lorraine felt her tits being molded, squeezed, lifted and pressed.
"God, have you ever got a body!" Joyce murmured. "Makes me drool."
The hands left her tits, and Lorraine felt a surge of disappointment. The pleasant feelings faded. She was turned, and her back was being washed. Then her ass was being massaged by soapy hands. She liked having her ass cheeks pressed and massaged the way her tits had been.
"Look at that ass," Joyce sighed. "Yum! It's no wonder Stern spends half his shift at your station."
Soapy hands slithered between Lorraine's tits stroked the crack of her ass. Another wave of heat surged through her. She remembered Angelo's thumbs parting and plumbing Kathy Dell's asshole, and felt her pussy drooling hotly.
Joyce finished with Lorraine's ass. Lorraine's pleasure faded as the hands slid down her graceful legs.
"Smells like stale fish," Joyce muttered. "Spread your legs."
Lorraine spread her legs eagerly. Joyce's fingers lathered Lorraine's bush. Lorraine was rocked by waves of heat. Her clit was pressed and rolled, and her cunt-lips were parted. Lust flooded through her.