Paula awoke, feeling very good. She had a few scratches that hurt but her hearing had returned and she felt comfortable, lazy and, well, sexy. She lay naked under a blanket in a motel room. She had only the vaguest idea as to how she got here. But a handsome young man sat by the bedside staring down at her anxiously. She smiled at him and lifted her arms.
"Paula, you know I'm not-Richard. Your husband or whoever."
Somehow the fleeing, her meeting Verne, the explosion, had turned things around for her. She no longer felt harrassed, stunned, imprisoned. She just felt good-and sexy.
"I know. You're Verne, the hitchhiker, and I like you very much and I want to be kissed."
He kissed her tentatively and she felt the flames rush up her body. She made her lips soft, opened her mouth and used her tongue. Verne gasped. She reached down for his cock. It wasn't a Paula-act but she didn't quite feel like Paula any more. She felt open, alert and in control of her destiny.
She got her hands inside his pants and felt his sexy cock start to harden. She jogged it gently in her hand, kissing.
"Paula, I wouldn't want you to think I'm interested in your money. Not totally. I mean-" She cut him off: "It's nothing."
All her life Paula had been the sex servant of her men. Her early lovers, then Richard. And finally that gruesome DA investigator, Roy. Now for the first time she felt in charge, potent. Maybe it was the series of shocks she'd had beginning with Richard's death and ending with the explosion. It made her feel that repuation, life itself was fleeting, chancey. The deep, warm feeling of sex, that you remembered.
She watched Verne undress and boldly played with her cunt with one hand and rubbed her sensitive nipples with the other. She gave in to the hot fires of her rising passion in a way she'd never been able to do before.
Verne stood naked before her and stared down at her naked body and her lascivious love of herself. He rolled his eyes in appreciation.
"The money has nothing to do-" he began.
"Forget money, Verne. I have plenty. It means nothing." She opened her arms.
But as he came down on her with his beautiful cock jutting, she felt a prick of a new excitement.
"Fuck my ass, Verne."
"What?"
"Turn me over. Stick your cock up my ass. It turns me on like crazy. You can cunt-fuck me later."
She slid around on her stomach, smiling up at him, seductive, actually flicking her pink tongue. She presented her ass.
Like all highly sexed young men, Verne had always dreamed of fucking into some girl's ass. A guy got curious. And what an ass Paula had. Beautifully shaped, smooth-skinned, supple. He hesitated a second and then mounted her. He pulled apart her buttocks while she crooned in anticipatory excitement. He saw the delicate pink lline of her cunt, and the rounded pucker of her asshole, two inches above. He spread her legs and took a deep breath. Imagine having permission to violate both holes of a beautiful woman like this! Verne suddenly realized that his luck had run full tide.
He dug his cock head into the gleam of Paula's cunt and then bathed her sphincter with her slippery honey. That felt fabulous, again, and again.
Then he got a hand under her soft, sexy belly and dug his cock into her ass pucker, liberally wetted with her cunt juice.
"Ahhh, 'God!" she went. She gave an animal grunt. She forced herself to relax her sphincter and felt his prick enter her with far less distress than the rude Roy had caused her. In fact, it was very exciting to feel the prick violation. Immediately his cock meat began to stimulate the mucous membranes that Roy had trained so well lately.
Sweet rushes surged up her body and she kept gasping and bucking against his cock to get more meat up her tight tail. Verne's eyes bugged out in the sexy sight he saw. Her sphincter swelled and swelled for his cock, expanding incredibly, and he could watch his prick invade her body even as he felt the warmth, the wetness, the sexy friction.
"I'm assfucked!" she cried happily. "You're making my glory hole."
H-laughed and relaxed. Why, assfucking was a new thrill, different and very sexy! Those firmsoft buttocks smoothed on his belly and thighs and tensed and relaxed to make a stronger sensation of fucking into a woman than he'd ever felt before.
"Ah, ooooo, so deeeeep." she chanted. Her tissues thrilled and thrilled as she realized his cock was smaller than Roy's and perfect for her narrow passage. She rocked and rocked, enjoying the mad pleasure of her insanity. He wasn't trained enough to tease her cunt, but she did that for herself, reaching down to stroke her clit and then her fires really burned. She jerked and writhed under him.
"Oh, Verne, you're fucking me crazy. Taaaaaaaaaaaking meeeeeee."
Up, up to glory, and she felt him pick up the steady rhythm as he gave in to the delights of his prick and reamed her masterfully.
"Hah. Hot woman. Hot biiiitch," he breathed, speeding his action.
She clung to those golden moments, rising, rising from one joy filled plateau to the next, each one hotter, more tense. His cock pierced the innermost recesses of her being, and he whipped her to an absolute frenzy. The bed shook, the obscene sounds of prick reaming asshole thrilled her even more.
"Oh, now. Oh, now. NOWWWW! she cried at last.
As she tensed under him, Verne felt like the king of the world. His woman jerked, gasped, keened in a happy-torture voice and began to surrender. Her asshole clipped his cock as firmly as her cunt would have. He gave a great cry of joy. "GO-ING!" he sang.
Boiling jism leaped out from his molten belly to spurt deep in her guts. She throbbed and jerked and cooed. He gripped her in a death grasp and seeded her deeply, gush after gush of relieving, hot come flushed into her body.
"Baby, you know all the tricks," he said lovingly as they relaxed to enjoy the afterglow of their pleasure, still fuck-locked and hugging.
"We've got all night to explore some more," she said happily, drowsily. For the first time in her entire life, Paula felt like an open, mature woman, fully realized sexually…
They made love several more times that night and both fell asleep like two happy children who'd enjoyed super fantasies in real life.
Their awakening was far different. Verne felt a hand shaking his shoulder and when he came out of the drug of sleep he found himself staring into a barrel of a revolver.
"I arrest you for conspiracy in grand theft and for murder," said Roy Switzer, who held the gun.
"Oh, hullo, Amy," said Paul awakening.
Amy, standing behind Roy, said: "So you did have your husband killed."
"Jesus," said Verne. "What have I gotten into?"
"Son," said Roy, "you're into something so bad that it makes terminal cancer look like a slap on the wrist."
At the time of the explosion, Amy and Roy sat in the rental car grinning wickedly at Paula. Roy had used the rental car for fear that Paula would recognize his and Amy's, and it had been easy to follow her to the leisurely pace she drove. Roy felt sure the man Paula picked up was a preplanned meeting of conspirators.
"We'll nail 'em at the next stop," he said, and the next stop was the site of the explosion.
The rental car flew off the ground and sailed over the row of flat buildings that fronted the railroad track. Fortunately, in a small town like this the structures were all one story high. The car floated as if it had wings, turning over in the air twice in a lazy fashion. Then it crashed down into a tree. From the tree it slid gently to the ground. Roy had a scraped knee; Amy received a bump on the nose.