"Stop, Marc!" Diane mewled, "Oh no… no… no!" She squirmed away from his grip. "I don't know what we can do about… about that… outside, but it can't be this! I'm not some… some slut you can… can take at will."
"I know you're not, Diane," Cord breathed into her ear as he closed in again, his hand returning to her waist as he drew her to him with powerful arms once more. "But I plan to repay your husband's generosity in the best way possible."
His hands began to fondle the tight, cloth-encased cheeks of Diane's buttocks. Momentarily she struggled, but then she realized the total futility of the situation. She couldn't scream, couldn't run… He kissed her hotly, and his right hand came up from her hips and massively closed over her still exposed right breast, absorbing its cool, full flesh as though she were a budding child.
"Oh… oh… oh…!" she cried, suddenly alive with livid sensations. His hands, his tongue, his whole enveloping body began to enflame her, and she gasped from the wantonness and craving which was rapidly overtaking her. Marc's hand traveled teasingly over her whole body, touching her breast, her stomach, her thigh… her inner thigh… then the narrow secretion band of her suit bottom. Yes! Yes! Oh God, his fingers felt good; they were so soft and warm and agonizingly close!
A low purring of arousal escaped from her lips, and she breathed heavily, the blood hotly coursing through her veins. Cord smiled down at her, and then began to lead her gently away from the window and back to the couch. "Yes, baby, yes," he crooned. "We're going to really make it."
Gently, he pushed her down on her back on the couch, and she rubbed her legs along the cushions, undulating her thighs from the building passion. She raised her arms to Marc in almost drugged supplication, and he in turn kneeled beside her. His searing mouth and tongue pressed hard against her pliant, now-willing lips. His hands continued to play along her skin, slipping up and down her inner thigh, brushing against the burning, vibrant mound of her soft, young pussy.
"Oh, Marc… oh Marc, please don't… ohhhhhhh!" she moaned. His fingers slipped up inside the narrow leg band of her bathing suit, and she cringed at the devilish touch. Her mind tried to preserve the vestiges of her principles, her concepts of morality, even as her body betrayed her with prurient desire.
Then Cord, unheeding her final, weakened pleas of mercy, fingered the rich valley of her cunt, stroking the hair-covered ridges and burrowing deep to slide around the already blood-engorged clitoris. She involuntarily raised her hips, rotating her sex-hungered thighs in helpful deliberation, spreading her legs so he could wander between her thighs at will. Her arms were wrapped around his neck tightly and she whimpered into his ear, trailing hot, moist kisses across his face while slowly, surely, he insinuated his teasing fingers into the moist folds of her warm, slavering vaginal orifice.
Oh… God… this… this is wrong… all wrong! her brain screamed to her, but caught in the emotional agony of sensual desire, she could only groan and bite her lip. Cord parted the sensitive slit of her cunt and teased the soft, surrounding pubic hair as he made sudden, ecstatic contact with her throbbing clitoris. Diane sensed her own deep wetness from her unwanted passion and the electrifying shock of his caresses. He began to remove her suit pants, to edge them down over her full, well shaped thighs and hips, to worm insidiously the last defense from her deliriously pulsating pussy. Abruptly, the cool air upon the pubic hair of her groin triggered the last defiant rejection of his maddening probe.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she cried, thrusting her hands against his heavy chest and writhing and kicking, trying to push him away. "Oh, for God's sake, get off me! Let me up!"
"Goddamn it!" Marc pressed tighter, refusing to remove his middle finger and continuing the outrageous rampage of her tender, sensorial cunt. "It's too late for us to stop, baby. I've tried to be patient with you, to make it nice and enjoyable, but one way or the other I'm going to do just what I said. I'm going to fuck you, baby." He leered hotly down at her, eyes flashing with the uncontrollable lust of sexual frenzy. "Your husband's out there fucking my wife, and if you don't cooperate in return, baby, I'll fire him on the spot. Understand? You and I get together, and Roger will get his promotion, but if you don't…"
His threat was clear to Diane in spite of her confused, liquor-dazed mind. She realized that she was in a horrible mess, with no way out. There was nothing she could do, nothing… oh Roger, Roger, what shall I do? Tears of humiliation and debasement showered down her face, and with sudden revulsion she realized that in her helplessness her hips were once more grinding up in response to the tantalizing play of Marc's maddening finger reinserted inside her vagina. Her lower torso reacted uncontrollably to his ministrations in a cadence with her quivering clitoris and wet, writhing vaginal slit.
"Make up your mind!" he said suddenly. "What's it going to be?"
Her reply caught in her throat. If she cooperated, he could take any indecent and licentious liberties with her she rationalized… but at least Roger would have his position secured. And then… maybe after some time had passed, she could repair the damage of their lives and this would be forgotten in the passages of their future happiness. But dear God, if Marc should fire him as he promised… well, she hated to think what that would do to Roger, to the two of them, to whatever they might have left. "Oh… oh… yes, yes I'll do it!" she hissed between clenched teeth, her body surrendering completely.
Cord smiled triumphantly to himself and moved his bronzed body farther over her, and kissed her hotly, his giant tongue slipping deeply inside her mouth as his hand caressed her now wide open loins. Diane moaned beneath him, fighting vainly to maintain control of her body as the electrifying jolts of his massaging fingers began to seethe through her very essence. She felt him raise her up and unclip the brassiere snap, and closing her eyes she hunched her shoulders in automatic assistance. And then he removed the bathing suit halter and lowered it to the floor. Her throbbing alabaster breasts with their distended nipples were completely exposed and with an appreciative gasp, Marc rolled his hands over them, kneading and squeezing the nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Then his slavering lips encompassed one aureole, his tongue flicking and rolling the jewel-hard nipple maddeningly.
"I'm going to make you naked all the way now, baby," he said throatily. "Help me."
Diane clenched her eyes tightly shut in lewd surrender and raised her hips, and strained her back as he slid the last sheath of suit down over her writhing buttocks. It was suddenly as if bonds had been dropped from her body, for the feeling of being totally naked before the hungry eyes of a strange man was both deliciously decadent and wonderfully evil. Unconsciously she flexed her warm, damp pussy toward the cool air, and her pubic hair almost stretched from its imprisonment inside the suit. She played her hands down her sides with abandonment, mewling and sighing with abject licentiousness. She spread her ivory columned legs and tightened her stomach muscles, her eyes still mercifully shut to her shameless actions.
Oh Roger… oh Roger… can you ever forgive me… And then came the flashing realization that she had nothing to apologize for to Roger, not as long as he was… was fucking… that word! But yes, it was fucking she meant… fucking that woman outside. She opened her eyes and stared at the man above her, then widened them still further as she realized he had removed his own bathing suit. He was standing over her, a salacious grin twisting his features, his hand stroking the heavy, uncircumcised foreskin of his corpulent, blood-pumped penis back and forth over the hard, bulbous head. Good God! No woman could take all that! It would rip her insides open!