Grace cried out wondrously with every punishing fuck-stroke up into her gratefully accepting young belly. She screwed her tongue into his throat in unison with each new thrust that buried his burning shaft deeper. She pulled her legs back even higher, offering him more and more of her greedily sucking little cunt. Jim glanced downward at his prick, thinking he would go mad unless he came soon, watching his whitely glistening cock slip smoothly and powerfully in and out of her pinkly clasping pussy lips. Quickly, then, in an effort to bring her along even faster, he slipped his hand beneath her buttocks and once again teased at the rhythmically flexing hole of her tiny puckered anus.
"Aaaagghhh… oh, yes… put your finger in… hard!" Grace rotated her ass down hungrily against this new invader, pressing down with her stomach muscles as though she were trying to void something from her bowels, opening the rectum so it could accept even further the lewdly worming digit.
Her first impression was of pain as she felt the palm of his hand flat against her hotly grinding buttocks and the finger immediately sank its full length into her rectal passage and began moving in and out in time with the thrusts of his penis. Then pain became pain-pleasure, then metamorphosed rapidly into pure pleasure. Abruptly she was attempting to skewer the rotating finger to the hilt, shoving back against it at the same time she strained upward to devour more of his warm fabulous hard cock deep into her heaving belly.
Meloney dug mercilessly into her open little anus, his worming finger feeling the hard thrusting flesh of his own cock through the thin membrane separating cunt from rectum. Beneath him the girl writhed in complete abandon. Her motions, together with her guttural croaks of delight and the tightness of her vagina, pushed him over the edge of self control and he knew his orgasm was only seconds away.
"Cum now," he commanded, praying she would obey. "I'm going to cum inside of you. Cum with me…"
Grace hearing the obscene words began grinding up and down on both impaling instruments, her toes flexed and splayed out, her breasts heaving beneath the yellow and black nylon dress, and her sheer nylon clad legs lurching from side to side. Then her eyes opened wide in disbelief as she felt the first beginnings of her second orgasm.
Jim grunted and hammered even deeper as he felt the walls of her vagina seeping the warm, sticky fluid of her climax. With demoniacal strength, she shoved her pelvis suddenly up from the bed, rotating her slightly bearded cunt lips around his pistoning cock with renewed fury. Then she was screaming, "Yes… Oh God… Yes! I'm cumming again. I'm going… to… cum. Cum in me… cum in me… CUM IN ME!"
Grace convulsed beneath Jim Meloney, her mouth and cunt both sucking furiously, her panting rasping breath breaking into great gasping sobs, her pussy clenching and clenching – actually milking him – and her asshole expanding and contracting against his already deeply imbedded finger as though she were trying to pull in finger, hand, wrist and arm.
Jim was spurred on by her continuing climax, and he thrust deeper into her voraciously pulsating vagina and anus, forcing her tortured crotch even wider. Her fucked into her as though his pelvis was a high performance engine suddenly running wide open, without governor, far past the redline and to explode at any second. Then, blessed relief. He gasped as he felt the sudden, surging waves of his boiling white sperm shoot with a roar through the subterranean tunnel from balls to penis, and he was instantly lost in incredible sensuality as powerful surges of his semen spewed deep into the hot dark heart of her womb, filling her hungrily contracting little belly to the bursting point. The walls of her vagina continued to work around his penis as if they were part and parcel of some wonderfully warm milking machine, squeezing, massaging, clasping and unclasping to drain out every wonderful drop of his hotly cascading semen.
Grace's wildly fucked young body suddenly fell back onto the leather couch, her belly still rippling from the aftermath of her galactic upheaval. Never had such bliss been experienced. She was fulfilled completely. She was finally a woman. A warm, feeling experiencing woman. And the abject shame and guilt springing from her adulteress betrayal of her trusting young husband faded into insignificance compared to the satiation which drifted over her like a warm comforting cocoon.
Slowly the cottony fogs of weariness and alcohol began slipping away from her again.
Jim Meloney came back downstairs, dressed now, and thoughtfully looked at the sleeping young girl. She really was something else, he thought, as he picked up her thin nylon panties still moist at the crotchband from her earlier excitement and stuffed them in her purse. He hadn't enjoyed a fuck so much in weeks… maybe even months. What she lacked in experience she more than made up in the tightness and enthusiasm of her seldom-used little cunt.
Grace was only dimly aware of an arm around her waist, of riding in an automobile, and then someone helping her from the car.
"Goodbye, Grace," Jim said. "You were wonderful." He kissed her lightly on the forehead, turned her around, and pointed her toward the apartment complex where she had earlier said she lived.
He watched her weave her way across the lawn and saw her start up the stairs. At the top, she stumbled slightly, stopped and turned as if trying to remember something – then a moment later disappeared from sight.
It would be nice, he thought, to keep that one around for awhile; but to do that would violate a basic philosophy that had stood him in good stead all of his adult life. No one knew better than he, himself, the validity of that philosophy, for Jim Meloney was strictly a 4-F man… "find 'em, feed 'em, fuck 'em, forget 'em." And he would never see Grace Hope again, not if he had anything to say about it.
CHAPTER FOUR
Pain.
Pain!
That was the first thing Grace felt when she awakened next morning to the blaring of her radio alarm clock. Without opening her eyes, she reached blindly over and shut it off.
Her head felt as if someone were using a baseball bat atop her skull. She tried to open her eyes, but the blinding rays of the sun caused her to clench them shut almost immediately. She lay there in torment as her brain gradually began sorting out the various messages it was receiving.
"I'm still dressed," she said to herself, "and I'm on top of the bed."
That was her first cohesive thought. Then, slowly, as if she were viewing a motion picture film in slow motion, the events of the night before began coming back. "I went to the track… I met a man… Jim Meloney… I won some money… I had my photograph taken in the winner's circle… I met a lot of people… I had too much to drink…" The film stopped. It was almost as if her memory were attempting to protect her sensibilities. She actually had to force the mental reproduction of the rest of the evening. Murkily, as if seen through a deep almost impenetrable fog, she saw the vague outlines of Jim Meloney's study… his head between her widespread thighs…
Oh, God… no! Surely that last thought had to be the vague memory of a horrible nightmare, a dirty perverted dream. She forced herself to open her eyes; again the light caused a blinding flash of agony throughout her skull. Unsteadily, she stood, clutching the end of the bed for support. It was a dream. It had to be a dream! But even as she tried to tell herself this, her brain was transmitting the message: You don't have your panties on… and there is a dried crust matting your pubic hair and upper thighs. And with this came additional information – from various nerve centers – a minor amount of pain in her vagina, as though it had been terribly stretched, and a slight discomfort in her rectum where his finger had wormed its way into her nether depths.