Chapter 7

On a warm, balmy Friday, two months after that wild, orgiastic evening at the Cords', Diane was reading a magazine in the living room of their duplex and thinking about Roger.

He was now the full-fledged General Office Manager of Marc Cord's section at Waller, Waller, Crist and Maxwell--the former manager, Drake, having now retired. According to Marc, he was doing extremely well and very much in line for a substantial raise in his present two thousand dollar monthly salary.

Diane couldn't have been happier--for Roger, and for herself. They had been pricing homes in San Bruno, a few miles south of San Francisco, for two weeks now, and Roger was negotiating with a real estate man for a beautiful piece of property that had a magnificent view of the Bay Area, which they had seen high in the winding foothills near Skyline Boulevard. If things went according to schedule, and if the proper financial arrangements were satisfactorily worked out, they would be moving into that sumptuous home within the month. Too, Roger had told her that as soon as they completed the deal, he would buy her a car of her own, perhaps a little sports model, and a new and fancy Detroit model for himself.

Yes, things were on a skyrocketing upswing now. Everything was going just beautifully. She and Roger were now making love at least once a night, and experiencing new and wild joys each and every time. Why, only the other evening they had 69'd for three solid hours; Roger's tongue had sent her whirling to incalculable orgasms during that time, while she had sucked and milked his prick of sticky, hot, delicious loads of sperm three times, never allowing that marvelous cock of his to escape her lips... even when it had deflated, she continued to nibble and suckle it until it once more grew to its monstrous proportions in the cushiony- soft folds of her mouth.

They were still seeing the Cords, too, once and twice each week. Her sessions with Marc, and Roger's with Cindy, heightened their sexual satisfaction in one another. Diane never ceased to be amazed at her own sensual abandonment, as the excitement she felt at watching Roger kissing Cindy's vagina not a foot away from her eyes, at sucking Marc's great male cock with her eyes open wide and staring salaciously into Rogers. It was almost as if she couldn't get enough of Marc's and Roger's cocks, as if her mouth and cunt had become totally insatiable. Whereas before she had lived in dread of fucking, she now lived purely for fucking. And she had never enjoyed the fruits of life more.

Diane turned the pages of the magazine idly. It was almost one o'clock now, and she would have to begin the preparations for supper before long. She was having a special dinner for Roger-- crablegs made with mushrooms and sour cream and wine--not for any special reason, just because she loved him. Of course, she didn't feel much like going through the prosaic chores of cooking on this warm afternoon; what she really felt like doing...

The doorbell began to chime.

Now who can that be? Diane wondered, rising. I hope it's Mr. Comstock. He doesn't know we'll be leaving yet, and I want the pleasure of telling him what he can do with this under-heated crumbling old place. She went to the door and opened it.

Marc Cord stood on the small porch outside. With him was a short, shubby man of about forty, with a bald pate and dark brown eyes. The man was grinning to begin with, and when he saw the lush, full curves of Diane's skirt-and-sweater draped body, the grin widened and became hot and lewd.

Cord said, "Hi, kitten.--"

"Marc," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted you to meet a friend of mine," he told her. "Diane Slater, this is Ed Blake. He's out of our Los Angeles office, Diane."

"Hiya, Mrs. Slater," Blake said, boldly undressing her with his hot, fevered eyes. "This is indeed a pleasure."

She squirmed slightly under his gaze, deciding that she didn't like him at all. Why had Marc brought him around here, anyway? She said, "How do you do?" in a cool voice, and then looked at Cord.

He said, "Aren't you going to invite us in?"

"Well... yes, all right." She stood aside, letting them pass by her. Blake's hand came in contact with the smooth curve of her buttocks, seemed to linger there for a moment, and then he was past her. She didn't think his touching her like that was an accident, and she shivered slightly.

She closed the door and turned to the two men. "Can I offer you something?" she asked.

"Yeah," Blake said, grinning obscenely. "How about a little piece of you."

She glared at him. "I don't think that's particularly funny, Mr. Blake," she said icily.

"Hey, take it easy, kitten," Cord soothed. "Ed likes to kid around, that's all."

"Well, I don't like it," she said. "Was there something special you wanted, Marc, or is this visit purely social?"

"Just to tell you Cindy and I are having a little party tomorrow night," he said, grinning, "For special friends only, if you know what I mean."

Diane frowned. "No, I don't." She lied, embarrassed in front of the stranger.

"You and Roger just come on over around nine. I don't think you'll be disappointed in the... ah... entertainment."

"Well... all right. If Roger hasn't anything else planned."

"Oh, he hasn't," Cord chuckled. "I talked to him about it this morning." He looked at Blake, then. "Why don't you have a seat, Ed? I think I could use a drink. How about you,"

"Sounds good," Blake said.

"Have you got anything here?" Cord asked Diane.

"Just some bourbon."

"Fine. Will you make us a couple of belts?"

"All right."

She turned and went through the door into the kitchen. She was at the sink, taking glasses down from the overhead cupboard, when Cord came into the room. He moved up close behind her, as she was stretched on tiptoe reaching for the tumblers, and pressed his loins against the curving, rounded moons of her buttocks. He let his hands slide around her waist and then come up to cup the full, erect mounds of her breasts, kneading them gently.

"Hi, baby," he whispered against her soft, sweetly-smelling hair.

She felt herself shiver at the touch of his hands and body on her. She couldn't help it; every time she was around Marc Cord, the only thing she could think about was sex. Her body reacted accordingly, sending ripples of pleasure, of desire, swirling along her flesh.

She took the glasses down and put them on the drainboard, but made no move to step out of his embrace. He continued to massage her breasts, pressuring the soft, resilient flesh and the erect buds of her ruby nipples. She could feel his rapidly inflating cock grind against the perfectly rounded globes of her ass, and tremors of flaming lust eddied deep in the core of her stomach.

"Damn you, Marc!" she breathed between tightly clenched teeth, her eyes closed as she yielded her body to the delicious manipulations of his fingers and pelvis. "Why do you have to torture us like this? You know I can't resist you, and you know just as well that we can't do anything about it now."

"Why not, kitten?" he hissed into her ear.

Her hips were beginning to rotate in time with his as his hands moved down now, to slide under the sweater and stroke the soft flatness of her belly, the tips of his fingers dipping tantalizingly into the waistband of her skirt. She managed, "Because... because of your... friend, Mr. Blake... ummmmmmm!... out there, oh God, Marc... you've got me so hot I think I'm... I'm going to explode!"

"Never mind Mr. Blake," Cord whispered, sliding his hand still deeper inside her skirt and now inside her panties, caressing the soft fleece of her pubic mound. "Come on, Diane baby, I want you to suck my cock. I want to put my big, hot prick in your mouth and feel you lick it with your tongue."

His obscene words drove all thoughts of caution from Diane's mind, casting propriety to the wind. Her cunt was dripping anticipatory fluid now, and the palm of his hand was rubbing gently over her pubic area, the tip of his forefinger searching for, and finding, the tiny, oscillating tip of her moist, nestled clitoris. God, I want him! she thought to herself, I want to suck him, just as he said, feel his huge cock sawing in and out of my mouth! I don't care about anything else in the whole wide, infinite universe except Marc Cord's great, lust-inflamed, blue- veined cock!

"Oh... yes, Marc... yes, yes! I want to suck you, now, right now!"

She turned to face him, pressing herself to him, feeling the heat of his hand between them as he continued to stroke her clitoris with maddening, frenzied circles. She put her tongue in his mouth and then bit his lip, gently, still grinding her hips against his harder and faster and she felt the ebbing whirlpools of lust seethe uncontrollably inside her.

"In... in the bedroom!" Cord groaned. "Come on... baby, in the bedroom!"

Obediently, still clinging to him, with his hand still insinuated inside the waistband of her skirt, she allowed Marc to lead her through the kitchen door, along the short hallway into the bedroom. There, he took his hand away and kissed her long and hard, darting his tongue wildly inside her mouth to swirl against hers, their saliva mixing and blending and flowing in thin rivulets from the corners of Diane's widely-parted red lips. Then he stepped back away from her and tore at the belt of his suit trousers with one hand, using the other to shrug out of his coat. "Get naked, baby!" he ordered. "Now; hurry, hurry!"

She pulled and tore at her binding garments, her mind mesmeric with lust, her eyes staring hungrily at the bulging front of Cord's now-exposed shorts. And then she was naked, and Marc's gigantic tool, hot and throbbing and angrily purplish, was swaying back and forth in anticipation before her. Not bothering to remove his shirt or tie, but stepping out of his shorts and trousers, Cord fell back on the bed, spreading his legs and thighs wide to allow room for her to kneel between them. Quickly, wild with seething emotions, she took advantage of his mute offer and knelt there, her knees touching the hirsute flesh of his legs. She lowered her head, her eyes feasting on her target, her lips parting expectantly, tongue moistening their dewy softness. Her left hand came up to stroke tenderly his wrinkled scrotum, massage the base of his mighty prick, and then encircle it in her hand. Suddenly, her head darted down and her famished, wet mouth seized what it wanted and needed, the only nourishment it cared about at that moment. She began to suck him slowly, agonizingly, maddeningly, running her tongue wetly around and around the slimy, salty, lubricated head and licking the tip teasingly into the tiny open slit of the moist gland until she could feel it throbbing as if it had a life of its own and would gush forward at any second a great, never-ending fountain of creamy white cum.

Her head bobbed up and down slavishly over the thick shaft of flesh now, sucking harder, her tongue swirling faster, and Cord's buttocks twisted wildly on the bedspread. His hands wrapped themselves in the soft, silky strands of her hair, pushing her head down over his gigantic column. Diane could feel its dripping head batter against the back of her throat, but she made no move to alleviate the intense ramming pressure there, allowing her lips to suckle maddeningly, convoluting as she strove to draw the very essence of his being along the passage of his great, purplish, monstrous cock.

Suddenly, Diane heard a sound--the sound of the bedroom door opening!

Her eyes flew open, and from her position with her mouth almost completely engulfing Cord's prick on the bed she was able to see the doorway clearly. There, framed in the arch, was Ed Blake. He was completely nude, the short, rigid, chunky length of his thick cock standing obscenely from the thick curling bristles of his pubic hair. His flesh was milky white, unhealthy, and his soft, doughy belly hung saggingly over his abdomen. His eyes were wild with uncontrolled, animalistic passion, and his lips were skinned back over his teeth in a snarl of salacious delight.

Ripples of horror flashed through Diane's body. She tried to pull her head up from Cord's loins, to release his giant pole from her mouth, but Marc's hands were still entangled in her hair and she couldn't move. She could only stare in terror as Blake advanced slowly, his eyes on the stretched moons of Diane's swaying upraised buttocks. He was holding his hardened cock in his hand now, like some nightmare general heading forth to do battle.

Diane tried to cry out, but Cord held her firm. "It's all right, baby," he crooned. "Just relax, now; just relax and enjoy it!"

Enjoy it? Diane thought, frightened. What was the matter with Marc? Had... he brought this filthy slug of a man Ed Blake here with this explicit purpose in mind? Had he caressed her and stroked her in the kitchen, getting her hot, just so she would do his bidding and suck him--with her quivering ass stretched skyward, naked and defenseless, waiting for Blake to come in and... Oh, God, oh God! Oh no, not that! That was one thing she had never allowed Marc or Roger to do, take her anally; her rectum was virginal, and she wanted it to stay that way... Oh dear God, she couldn't allow her bowels to be raped, she couldn't... and yet, there was nothing she could do about it, nothing at all...