by Curt Aldrich
“The regular way this time,” Bill rasped, then threw himself against her with sudden fierceness.
Marilyn squirmed out of his grasp, then scooted down until her face was before his crotch. Gripping his cock at its middle, she slowly peeled his foreskin back off his glans.
“Marilyn,” Bill grunted.
“It's sort of... cute,” Marilyn murmured.
Then, abruptly, she pressed her lips about the swollen purple glans.
“Marilyn!” Bill gasped as she caught hold of him with her free hand, which she shot around to the small of his back.
She tightened the wet ring of her lips about the base of his glans, and she immediately brought her tongue into play, pressing its tip against the opening of his urethra, then tracing circles in slow sweeps down his glans.
She even used her teeth, presently, in stimulating Bill. After the tip of her tongue had teased every bit of the surface of his glans, she caught the purple bulb at its middle between her teeth, and she bit the spongy flesh again and again with such passion that Bill was forced to emit a string of yelps.
But Bill found himself experiencing considerably more pleasure than pain, and the main effect of the pain, anyway, was to season the pleasure with an added exotic dimension, so he didn't really mind “suffering” it.
“Ah, Marilyn! Marilyn! Bite it! Bite it-Marilyn! Bite it and suck—oooh...”
Marilyn was so strongly encouraged by his groans that she bit into his glans as powerfully as she could.
“AIIEEE!” Bill shrieked at the top of his lungs as he felt the cruel, grinding pinch of Marilyn's teeth.
Marilyn quickly reined in on her savage passion, but she kept sucking and tonguing away at the wounded flesh for another full minute.
She brought Bill's cock up to a state of urgent erection before she acknowledged his heated expressions of ecstasy by drawing her mouth up off his throbbing shaft and tipping her head back to stare at his severely drawn, almost comically bug-eyed face.
“Really got you in a state, haven't I?” she asked in a throaty near-whisper, saliva glistening on her lips and trickling copiously from the corners of her mouth.
Bill craned his neck and looked down at his towering column of sex flesh. The raw appearance of his glans affirmed the message he was receiving from the surging undulations of desire that were ravaging him, body and soul: he would have to mount Marilyn and fuck her with a vengeance, and right away!
Marilyn read in his eyes the intensity of his lust. He looked so intensely stimulated that she actually gasped; she was afraid he'd take her so violently he'd hurt her. But she was, herself, much too horny to give any thought to trying to avoid the savage fucking she knew he was about to subject her to. The throat of her pussy was on fire, and she wanted Bill's rampant erection to give it the deep-action hosing it lusted after so shamelessly.
Seeing Bill tear his eyes away from his cock and sweep them over her body, she lay quickly on her back and threw her legs wide apart.
She groaned the message of the hunger gnawing at her cunt, which was exuding gobs of hot juices that oozed down over her perineum and dripped to the grass from her asshole.
Bill moved to his knees between her legs and threw his torso forward and down over her and smashed his cupped palms over her small, throbbing breasts.
“Get it in me!” Marilyn pleaded, bucking up in sudden desperation. “I'm too hot for messing around, Bill! I want it in me now!”
Far too caught up by his thundering lust to be able to think clearly and so be able to make his attack one of direct, deep-plunging efficiency, Bill kept on kneading handfuls of her delighted titty flesh as he also kept on stabbing fruitlessly away, trying to find and penetrate her longing pussy.
His growing frustration piled more coals onto the fire of his lust. He was determined to begin feeding his massive, straining cock to that carnivorous hole of hers, and to do so now! His aching shaft was a red-hot pipe; he had to jab it deep into her, and to piston it in her gripping, sucking depths until....
“Please, Bill!” Marilyn whined, raising her head and shoulders and, reaching under his crotch, taking hold of his cock at the base of his glans and guiding the shaft to the core of her slit. “You don't know how bad I need it!”
Bill hunched down fast and hard, then held to his awkward position, his glans splitting the lips of Marilyn's vulva. Quickly satisfied that his cock was set and aimed correctly, he resumed down-hunching, and he felt the mouth of Marilyn's cunt yielding before his massive knob.
“Yes! Bill! Ooh, good, good.,. I feel it... darling...” Marilyn groaned, thrusting up under him.
Bill screwed relentlessly on into her tight wet hole, plunging the full length of his cock into her sopping depths. His lust controlled him completely, and he continued to drive and drive his heavy shaft until it was in to the last friction of an inch of its thick root and his testicles were pressed solidly against her cream-smeared asshole.
“Oh, what a nice stuffing!” Marilyn squealed, her head rolling jerkily from side to side. “It makes me shiver all up and down my spine, Bill, it's so good!”
Bill shortly began to withdraw. He kept his cock in reverse until he felt the mouth of Marilyn's vagina stretched about the flared crown of his glans; then he prodded his shaft in to the hilt a second time.
He drew back again, and again fucked in, and he was plunging his bone in her ecstatic hole, feeding it to her time after time, rushing toward the climax that was waiting to engulf him in just a few moments.
“Bill, darling, you're doing it to me again! You're making me! I'm coming, darling! Oh, golly, I'm coming hard!”
Then it was Bill's turn, and he stuffed her cunt to the gills and lay still over her, with only his hands moving, kneading her breasts.
His buried cock expanded impossibly, straining the walls of Marilyn's cunt almost to the limit.
He gasped and gasped, in time with the rhythm of his choosing cock, and he half believed he was going to cream out his very life against the neck of Marilyn's womb.
CHAPTER TEN
Marilyn awakened the next morning before her husband, and she dressed without waking him, deciding it would be nice to walk alone by the lake for a while in the cool early-morning air and do some thinking.
She knew she had a lot to think about. She wanted particularly to mull over her behavior so far during the honeymoon, which still disturbed her because she'd been unable to think of a good excuse for herself. “Bill's behavior had been just as shameful, she realized, but that didn't make her feel any better about her own.
When she reached the shore of the lake, she turned toward a small wooden pier she saw not far off. She saw that there was a rowboat tied up at the end of the pier, and she decided idly that it might take the edge off her worries if she did her thinking while rowing across the lake and back. The lake was placid and crystal-clear, and it looked especially inviting in the still air of the morning.
She had turned toward the pier only a minute before, when she heard someone hurrying over the moist sand toward her from behind. Immediately, she felt a little shiver of fear running through her. Was it Peter or Harry? she wondered. She hoped she had the strength of will to resist being seduced again; she didn't think she could stand the shame of betraying Bill still another time.
“Hey, Marilyn, wait up!”
Marilyn felt the touch of fear leave her as she spun around and smiled. It was only Barbara, and she hardly had to fear her.
“You had the same idea I had, huh?” Barbara asked cheerfully, and returned the smile as she caught up with Marilyn.
“What's that?”
“To boat across the lake and back, of course... work up an appetite for a nice big breakfast.”
“Breakfast? You know, I never even thought about where we're all supposed to eat while we're here at the resort.”
Barbara laughed gaily, then winked and said, “Had more important things on your mind, huh?”
Marilyn hated herself for blushing, b
ut she couldn't keep from doing so. She knew Barbara's suggestive teasing was only meant playfully, but it still embarrassed her.
“Why are you blushing, dear?” Barbara asked. “You're not that shy, are you?”
Marilyn hung her head as she and Barbara resumed heading for the pier at a slow walk.
“Sometimes I am, I guess.” Marilyn was silent for a moment, then added, talking to herself as much as to Barbara, “Maybe my upbringing was too strict.”
“Well, it's kind of silly to be embarrassed so easily,” Barbara said thoughtfully, her hand warmly encircling Marilyn's forearm for a moment as if, somehow, to take the bite out of her words.
“I suppose so,” Marilyn replied softly, still looking down.
“Anyway... what I was going to tell you... we had our meal with that old man, Eddy Johnson, and his wife. I stopped by at their cabin, and his wife showed me the dining room. It's the biggest room in the cabin, with this big long mahogany table... and flowers and everything. Mrs. Johnson-she's a lot younger than the old man—she says we're going to have a nice, heavy breakfast. She says people ought to eat good breakfasts.”
“Sounds like my mother,” Marilyn said conversationally, looking up.
“Yeah? Mine, too.”
Marilyn smiled to herself. Maybe she'd make a real friend yet during the honeymoon.
Marilyn was untying the rope that held the rowboat at the pier when Barbara spoke again, bringing up a subject Marilyn would rather not have talked about. Marilyn was a little surprised that Barbara had the nerve to bring it up; she knew it was the last thing she would've chosen to talk about. But then, Barbara was clearly less inhibited.
“I guess I ought to apologize for the way I behaved with your husband on the yacht that one time.”
Hoping the subject would be dropped quickly, Marilyn made a sound that signified nothing except that she'd heard Barbara.
“I know what I did was disgraceful...”
“It's all right,” Marilyn said, knowing she was expected to say something, to do more than just grunt. She was surprised at her boldness when she heard herself adding, “You didn't do any worse than I did.”
“You mean with Peter? But I know it was me who did it first, Marilyn.”
Marilyn sat down opposite Barbara in the rowboat and watched as Barbara lifted and swung out the oars, then lay them in their guides and started rowing away from the pier.
“And don't think it was your husband's fault, either ” Barbara said presently. “That Bill of yours is a fine man.'
“I know he is,” Marilyn said softly.
“No, it was my fault entirely, and I'm not going to claim otherwise.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“The thing is, that movie got me so horny I lost my sense, Marilyn. I just couldn't control myself, I mean. I got so horny I just had to... well, you know.”
“I'm not holding anything against you, Barbara. It's all right, really. You should just forget about it, like it never happened.”
A touch of sadness showed in the look of Barbara's face as she said, “I wish I could. I really do wish I could.”
“Why can't you? I said I don't—”
“Because what made me do it is still the same. Just because the experience is in the past... Marilyn, do you know what I'm talking about?”
Marilyn shook her head.
“What I mean is that I'm oversexed. I get horny way too easily.”
Barbara's tone was so intimate and so warmly friendly that Marilyn was emboldened to be just as open in the things she said. She found it easier to talk with Barbara, now that Barbara had been so humbly and touchingly self-revealing.
“I think I'm like that, too,” Marilyn said, her eyes focused unwaveringly on Barbara's.
“You do?”
“Sometimes I do, anyway. I know I start wanting to... you know what... start wanting to awfully quick sometimes... even when I shouldn't want to at all.”
“I've been oversexed for years,” Barbara said, “practically back to when I was a little girl. And you want to hear something funny... something that's even worse?”
“What?” Marilyn didn't try to hide her sense of expectation. She was more than a little shocked at herself for relishing hearing Barbara's intimate confidences.
Marilyn was shocked also, to feel soft pulsations in her loins that made her aware she was beginning to be a little sexually stimulated. She was certain it was naughty of her to react so, but she couldn't help it.
And even if it was naughty, it was still enjoyable. In fact, she realized dimly, it was the more enjoyable for being naughty.
“I used to think I was a Lesbian,” Barbara said.
“What's that?”
“Oh, you're kidding.” But Barbara could tell by the look on Marilyn's face that she honestly didn't know what a Lesbian was. “You really are an innocent little thing, aren't you?”
Marilyn lowered her eyes and managed, just barely, to keep from blushing again.
“Are you going to tell me what it means or aren't you?” she asked, her slight embarrassment making her irritable.
“A Lesbian is a girl who prefers girls to men. Sexually, I mean. That's the way I used to think I was. I even had a girl friend, if you know what I mean, not so long ago. Her name was Alice Mae, and I really thought I was madly in love with her.”
Marilyn again looked into Barbara's eyes. “Honestly?” she said in a whisper, as if she were afraid someone would hear them.
“I guess the main reason I married Peter was to force* myself to stop seeing Alice Mae. But now that I have married him, I know that I was wrong: I don't prefer girls. I guess it was just adolescent dopiness that I'd talked myself into... that, and because I'm oversexed, like I said.”
“Did you... do things with—”
Barbara laughed and said, “Marilyn, you wouldn't believe all the things we did. We just couldn't keep away from each other. We made love practically all the time.” Giggling, she added, “One of the things we used to do was to go to indoor movies and sit way back in the balcony and mess with each other just to be daring. We really did some crazy things... And we had a lot of good times, too, to tell the truth.”
Marilyn pretended to herself that she didn't realize the crotch of her underpants was growing increasingly moist. Her snugly held cunt was throbbing and creaming, but she pretended that her interest in Barbara's activities with Alice Mae came from nothing more than natural curiosity.
“What sort of things did you do with each other?” she asked. “I mean, with both of you being girls...”
“Does the subject interest you?” Barbara asked in return, her eyes narrowing. “You don't mean to tell me you've found yourself attracted to girls in the past!”
“I never said that!” Marilyn said heatedly, her face flushing partly because of her irritation over Barbara's bantering tone, but mostly because of her shame over her dim recognition that Barbara's last question disturbed her considerably more than it should have. “Just because I'm curious about what you did—”
“How curious are you, Marilyn? You know, I could find you awfully attractive if I let myself...”
“Just what's that supposed to mean?”
“Would you like me to show you the sort of things Alice Mae and I did together?”
“What are you talking like that for?” Marilyn asked, pouting. She felt on the verge of tears. “You have no right to suggest that... that... what you're suggesting.”
Barbara brought the oars back into the boat, then laced her fingers together in her lap and gazed intently at Marilyn.
“I just mean if you'd really like to know. It's nothing to be ashamed of, if you want to find out what it's like.”
Marilyn was so flustered by now that she scarcely knew what to say or do or even think. She squeezed the edge of the plank she was sitting on §o hard her fingers turned white, and she lowered her eyelids because Barbara's eyes seemed to be burning right into her head.
“You're talk
ing crazy,” she said in a husky, tremulous voice.
She wished she could stop her body from trembling. What was happening to her? If she didn't get control of herself, she'd burst out crying... or something...
“One of the things we did a lot was kiss, the same way a man and a girl kiss,” Barbara said. “Would it be all right if I kissed you? It wouldn't hurt you, Marilyn, and there'd be nothing wrong with it. You'd just find out what it's like when two girls kiss.”
Marilyn said nothing. She was afraid to open her mouth, afraid of what she might say. She knew, though, that she did want Barbara to kiss her, and not simply so that she'd find out what it was like.
Barbara took Marilyn's silence for assent. She slid her buttocks forward to the edge of her seat, then tipped her torso forward and sent one of her hands around to the back of Marilyn's head. Placing her other hand, apparently nonchalantly, on Marilyn's thigh, she moved her lips slowly closer and closer to Marilyn's.
Marilyn whimpered when she felt the warmth of Barbara's breath blowing against her lips. Feeling Barbara's palm pressing against the back of her head, she sighed and let all resistance flow out of her body.
Barbara kissed her so passionately and for such a long time that Marilyn began to feel faint. She had neither the will power nor really even the desire to protest when she felt Barbara's tongue pushing against her teeth, trying to invade her mouth; she simply opened her mouth, and she emitted a muffled groan as the tongue was screwed deeply in.
Marilyn felt her torso being urged irresistibly backward. As she reached behind and supported herself with her hands, one on each side of the boat, she heard Barbara getting up and coming forward, between her yawning thighs, on her knees in the bottom of the boat.
Barbara had little difficulty pushing the front of Marilyn's short, loose skirt in bunched folds up against her stomach. Her hand shot down to Marilyn's cunt, and she began lightly frigging her swollen, wet labia through the band of her underpants running between her legs.
“This is one of the things we did,” Barbara husked, having ended the long, deep-licking kiss. “Do you like it?”