lewd, obscene performance in front of him. God, she's hot! he thought, and his aching penis throbbed in anticipatory lust of resuming his fucking of Cindy. The abysmal, lascivious thought of fucking in front of Diane while another man pumped her convulted mouth with his huge sperm bloated cock overcame him, and he slipped his hands around Cindy's waiting buttocks and lowered her to his waiting prick. She impaled herself with a mighty groan, committing sexual hara-kiri with utter abandonment. He gasped as Cindy, riding his gigantic, throbbing cock, reached behind her and gently enfolded his testicles with her fingers, and then leaned forward, making his prick scrape her inner cunt walls. She moved up and down, her soft pubic hair parting and then folding inwards as she slid down his lubricated pole. Her pussy clasped him like a well-fitting glove. He let his hips move off the rug, and with a groan which started in his belly, he rammed forward, burrowing his cock deeper still into Cindy's clasping pussy, flooding into the kneeling woman like a great tide that tore and burst everything in its path.
Roger still gazed upon his wife as he shattered Cindy's stretched and open cunt. He groaned with the doubled ecstasy of fucking and seeing Diane trapped between Cord's legs. The man thrust his cock mercilessly into her mouth, forcing her sucking, fish-like lips apart with each upward jerk until almost all his rigid flesh was swallowed by her working concave-convex cheeks. Her long, disheveled blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders to pool on his belly, and her firm, white breasts danced and shook below her heaving chest as though they had a life of their own.
Unconsciously he began to imitate his wife's rhythm as the tempo increased, and his cock throbbed inside Cord's wife's burning pussy, her soft moistness unbearable. Wilder and wilder the two couples became, their beat regulated by the rhythm of Diane's swirling tongue around Cord's near exploding cock.
And then… a deep, half-human cry erupted from Cord and he locked his hands around the back of Diane's bobbing head, driving his cock so deep into her throat that Roger could no longer see any of it protrude from his wife's wet and glistening lips. Her wild sucking changed to great desperate, gulping swallows as Cord spewed huge quantities of hot, white semen into her mouth. Some dribbled from her tightly clasping lips in spite of her efforts to consume it all, running in rivulets down her chin and neck. She swallowed and reswallowed, hollowing and then bloating her engorged cheeks. Christ, Roger thought, that man must have a hollow leg full of cum!
At the same time he could feel a gush of warmth around his own cock as Cindy groaned out her release. Her juices began to flow out from around his deeply imbedded cock and down into the softness of his testicles. He clenched his eyes shut and felt his balls erupt wildly. It was as if hot lightening started to ride up his scrotum and leap down his shaft, and his sperm shot like water from a faucet up into Cindy's palpitating belly. He thrust upwards as far as he was able, spewing out his load, grinding his pelvis against her pussy without mercy.
Diane whimpered, her own orgasm having been released with the saltine taste of Cord's cum. She moved her head, Marc's deflated cock slipping wetly from her mouth, and Roger could see the thin sticky cords of his hot sperm still connecting her face to the warm throbbing head even though they were now inches apart. Her breathing was heavy and she groaned and then she collapsed sideways, her body a limp doll, held in place only by the inner thighs of Cord's still raised legs.
Roger strained and emptied the last of his cum deep into Cindy and then released his hands from her. She slithered forward and lay across his chest, her legs still bent at his hips. He turned his head and smiled at his wife, smiled at her lovingly, completely at ease with the satiation of mutual orgasm. She returned his smile, thin trails of sperm still visible around her ruby lips.
Later the four of them performed other wild and abandoned acts, with Cord directing them like a Hollywood film maker. The evening faded into a mass of tangled legs, breasts, cocks, and cunts. When Roger and Diane finally bid their farewell early the next morning, they both realized they had passed the point of no return. They had been initiated and accepted. They were full-fledged members of the cult now, for better or for worse…
CHAPTER SEVEN
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 Roger's. 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.'
