rubber cock.
“Owwwww! For gawdsakes, it’s killing me! Owwwwwww!”
It looked like Polly was going to abandon ship as she clawed at the thing trying to get it out of her, but we held her on it while Doreen flipped the switch.
“Oh, jesusfuckingchrist!” Polly screamed when she felt those volts sting her nipples and massage her rectum. “Oh, fuckamighty motherfucker bastard!”
I could see that rubber cock doing its job as it vibrated through her juicy cunt, but I could only imagine the ecstasy of having those electrodes attached to my nipples while my bum hole was getting done, too. It was a four-way fuck for Polly and she couldn’t take it. Maybe her husband was a good lay and maybe he wasn’t, but there was no comparison to what she was feeling now. She fucked that dildo with such ferocity that we had to hold her on the couch, and when she orgasmed, she screamed like somebody was cutting off her tits.
That could have screwed it up for us, only this time it wasn’t my fault. All that bellowing and screaming brought the janitors running to see what was wrong, and that salesman from the Bronx was with them. He knew damn well we were up to something good and he wanted in on it.
We ended up fucking the janitors and the salesman and for once in my life I didn’t screw up. I had a go at that contraption George built and it knocked me senseless. I always came too hard anyway, but George could make things happen that you wouldn’t believe, like that female cunt he manufactured and hooked up to a sump pump. That damn near killed Arnold Wheeler from accounts payable, because Arnold got his cock in it and it sucked him dry, but kept right on sucking.
Only that doesn’t tell how our night with the gorbieddo ended. Like I said, I got knocked senseless with pleasure so I wasn’t much use to anybody for a long time that evening. One of the janitors put his pecker in me and jizzed real hard, but by that time I was still so far gone I don’t even remember which one of them it was. And somebody bit on my titties so hard they were sore for a week. Now ordinarily that would have been the greatest of pleasures, but I was all fucked out. That thing George made was such a miracle I wanted to buy it. Except that one of the girls, or maybe one of the janitors or that salesman, stole the damn thing. We were all so damn wrapped up in fucking and coming that we didn’t know what was going on, so one of those dirty bastards stole our precious little gorbledoo. We tried to get George to make us another one later on, only he was so mad at us he wouldn’t even talk to us.
“All that work for nothing!” he fumed. “Dammit Martha, every time you get mixed up in one of my projects something goes wrong. Now I’ll never get that data I need!”
I don’t know why he blamed me, and I was willing to have another go at his contraptions, but he was disgusted with the bunch of us. In a way I couldn’t blame him, but then George didn’t know very much about women. Maybe he was some kind of genius when it came to understanding computers, but he sure didn’t have much on the ball when it came to females.
Still, George always came up with new sex inventions and we heard about some of them from his new friends. I felt bad about it because I wanted to try some of them only George pulled the plug on his interest with us. Like one of his machines, he just turned us off.
So we had to look around for other sensations.
Which weren’t hard to find in an office building as big as ours.
By this time that football hero had a fight with Madelaine so she was dating Sammy Brown, and Sammy had a lot of friends in the mail room. Good-looking men, handsome women, and they were normal like the rest of us. They all enjoyed a good gang-bang.
It was hard to get fucked in the office. Oh, sure there were plenty of eager beavers, people who enjoyed sex and were not afraid to admit it, and there were lots of others who sneaked around with their heads on crooked because they pretended sex didn’t exist. Still, it was very difficult to get laid in the office. The place was like Grand Central Station with people coming and going at all hours until a girl was lucky if she found a place where she could get stuck. I got it in the stockroom and the lunchroom, and one time I let a guy fuck me in the stairway. I needed it so bad one day that I put the make on one of those young runners who brought documents to the office. Like all young studs, he had a perpetual hard-on, so I just let him fuck me. We got between floors and that healthy bastard fucked me up and down the stairs with such frantic pleasure it left bruises on my back. He felt so good afterward that he’ll ran down the stairs, whistling all the way. And then had to ride the elevator back to get his runner pouch.
But mostly there wasn’t much opportunity to get screwed at the office. So as a rule we made our plans there and then met elsewhere for the fuck parties.
Still one definite fact remains. If a girl wants to get fucked bad enough she is going to get it, whether it’s on top of a desk at high noon or in the broom closet down the hall.
And that’s the way it was with those guys in the mail room.
Madelaine came to my desk one say and told me Bruce Cabotie had the hots for me.
“I don’t even know him,” I admitted.
“Sure you do, Martha. Bruce is that Italian guy with the mustache. The one who’s always singing when he’s on break.”
“I still can’t place him.”
“Well, anyway, he wants to screw you.”
“Send him around!”
“He wants a date with you.”
The idea was so old-fashioned, it really appealed to me. Having a third party as a go-between to get a date. I didn’t even know what Bruce looked like, but I told Madelaine okay. And I asked her what happened with her football hero.
“He was too square for me,” she said. “Remember, that night at Doreen’s place? Well, afterwards he cried like a baby and wanted me to promise nothing else like that would ever happen again. He even apologized for screwing around the way he did. It made me sick. That square wants things to be the way they used to be. Fuck him! I ain’t never gonna be a slave to some fucking stud.”
She really got violent when she talked about it so I changed the subject back to Bruce.
“Bring him out and let me meet him,” I asked.
“Naw, that ain’t the way he works, Martha. He wants to pick you up at your apartment Friday at eight.”
“What if I don’t like him?”
“Oh, you’ll like him okay. He’s a handsome bastard and he really can sing. If you like that opera crap.”
So I agreed to the blind date and Bruce came for me right on the dot at eight o’clock. I really got the willies when I opened the door and got a look at him. He was about six feet tall, with a swarthy complexion, dark bushy hair, and a twinkle in his eyes that spelled wild sex. I fell for him right off and asked him in.
Who needed a fucking movie when my bed was ready and waiting!
CHAPTER TEN
Bruce was nervous in my apartment so I fixed us a drink and turned on some music. I tried to find a record that he would like, something with opera, but all my records were rock or soul music.
“Anything’s fine,” he smiled when he saw me fumbling around.
His smile was contagious and Bruce gave me a feeling unlike anything I had experienced. Honest to God, I think I was falling in love with this handsome brute, and it was a delicate, beautiful sensation. Except that my emotions got all twisted until I was thinking about kissing, and squeezing, and hugging, instead of having all my thoughts center between my legs.
But for all my thoughts, I still wanted him to fuck me so I let him do it.
He was different from the usual run of men who realized they had a willing partner. Bruce took me into the bedroom instead of attacking me right there on the sofa. We undressed in the dark and slid between the sheets and he began to feel me up.
“Oooh, you’ve got nice breasts, Martha!” he whispered.
I already knew that, but I didn’t know how strange his hands would feel. I know it was all in my head, from
