Chapter 8

The moon had hidden its face behind opaque clouds beyond the Wasatch Mountains to the east. But Mavis needed no light in the inky black night to know here Hank Carr was! She could hear his deep--somewhat fast--breathing right behind her. She could almost feel it on her neck. His musky male aroma drifted on the still night air.

He was the one who was going to get her!

Mavis' knees weakened and trembled--but her cunny muscles clutched deliciously tormenting and she sensed a hot flush of sex juices released in her trembling sex channel. Her mind cried NO! But her physical being was crying out to be fucked!

His footsteps were stealthy and right on her heels. No one had to tell her he had a hard-on. And that hard cock was destined to be socked into her cunt!

Mavis couldn't resist a feeling of resignation. He would fuck her--and she would let him!

He was off to her side now and a hand was gently touching the small of her back--the tip of a finger was nudged against the dimple-start of her crack. He wasn't even waiting until they got in the house to start putting the make on her! She just hoped he didn't think it was necessary to remind her that he knew she had been a whore in order to lay her! She would let him--she knew she would--she was resigned to taking him on, letting him hose his jizz into her twat!

Mavis cursed herself! Her sex channel was roiling, a boiling cauldron! Just from having Hank Carr's knowledgeable hand on her body. Her coital muscles were knotted and bunched. Her rectal passage was itching and burning--and she wished that Hank would get his hand inside her panties and rub her asshole to relieve the exotic torment.

SLUT! her mind shouted at her.

And she answered silently... I have no choice. I can't have any of these people know and talk about my past!

Henry Carr's hand dropped away from her quivering body as they entered the house. Mavis didn't bother turning on another light as the lamp in the distant living room cut the gloom in the kitchen. Mavis knew exactly where Phil kept his cigars... in one of the vegetable drawers in the refrigerator.

This is where he'll take me, Mavis thought, hesitating on opening the refrigerator. Somehow, she knew.

"I didn't see a sign of a prowler," Hank said in the dim kitchen.

"I didn't either, I didn't know we had prowlers in the neighborhood." Mavis breathed shakily--wishing he would make his move... piss or get off the pot!

There was a rustling behind her, but Mavis wouldn't turn to determine what it was. She folded her arms under her full breasts, just waiting. She sensed it was only a matter of time before Hank made his move. She shivered, hating the suspense of when he would take her. If it were going to happen, she wished he would do it and have it over with--spare her the agony of uncertainty. It would also extinguish the raging fire that was roaring in her cunt.

There seemed to be something primitive in the air. It was all animal; the pursuer and the pursued; the hunter and the hunted. She was the prey. Mavis was glad it was very dim in the epic and span kitchen. She didn't want to see it happen to her. Hank wouldn't seem quite so carnal and forbidding here in the gloom. She wouldn't have to look at him as he gave it to her. All she would have to cope with were the feeling and smell and hearing his lustful breathing. This way, in the dark, it wouldn't be so bad even if he made her take his cock and guide it into her.

If she couldn't see him--his face--as he fucked her, maybe it would just be like an unpleasant dream. A short dream; depending on how long it took him to pump his prick into her until he came.

"You're a sexy, curvy bundle, Mavis," he whispered hoarsely and Mavis jumped, startled, not realizing how near he was. His breath even wafted fine wisps of her blonde hair. She hadn't expected him to speak. She had thought he would just start stripping her--and take her!

"What are you going to do, Hank?" Mavis mumbled.

His soft laughter sent cold chills up and down her spine.

"Why, you came after some cigars, sweet thing. That's what you're going to get--a cigar!"

"Please?" she sighed, knees weak and trembling.

"You don't have to ask for it, Mavis," Henry Carr said. And he placed his hands on her upper arms.

Soon, soon, soon, she fretted, he would be getting to her. She wondered if he were hung as well as Willie. Willie had a huge cock and he knew how to use it! Well, Hank could fuck her, but she wouldn't cooperate. She wouldn't even permit herself to get steamed up and orgasm! She wished her channel would stay dry and the walls of her vagina would rub him raw!

She let him turn her torso and pull her into the circle of his arms. God! He was stark naked. That had been the rustling she had heard behind her; Hank taking off his clothes! He had been damned cock-sure he was going to use his cock in her!

She didn't resist as he crushed her to his bare, hairy chest. He held her so firmly, her breasts were mushroomed almost out of the bra against him. And his hands were rubbing up and down her back, his fingers pinching her firm buttocks at the terminus of their downward stroke. And his touch was stoking her sex furnace and she was about to erupt.

"Ooooooohhhhh!" she whimpered as his mouth and spearing tongue found hers. His kiss was masterful and demanding. She let her lips part, chin lift slightly so he could jut his tongue into her mouth. His tongue was wild. Mavis felt she had never been French-kissed like this before in her life. And he was dry- fucking like crazy, grinding his groin against her tummy. And he was hot and bone-hard! She didn't have to see it or feel it with her hands; she knew Hank Carr had an immense pussy plunger!

His hands, now cupping her ass and lifting her up on tiptoes, were pushing her toward the precipice of climax and she was about to beg him to rip off her clothes and fuck her! She needed it! Wanted it as badly as any bitch dog in heat!

But she didn't have to beg. His hands were busy up under her skirt and her panties were slithering down over her buttocks and he was baring his target for attack. In seconds, the fragile, protective sheath of silk would be gone and there would be nothing between her puffed pussy and his long, hard prick! He was going to fuck her on her own kitchen floor!

Hank's hands left the bare, feverish flesh under her skirt and drifted to her shoulders. For a second panic and disappointment seized her. She thought he was going to push her to her knees and force her to give him a blow-job, suck him off and she would be cheated out of having a big cock pummeling her cunt! Whatever had been her earlier resolve had dissipated. Right now, she wanted a fuck!

But she would do just as Hank wanted, praying silently that she received sexual relief while he was spending his cock in her and deriving his own pleasure. She couldn't see his face in the dark as he left off kissing her and pushed her away. Mavis let him lead her to the serving bar that separated the kitchen dinette from the dining room.

He turned her about and pushed her over the bar. "What?" she puzzled in a slightly whining voice as he shoved her aching tits down on the Formica counter. She braced her arms across the surface, clenched the far edge with her hands. Mavis rested her face on her left forearm, trying to peer behind her, but couldn't see the naked Henry Carr. But he was back there. And she knew he was going to feed his cock into her cunt from behind.