Chapter 7

Russell met him at the door like a long-lost friend.

"Stuart, my boy, how are you and how is that beautiful hunk of meat?" "Now, come on, Russ," Stuart replied, "are you going to start chasing me around the bed already?" "No, no, no!" Russell held his hands up, palms out. "Far from it... just being cute. You know me." "Yes I do," Stuart said.

Russell laughed. "C'mon stud, I'll show you your room. Believe me, I'm glad you're here... there's somebody I want you to meet." "What's on for tonight?" Stuart asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Hardly a thing. Just a quiet little dinner party. In deference to you, believe me." "Not just the two of us, I hope." "Of course not," Russell said, his lips forming a pout, "I know what you like." Midge lounged on the bed as Lucille watched them come up the stain and walk down the hall, through the barely cracked door. "Midge... come look!" she cried. "Because you're in luck. He's not only rich, but he's good-looking as hell." Lucille was so engrossed in sizing Stuart up she paid little attention to the fact that Midge remained on the bed. Her cunt tingled as she watched his big body move down the hall with a catlike grace, his wide shoulders massive in the tailored jacket. His thighs looked huge and the muscles in his buttocks bunched and corded beneath the tight pants in such a way that Lucille wished it was her who was after him instead of Midge. Even at that she was glad that she had decided to have him, at least once, before Midge started her part of the operation.

Russell left him in the room. Stuart quickly unpacked and showered. Still nude, he flapped on the bed to grab a wink or two before dinner. He was barely asleep when his senses told him someone was in the room.

His eyes popped open. She was standing in the middle of the room, smiling at him, her long hair framing her finely featured face. She was wearing a very low-cut dress like a second skin. From his angle she was all tits, ass and legs. Between that and the animal look in her eyes, he thought she must be a fantastic fuck.

"Are you the welcoming committee?" he asked.

"Depends," she said, her eyes dropping directly to the long hose-like cock that wound its way down between his legs.

"On what?" "On what you're interested in. I'm Russell's sister, Lucille." "I'm Stu Jessup," he said, feeling his cock harden as he examined her body.

She sat next to him on the bed. At closer range he saw the tell-tale lines around the eyes and the gathering of skin where her breasts joined at the top of her cleavage. She had a few too many years, he thought, but she carried them well. And if fucking her would pay his bed and board, rather than fucking Russell, he was all for it.

He took her by the arm, coming alive at once to the feel of firm, warm flesh. She pulled her arm to her side, forcing his hand up against her swelling breast. It was so large that he could feel it with the back of his hand, pressed as it was almost in her armpit. His cock hardened a little more.

"Listen," he said, glancing at his watch, "what ate you doing right now?" "Being bored until dinner," she said.

"Then let's fuck." "How do you want it?" she said.

"Get your clothes off and I'll show you," Stu said, laughing and squeezing one of her tits.

She slipped from her clothes and rolled into the bed. He pushed her over on her belly and rose to his knees behind her. His cock went directly to her asshole and plunged forward.

"Not so fast!" she groaned.

He paid no attention to her as he shoved and lunged, trying to grind his cock into her anus. "Relax," he panted.

"I can't... Jesus, you're like an elephant!" she screamed.

Again he shoved with all the power in his limbs and hips. It was no good. He could barely get the head of his cock in her cunt.

In disgust he flipped her over until she was sitting in front of him. He started feeding his cock into her mouth, but it was so big and thick that all she could handle was the head. It filled her mouth completely, and she sucked on it, wanting to take more.

She used her hands, trying to jack him off in her mouth but he wanted her to suck him down deep in her throat and she couldn't. Again he changed his tactics and pushed her back to the bed.

Her legs flew into the air and wrapped around his back as he shoved with all his might into her cunt. There she could handle it, but even then only an inch or so at a time. She had never had anything like his cock in her life.

She looked down between their bodies. He had forced at least six inches into her and he still had easily that amount to go. She was gasping, her head turning from side to side, her legs spread, the area around her cunt turning a deep crimson.

At last he was all the way inside her. Lucille was almost out of her mind with pain and pleasure, but she matched his humps with a movement that absorbed every inch of his swollen meat. Then she got wetter. It was easier. It was better, and God, she wanted all of his cock, hard into her. She rolled around on it, digging it into her cunt, hurting herself, but loving every inch of it.

After several moments of hard fucking, she locked her ankles behind the back of his neck, thrust her hips up high, almost lifting him from the bed, and cried aloud as she threw her cunt against him in the agony of her climax.

At the same moment, Stu began the shorter, faster strokes that forewarned his shooting his thick cum deep into her cunt. Then he drove her ass deep into the mattress with a growl as his prick spurted his wad into her womb, and the two of them collapsed breathlessly on the bed.

They lay still for a long time and then he lit them both cigarettes. "You've never had a real big cock before, have you?" "Oh yeah," she gasped, "but not like that. You should take it a little easier at first, let a gal warm to it." "Why?" "Because it hurts like hell, that's why. Lovin' shouldn't hurt, it should feel good." He rolled over and she almost shuddered at the coolness in his eyes. "Lucille... is it?"

"Y-yeah," she stammered, "Lucille." "Lucille," he said, his voice even, cold. "There are women you love... and then, there are women you fuck."

After dinner they retired to another room for brandy and more talk. Still Stuart hardly paid Midge any attention. It put an unspoken damper on the evening's activities. Eventually Midge rose and excused herself.

Seeing that the evening had turned out to be a dud, Russell and his little friend did the same and left arm in arm, headed for the former's bedroom.

Lucille was puzzled.

"You didn't seem to find my friend very attractive," she said.

"Quite the opposite. She's very beautiful. I just didn't feel like staffing an orgy down here in the living room." "You didn't?" Lucille asked, trying to keep the amazement out of her voice.

"No... that's why I stopped coming here in the first place. Russell probably told you I liked the living room bashes with twenty or more going at it, didn't he?" "Uh... something to that effect," Lucille said, cursing Russell in her mind for not giving her the full story. She was relieved, however, that there had been no big party, with a mass orgy that night. Had he met Midge in the middle of all that it could have posed a problem.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, "I like a lot of action with a lot of couples, but I like them one at a time more than I used to. See, I started feeling like a freak, or a circus performer in the middle of those parties. I'd be humping away on someone and the next thing I knew everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing to watch me." Good God, thought Lucille, he's a super stud with a super cock and he actually digs the love scene in sex! Now she knew what he had been talking about upstairs in the bedroom.

"Well," she said, rising and stretching, forcing her breasts to bulge above her dress invitingly, "me for bed." "Yeah, me too," he said.

They walked up the stairs together. At her door he pecked her on the cheek and said goodnight.

"Want some company?" she asked.

"Would you be mad if I said no?" he replied.

"No," she said, and smiled as she eased into her room. She heard his footsteps retreat down the hall.

The room was empty. Quickly she crossed to the connecting door leading to the adjoining bedroom. Midge was sitting on the bed, her head so low that it was nearly resting on her tits. She wore the top of a see-through nightgown and nothing beneath it.

"What's the matter with you?" Lucille asked.

"He wants me to come to his room after everyone else has gone to bed," Midge replied, not lifting her head.

"Who does?" "He says he does... Stuart." "How do you know that? He didn't say ten words to you all night long." "He slipped me a note under the table during dinner." "Well I'll be damned!" Lucille said, erupting in laughter. "That sneaky bastard!" "I don't want to go." "What?" "I don't want to go," Midge said as she stood and faced Lucille.

The woman was stunned by the defiance in Midge's voice and the hard look of determination on her face.

"You're crazy. This is what we've been planning for... of course you'll go." "I'll feel like a whore," Midge said, biting her lip to hold back the tears she felt brimming at the corners of her eyes.

"Bullshit!" Lucille cried. "You are a whore. We're all whores. So is he. Now get your ass in there!" Midge didn't want to tell her the truth. She didn't want to tell her that she really did want to go to Stuart's room, but she was afraid that if she did her head would be fucked up for good. There was something about his eyes, the way he looked at her and the way his body moved, and the way he spoke. It was as if she had known him before. And she had, all her life, in her dreams. The minute she met him she knew that he was the combination of all the men she had ever been with and more. Midge felt she had something with Lucille, that she, at last, was able to feel something for someone, and care that she did feel. If she went to bed with Stuart Jessup she guessed that she would then begin to feel too much, become too confused, ha back where she was.