I wanted to fuck! I heaved her writhing body onto the floor and rolled after her. She was on ail fours, her large, quivering buttocks raised high. In the center, between the deep cleft of her butt cheeks, a hot, wine-tinted cunt opened and closed with rippling desire. "Hurry, Jack, hurry!!" she moaned hoarsely, panting with desire. "In my ass… fuck me in the ass… fuck me… ooohhhh God! I want that big cock… inside, deep, deep!" Her open butt cheeks rolled wildly, quivering with need.
Planting myself solidly, I slid my fingers into the sweaty crack of those lush, ripe butt cheeks, parted them and guided my cock into the slick, hot furrow and into the center of her flaming core. My cock was literally sucked into the hot, juicy depths of her rippling cunt.
Clutching her fiercely, I fucked her with long, powerful lunges, increasing the tempo after each thrust. Deeper and harder I fucked, the head of my cock sinking into the soft spongy mass of her uterus on each downstroke. The sensation drove me wild!!
The wildness of my lust made my cock move like a piston as it plowed into her with savage speed. On one of those savage out-strokes my cock came out of her cunt and plunged into the orifice of her asshole just above. My cock was buried a full four inches into the tight anal channel before I realized it. The snug tightness was fantastic!!!
"Oh God… don't stop… go on… fuck me in the ass. BUT FUCK ME, YOU BIG BASTARD… OOOOOHHHH… GOD, GOD!!! YES… TM…"
As she screamed out her pleasure I was thrusting deep into the tight, pulsing core of her asshole with savage powerful lunges. I had pumped exactly four times into the creamy depths when I felt my seed gush from the bowels of my scrotum and burst into the well of her anus in great, gushing spurts. They shot deep into her rippling, convulsing asshole just as she shrieked with ecstasy and writhed into the searing lift of a shattering orgasm.
"Jack… JACK… OOOOOWWWWHHH… FUCK… FUCK… COME… HOT CREAM… ALL OF IT… GIVE ME ALLL… AAAAAHHHHGGGG!!"
I must have fainted from the sheer power of the pounding lust that the fuck had produced, because the next thing I knew she was licking my still-erect cock, savoring the come that was beginning to dry up. "Yummy," she whispered hoarsely. Finally she licked her lips and sat up. Gazing at me with sex-glazed eyes she said, "You're some stud, Jack. I haven't been fucked that way for ages. I thought my cunt would be in spasms for a week. Let's don't let that be the last time."
From the look on her face I knew it wouldn't be; after all, she was the boss-lady.
Chapter 3
Two days after my lustful session with Joyce Sherman I got a promotion of sorts. It was in the form of a new apartment for which I paid nothing. George Sherman chuckled as he handed me the keys, an address and a folder describing my next subject.
"You could call it your operating-room,' Jack. In a sense you're a surgeon, and every surgeon needs a well-equipped operating-room," he said jokingly. Happily, he didn't make any corny correlations about my scalpel. I glanced briefly at the synopsis in the dossier on my patient; P.S. Newgate.
As I drove to my new pad I weighed the various causes for my good fortune. It could be Joyce Sherman's way of rewarding me for a good, rousing fuck. Or maybe she and George had been well-pleased with the results I had achieved with Janet Judson. Another possibility came to my rather suspicious mind, also. They might have me slated for some really tough cases.
Thirty minutes after I arrived and inspected the new arena for future conquests, I decided my suspicions about tougher subjects was the correct evaluation. All a guy had to do was to open the door to any broad alive, show her around, feed her a drink and she'd fuck a monkey. The joint made Hugh Hefner's sex castle look like a goddamned monastery cell.
Ankle-deep, wine-red carpeting throughout; an enormous circular water bed; mirrors everywhere, not just above the bed but on the bathroom walls and ceiling, too. A fully stocked bar, a cabinet full of erotic rubber goods that would have made a porno buff orgasm at the sight, and a porno film library containing material hot enough to make Satan blush.
It was the little touches that intrigued me most. Take the inside doorknobs: each was a perfect bronze replica of an erect cock. So was the flushing handle on the toilet. The highball glasses in the small bar were formed like truncated phalluses with bases formed like large testicles. Any female who didn't respond to seduction in this sin-bin should hang it up and turn in her cunt for another asshole.
Still dazed by the wanton lust pervading the place, I was about to fix myself a blast at the bar when the door chimes sounded. Puzzled, I strode across the plush carpeting and opened the door.
She was a twenty-four carat solid sex-symbol, about twenty years old.
"Hi," she murmured, a bit shyly, "Am I early? This is Mr. Manley's place… you are Jack Manley, aren't you?" As nervous as she was, her voice had that rich, husky timbre that voice coaches received thousands in fees to develop in movie starlets being groomed as sex-pots.
"I'm sorry Miss..
"Pamela Newgate, but under the circumstances
'Pam' will do just fine," she said. "Joyce Sherman told me to be here at seven sharp. You are Mr. Manley?"
"Yes,… please come in, Pam," I said warmly. 'I'm afraid Joyce failed to brief me completely, but with you we'll play it by feel."
It had suddenly dawned on me that this materialization from a wet dream was P.S. Newgate, my next subject. From the dossier I'd received, I had gotten the impression she was an over-muscled, undersexed gymnast. In my mind I'd conjured up a three-hundred-pound female ape. Instead I found myself gazing at a veritable sex-goddess. Jesus, what a succulent hunk of cunt.
Sparkling blue-violet eyes with long, platinum-colored lashes were set perfectly on either side of a perfectly shaped nose that ended in slightly flared nostrils. Below that perfect nose two full, velvety soft lips bisected the bottom third of a heart-shaped face. Two rows of perfect white teeth gleamed between those luscious lips.
And the hair! A natural platinum that caught every light ray. It was thick, lustrous and long, hanging like a shimmering cascade down to her waist. Two heavy, lush breasts jutted like succulent, flesh melons straining against the thin nylon of her tank-top blouse. Two ripe nipples were clearly defined at the crest of each lush mound. As I motioned her inside they moved heavily; rolling and jouncing with that free movement denoting the absence of a bra.
As she preceded me into the circular living room/bedroom combination, my cock began to swell as a result of my visual inventory. As my eyes continued their cataloging my hard-cn grew to full maturity.
Her white-gold hair hung down a perfectly shaped supple back and narrow waist. The waist flared into two of the most magnificent buttocks God ever created. No, the devil must have made these lustful, undulating butt cheeks. With each lithe, swaying step these full, rounded buttocks moved up and down heavily, grinding against each other in a rolling symphony of raw, pagan lust. Again, no panties, because the hip huggers molded to these mouth-watering buttocks weren't loose enough to hide telltale panty ridges. This luscious hunk of cunt wasn't wearing underclothes! That was odd for someone who supposedly was inhibited.
"Pam, please make yourself at home. Relax and TU fix us a little toddy," I said, trying to set a comfortable and relaxing mood.
"Thanks, Mr. Manley. I don't drink, ordinarily, but I guess progress would be enhanced if I had something."
"Why not start by calling me Jack? And your progress won't depend on booze. I think I can fix you something you will actually enjoy; mostly because it doesn't taste like hard liquor." I fixed myself a Scotch and mixed her a Pernod cocktail. Pernod tastes like licorice soda pop but strikes like a cobra, after the third belt.