Chapter 9

The stereo was going, not too loudly, with one of Robbie's Disks thumping out a sensual, primitive beat that seemed to reach right into Lauralee's belly and nestle there. She was beginning to understand why the kids like that kind of music so much; it had an insistent sexual undertone that she had not responded to in the past; now she was accepting the horny rhythm and flowing with it.

She looked over to where the kids were dancing, their naked young bodies so lovely and appealing in the soft golden light from a bar lamp. They moved with unconscious, unstudied grace, with an animal-like beauty that was basic to their very beings. Beside her, Chris nodded approvingly and lifted a glass in salute.

Lauralee glanced down; his prick as hanging limply against one hairy thigh, an oozing of semen clinging to the shrunken tip. "just imagine," she said quietly, "what a marvelous marriage I would have know, if you'd been my husband. But you and those adorable children are helping me make up for all those lost and lonely years. Tell me, Chris -- did you feel guilty, at first? Screwing Bettina, I mean, and ignoring your wife?"

"A little," he agreed, " but not all that much. Once I got into my girl's fantastic pussy and knew how much it meant to both of us, there was no way I was going to give up fucking her -- even if I had to take her and run, leave the country. You nod doubt feel the same way now, about Robbie."

"Oh, I do, I do," she breathed.

"You're still making excuses to yourself," he said. "But you don't have to, Lauralee. We're all so damned lucky--and that includes my wife; Jessica never had it so good, from me, or from the great screwing she's been getting from your boy. You'll like her, I know. At first, she had some of the same doubts about the so- called propriety of it all, but when she really got with it, all those vanished. From a sometime, lackadaisical wife, she's turned into a fucking machine."

Lauralee poured them both another drink. "I'm not knocking what's happened, Chris. Far from it. I want to run out into the street and scream out my new-found happiness--but that would send the neighbors scurrying to call the police, I'm certain."

He nodded, and she watched the play of light in the thickly curling hair of his crotch, wondering how she could have *ever* thought that a man's sexual organs were ugly. Small and limp or large and pulsing, any prick was gorgeous, a marvel of sensual perfection. It was a delicately constructed object that could turn into an enchanted engine of tremendous power.

Chris said then, "Kidding aside, that's where we have to be a little careful. It's great to bring new, fresh screwing into our circle, but we can't make the mistake of letting an oddball join us, somebody who might blow the whistle. Maybe later on we can search out someone compatible, but for now I think Robbie and I can give you three women all the fucking you want. We'll try like hell, anyhow."

Reaching over, Lauralee patted his drooping cock. "I'm sure you will, lover. You don't realize how sweet that word rests upon my tongue--lover. Before Bettina and Robbie and you, I never had a real lover. Now I have three of you -- and yet another one to come, your wife Jessica."

He grinned at her, and slipped an arm around her waist. "The kids are getting worked up again. Look how Robbie's cock is standing up; and by the time I finish this drink, I have an idea that I'll be ready for another round of fucking, myself. And you, baby?"

Lauralee smiled back. "Any time; all the time."

Chris drew her closer while she kept one hand upon his prick, feeling a slow thickening of the fabulous meat beneath her fingers. "We'll have to take special care of you," he said. "Since you're relatively new to all the things we've been doing with each other. I think we should make you the center of attraction now, the star of our show."

Giving her a quick kiss, Chris dropped off the barstool and took her by the hand to lead her toward the children. Robbie and Bettina had stopped dancing, and were holding each other, rubbing their bellies together.

"Hey, you guys," Chris announced, "I just told Lauralee we'd give her a good going-over. You remember what we did to Jessica, the first time we all balled her?"

Sloe-eyed and sultry, Bettina glanced up. "Sure; that's a fine idea, Dad. Who's first?"

"Age first," Chris answered, "then you, baby--to break the pattern, and Robbie finishes up, okay?"

Bettina's eyes were wickedly sensuous as she brought a sofa pillow to place beneath Lauralee's head, and another one to be positioned under her ass. "Relax, darling," she breathed then, "You're in for quite an experience. In fact, all of us are; it's going to be a blast, loving you in turn."

Lauralee looked from one intent face to the other as they stood in line before her inert body, all of them staring down at her ready thighs and the lush mound of her palpitating cunt, at the ripe and trembling globes of her breasts where the nipples were taut in anticipation. Chris stood with his heavy shaft in one hand, caressing its powerful club with his fingers; little Bettina fidgeted anxiously next to her father, cupping the delicate mossy spot between her willowy thighs; then Robbie waited, swaying back and forth, making small, hunching movements with his stiff prick.

All of them were eager to love her, Luaralee thought; these three great people were aching with desire to fuck her, to eat her juicy snatch, to kiss and caress her flesh while they probed the innermost secrets of her body. She was ready for them, quivering for them, her long legs moving sinuously and her belly rippling as a fresh supply of lubricating fluids bathed the satin wall of her vagina. An orgy, she thought--a real orgy of flesh and mind, with her as the focal point, the centerpiece for their adoration.

If Marshall could only see her at this moment, Luaralee mused; if only her ex-husband could stand somewhere nearby and see the wife he had called frigid, the wife he'd walked out on because she was so damned sexless. Marshall wouldn't believe his eyes, she thought; even the real evidence of her open and tempestuous sexuality would not convince him that Lauralee Jergens was doing this of her own free will. Too, he probably wouldn't be able to imagine that so many people could crave her hot body so much.

She blinked up at Chris Hartmann as the chunky, hairy man kneeled between her opened legs, his massive shaft reaching out, its flanged head glowing and a clear gem of pre-seminal fluid dangling at its point. Once her husband had felt sorry for her; Marshall had said so, bitterly, the day he told her he was going to get a divorce. Now she felt a little sorry for him in turn; if he was standing in this line, waiting his turn to dip his hard cock into her sought-after pussy, Marshall might even be jacking off.

Chris was stroking her hips now, his blunt fingers gently caressing her thighs and belly, trailing themselves deftly up to fondle the pulsating mounds of her firm breasts where the nipples practically leaped to meet his questing fingers. "Beautiful black-haired pussy" he murmured, "so much rich, thick hair piled around it, like a deep, curly mattress. And your cunt lips look as if they're pouting; they're very full and rich, Lauralee. It's a real privilege to aim my cockhead down into them."

The pillow beneath her ass made her pelvis tilt upward, so that she was spread and open for his entrance, and Chris hesitated only a second with his spongy knob pressing into her undulating vulva before shoving his rigid meat full length into the greasy gloving of her pussy. That single thrust buried his shaft to the wrinkled sack of his refilled balls.

"Ahhh!" she moaned, as she felt it crammed into her oily sheath, as she knew the thick, veined bulk of the man's cock burrowing deep. It was strong and knowing, slipping back and forth within the wet fist of her snatch and thrilling her with every minuscule activity. "Ahh, Chris--how wonderful! I love you fat prick inside me; I adore your cock tingling so deeply inside my pussy. Ohhh--Ahhhh!"