She staggered out of the clubhouse and winced bleary-eyed in the glaring sun. Doc Watson's demanding voice had been silent after Griz fucked her the first time. The long silence was a torment of curiosity.
Halfway through the fuck-frenzy, Griz had declared Rita's pussy too wet and worn out to be worth fucking. They turned her over, chained her face-down on the table and reamed her ass for the next round.
Honey had happily licked and sucked a flood of spent cum from both ends when the men were through. Then she gave Rita back her mink coat and escorted her to her car. Rough men leered all along the way, but none dared to touch anyone with a member of the notorious motorcycle gang. They ruled the streets for blocks around.
Rita sank into the driver's seat with a thankful sigh and bundled warm mink around a naked body still trembling with the aftershocks of one climax right after another. Still the necklace remained slack around her neck, the earpiece silent.
She began to hope that Doc Watson had satisfied his crazed hunger for revenge. Rita turned on the key and gunned her car's engine to life. She winced at its roar, expecting Doc's voice to give her directions. He said nothing.
She sighed and started off, turning the car toward her hilltop home. Still nothing. Her breathing returned to normal. Doc knew that because he was listening intently, remaining silent because he'd made a study of torture methods while in prison. He had learned that letting a victim get her hope up before snatching them away again could be exquisitely painful.
She drove four miles down Front Street, out of the decaying slum and into the Marina Park Plaza-a development of exclusive and expensive waterfront condominiums, office towers and fine specialty shops. It was the city's most impressive and sought-after address.
"Turn left at the next corner," Doc whimpered softly.
"Rita jumped and squirmed in her seat as though a dull nail had punctuated her eardrum, "You!" she hissed in frustration.
"Turn left," he repeated. "Into the parking garage for Number One, Park Marina Drive.” "That's where Benton lives! I can't bear to face him after he heard me begging for cock.” "He doesn't want to see you either, that's why I'm taking you there. Pull into his guest parking slot and get out of the car.” "You've already ruined my plans for a marvelous marriage, isn't that enough?” "I'm going to show you that it wouldn't have been such a marvelous marriage after all. Get out of the car and into his private penthouse elevator. We're going to give Mr. Benton Stanhope the surprise of his life!”
Rita's female curiosity had been piqued, but she said, "Sorry, Doc… there's no way we can surprise him. The elevator to the penthouse is electronically controlled. Unless you have a magnetic key that looks like a credit card, you have to call upstairs and ask to have the elevator sent down.” "I know that's how it's supposed to work. I designed the circuits more than twenty years ago. Just bend down and put your earpiece near the key slot, I'll transmit the proper signal.”
She bent down, pressed her plugged ear to the slot and heard a warbling noise of beeps and hums. A second later, the door to the elevator slid open. Rita stepped inside, more curious now than ever. The lavishly appointed elevator hummed skyward. It would have to rise twenty-eight floors.
"I had Benton's penthouse bugged when I first read about your relationship in the society gossip columns," Doc said.
Rita moaned as the elevator rose higher, thinking of all she'd said and done in Benton's penthouse suite, knowing now that Doc Watson had listened to it all.
"Would you like to hear what's going on there now?" asked the voice in her ear.
"No, not really. I think it's terrible to eavesdrop on private conversations!” "Worse than sending a man to prison on false charges?" Doc laughed. "You have a quite befuddled moral code." He made the necessary connections and patched sounds from the penthouse into Rita's ear.
She heard Benton say, "What a delicious cunt you have! So sweet and juicy! So clinging tight on my tongue. Hhhmmmm!”
Rita fumed. "That bastard! Our engagement has only been broken a few hours, and he's sucking out some other cunt already?” "You make my prick harder than Rita ever could," Benton said fondly. "And you like having your pussy eaten by a man, don't you?” "Yyyeeessss!" shrilled a female voice so tense it came as hissing static in Rita's ear.
"He never ate my cunt," Rita complained.
"Hers is younger, tighter and tastes much better," Doc said. "He was eating and fucking her for a month before your engagement was announced.
"That lecherous bastard!”
Stanhope's voice said in her ear, "What the hell? I hear the elevator, and you're the only one I've ever wanted enough to give the key to.”
Rita's smoldering rage increased. That was true. Even when they became engaged, Benton hadn't allowed her to have a plastic card key. Now she knew why-so she could never surprise him with his younger love.
The private elevator hissed to a stop in the penthouse suite. The ornate door slid open and Rita stormed out in a fury of jealous rage. Ben-ton Stanhope was just coming out of the bedroom, belting his silk robe and trying to conceal an outrageously stiff cock.
"Rita!" he gasped in surprise. "What are you doing here?” "I just dropped by to return your engagement ring," she said coldly, still fuming and straining to work the sparkling diamond off the third finger of her left hand.
He said, "No, wait! I was too hasty. I still want us to get married next month as planned.” "Ooooh?" After what she'd heard in the elevator, that seemed strange.
Benton read the doubting look in her eyes and said, "Well, let's face it… we've been talking mostly about a marriage of convenience. You want the power and prestige of an old and well-respected family name, and I want to merge your electronics plant into Stanhope Industries.” "Who's going to perform the ceremony, a minister or our corporate lawyers?” "Rita, that's the way life works at this level. I know your husband ran things until he died, but you've been in charge long enough now to know-” "To know that you want to marry me and go on sucking and fucking some younger cunt that makes your cock harder than I ever could?”
Benton's face paled. "How-how can you possibly know about that?”
Rita smiled and tapped the molded earpiece hidden under waves of tawny red-golden hair. "Let's just say that a little bird told me.” "The same little bird that let me hear you begging to fuck a whole motorcycle gang?”
Doc was laughing softly in Rita's ear, delighted by the crisis he'd created. There was no need to direct her now. Female jealousy would fashion a scene more interesting than any he could have contrived.
"They did things to me that your puny dick never could!” "My puny dick? Does this look puny to you?" Benton pulled open the front of his robe. An eight-inch blue-veined boner leaped out and twanged up and down.
"Respectable, but not inspiring," she said with complete indifference. Any other time, Rita would have climbed all over a cock that big and hard. But, thoroughly sated by Griz and the horny members of his motorcycle gang, she could now remain aloof. "I'd rather see the sexy young cunt that got your prick that hard.”
Rita pushed by him to enter the bedroom.
"No, Rita!" He grabbed her arm and yanked her back just as her hand touched the knob of the closed door. Benton whirled her back to face him. "Don't go in there!”
That sudden show of strength excited her more than all the polished manners of their formal courtship. Rita gasped, smiled slyly. "Why not? We're only talking about a marriage of convenience. Why shouldn't I meet your young friend? I'd like to suck a cunt clever enough to make your cock that hard.” "Some other time," he answered vaguely. "Right now it's you I want!”
Benton Stanhope was tall, silver-haired and distinguished. He was also deceptively strong. Rita learned that when he locked his arms around her. It was the first time he'd shown real passion. The veneer of poise and respectability was gone. He pushed her roughly toward a couch set against a picture window overlooking the bay.