coursed through Diane as she looked at the man's hardened penis, for it was even larger than Roger's, and she wondered how the woman could take it all without choking. She clenched her thighs together at the idea of having such a monster even between her legs, then quickly turned to the third photo. Just as explicitly this one showed the woman flat on her back on the floor, her knees drawn up to her breasts. The man was kneeling between her thighs, his tongue parting her pubic hair and curling in the wide pink slit of her vagina. Diane gaped at the obscene sight, and a small gasp of shock escaped her lips.
'You like them, Diane?' came a smiling voice which made her jump, and a hand appeared with a fresh drink for her.
'Well… well, no I don't. Not really.' She took the drink from Marc and a quick swallow in a vain attempt to hide the fact that she was blushing. She looked at Cord, thought, and saw that there was an amused expression on his face.
'Don't be so sure, Diane. Even I enjoy looking at such things occasionally.'
'You don't mean that you… approve of what those people are doing, do you?' she blurted incredulously. 'They're like… animals!'
'Who can tell what should or shouldn't be done in passion? It's a very strong emotion. Everybody needs passion to make themselves happy, don't they? To make the person they love happy?'
'Of course,' she agreed. 'But doing… doing such perverted acts can't be a part of that happiness.'
'No? Well, I think the couple in the photos made each other happy.'
Diane felt confused. She knew she shouldn't have had that last drink, and even though she felt that she was right, she wasn't in any condition to be arguing morality — or anything else. She blinked heavily trying to clear her mind of blurred thoughts, thoughts of the previous night and her unwilling initiation into sexual deviations. Roger had always seemed satisfied with her, at least most of the time, but she did have to admit she was unknowledgeable about certain things. Did it really take such acts to hold a man? No, of course not. How could she consider such a perverted idea? It was evil just to think of things like that, much besides lower oneself to perform them. Or… was it? For the first time in her life, Diane seriously began to question her frozen values, wondering if she really didn't know what a man wanted or needed physically. She tipped the glass again, her throat parched from embarrassment and nervousness.
'You're really going at that rum,' Cord said.
'Mmmmm,' she replied. 'These are good.' Despite the heavy commitment she had toward her inbred code of morals, Diane began to feel faint stirrings of arousal once again churn her body. Moisture seeped between her legs, and she pressed her thighs tightly together and moved her buttocks against the rear of the sofa in a vain attempt to quiet the lascivious tingling. 'I… I think maybe we'd better go back outside, Marc. Perhaps Roger and Cindy are waiting for us.'
'Oh, I doubt that,' Marc said, and Diane detected a sudden change in his voice. 'I saw them as I was making the drinks.'
She frowned. 'What do you mean, together?'
Cord, his lips pursed and his forehead furrowed, walked around from the back of the couch and sat down beside Diane. He looked straight at her. 'I mean we have a situation on our hands, Diane,' he said seriously, 'One that isn't as academic as the photos you were looking at.' He dipped his eyes and peered into his drink, then rotated the glass in his hand. 'I don't know how to put this, Diane, but — well, I've known for some time that Cindy has been playing around, and…' He paused, shaking his head in a mixture of pathos and anger. 'Well, maybe you had better look for yourself.'
He took her hand and she rose, still confused as to what he was talking about. He led her around the couch and over to the bamboo-blinded window and drew aside the curtain.
'Look,' he said. 'Over there, by the shallow end of the pool.'
Diane took one quick glance, and suddenly she felt as if she would scream. Instead, she raised the glass to her lips in convulsive horror and swallowed heavily, thirstily, not tasting the liquid at all. 'Oh no… no!' she gasped as she lowered the almost empty glass. 'Oh… my God, I don't believe it! No, no, no!'
What she had seen was Cindy lying spread-eagle on a large, fluffy towel, completely nude, rolling her head in contorted ecstasy and Roger, kneeling between her naked legs, running his tongue moistly up and down her bronzed body. He paused to suck her nipples to hardened points, and then traced a wet hot path down to the flat plane of her stomach and inner thighs. Cindy's hands were tangled in his hair, her expression that of a woman possessed.
Diane leaned against the window sill, unable to move. 'I… I don't believe it!' she gasped again.
Cord snorted slightly and folded his arms across his broad chest. 'Good God, Diane, it's plain to see! They're making love.'
Diane tried to blot out the horrid scene in front of her. Dear God! There had to be a reason, a logical explanation! How how could her husband, her Roger, be… be…
Cindy was at fever pitch. Her mouth hung open with ecstatic rapture and her glassy eyes stared at nothing but her own inner lust. Roger positioned himself with his mouth over her pubic mound, his fingers splayed on her belly and his thumbs on the outer lips of her vagina. Diane sucked in her breath as she watched Roger part the soft patch of pubic hair and expose the other woman's moist red slit, then drop his head over Cindy's desire-writhing cunt. Cindy's body jerked as if struck by lightning, and her thighs clamped over Roger's ears in a vise-like grip, her hips beginning to move with the rhythm of his slavering tongue.
Diane was completely absorbed in the horrible lewdness being performed before her eyes. She gaped in disbelief, but her own body began to involuntarily sway in time to that of Cindy's undulations as her husband continued the nerve-shattering licking of the woman's widespread vaginal slit. Then Diane realized that Marc was speaking again. She wrenched her mind back to where she was, asked: 'What? What did you say?'
'I said that I'm going to mix another drink, Diane. We could both use another.' He took her glass.
Almost mesmerically, Diane's eyes returned to the fantastic sight in front of her. All she cared about, all she saw in her mind, were the two naked writhing bodies on the towel.
Roger's fat stump of a cock had protruded into view, now. It was enormously thick, and for a sudden, crazy second Diane wondered how she had ever taken him all, and then she was further transfixed by the thought that she was now going to see her husband making love to another woman.
But Roger worked his way up Cindy's sweat-soaked body and straddled her breasts. Diane could see his penis standing out from his belly, its scarlet head but a few inches from Cindy's gasping opened mouth. Roger reached back with one hand and moved his middle finger down the already wet pink folds of her wide stretched pussy, then plunged his finger to the third knuckle into the waiting, lust-quivering hole. He rotated it around, pumping in mock copulation, and Cindy squirmed and pushed against the exquisite digital torture. She flicked her tongue out and rubbed it along the underside of Roger's swollen shaft, then encircled the head, bathing it, kissing the dilated opening. She strained forward, her neck muscles clearly visible and closed her lips like an elastic band around Roger's turgid cock. She took it deep, and Roger leaned forward and began a rocking motion, a grin of animal passion wide across his face.
He's too big! Diane thought, fascinated with horror as Cindy's convoluted lips sucked as though she had waited forever for that magic moment. Her cheeks hollowed on the out-stroke and filled on the in-stroke with a puckered hunger whose very lustiness made Diane cringe. God! He's going to make her suck him until he… he cums! He's going to flood his hot sticky sperm until he drowns her in it! He's going to… to drown her!
Cord appeared, standing close to her, so close that his trunks touched the backs of her naked thighs. The touch was electrifying to her and she whirled suddenly to him, wide eyed, charged with a combination of licentiousness and loathing. 'What… what…?' she began haltingly, afraid to look into Marc's eyes but accepting automatically the fresh drink he offered her.
'What do you think we should do, Diane?' Cord asked calmly. 'The man out there is your husband, remember, and he's on top of my wife and she's sucking the living hell out of him.'
'You don't have to be so… so graphic!'
'At a time like this, you're worried about that? Don't you care what's happening out there?'
'Of course I do! It makes me sick!' she shot back at him thickly.
'Then… don't you think there ought to be reprisals?'
Diane stared at him. She searched his eyes and saw an almost lecherous response. 'I–I don't understand.'
