reached down and cupped his sac. It was tight and his balls were soft. She played with his nuts; they were just like Marsha's tits. God… nice, she liked them… Then she found his asshole, all wet from the drops of her juice that came coursing out of her cunt.
'Uhh!' he jumped, feeling her slender finger jab into his asshole. 'Good girl… stick it in farther… yeah yeah… huuhhhh!'
'Oh, no! I'm gonna cum!' she was whimpering above him. 'Hurry! Shoot your wad into me!'
'Together, honey,' he panted. 'I want to keep balling you, but I can't hold it back any more. I've wanted to squirt it into your slot the minute you climbed on top of me.'
'Now!' she cried. 'Now!'
She felt an explosion, an incredible blast shaking beneath her. A thick gob of his jism roared up into her cunt, never to be found again. A second stream of cum shot into her, moistening up her quickly drying hole. A third and fourth load pumped into her, this time flooding her, causing her to leak. She tried picking herself off his blood- engorged cock, but she felt too weak, too exhausted. Each time he blew some spunk into her cunt, she felt stunned, wounded. He was weakening her with his wad. There was no way she could get off his click, for she was sitting on it too deep. It was too far in for her to remove it.
'Jesus…' he kept mumbling behind her. 'Oh, Jesus… you sweet pussy-cunt… take it all, take it all out of my rocks.'
His cock began shriveling, sliding out of her hole. The feeling of having it shrink, soften, triggered off another orgasm. She shook on top of him, crying out. There was no stopping her now, no, she would fuck him dry… dry…
She fell off him, exhausted, breathing quickly.
Her body rolled on top of him, lifeless, spent. It was like getting fucked to death by a monstrous cock.
Afterward, he zipped up his pants and grinned at her. 'Hey, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat.'
She nodded, pulling her dress over her shoulders.
But behind that smile, she felt scared. Fucking Steve was so different from Marsha. It was almost… better. She felt changed now. Different.
Sex with a guy made everything so different.
But what if Marsha found out? Frightened, she pushed the thought from her mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Margot Jordon was hunched over Phil Daniels' naked body with his stiff cock lodged between her smooth, silicone tits. She had his fat peter sandwiched in between her tits so that she could jack him off that way, pressing, rubbing. Phil was lying back on the bed, groaning as she ground herself against him.
'Do it harder, baby…' he moaned. 'Rub my prick harder. I want to feel my jism squirting between your boobs in a few minutes…'
She smiled. Hell, it was the easiest way of getting out of fucking him. That artificial cunt she had couldn't hold up forever, seeing that he was hung so well. Anyway, she was enjoying this, pleasing him. When she had been that faggy fruitcake Harold in her previous life, she had a difficult time getting a good piece of meat to munch on. Harold used to get beat up from propositioning some of the guys in bars he met. But not any more. Margot struck pay dirt with Phil. He was one of Playpen's best fuckers. Well, he came a close second to Steve Hayes and his rumored KING COCK. There was time to find out about that. Right now…
'Get my nuts in there, too,' Phil was telling her. 'Yeah… stroke my hairy root… you're whacking me off real good… pull those knockers of yours around my pecker a little tighter… I want to feel the nipples hugging against my big roll of beef. Pull on it for me… ahh.'
'Gonna make you cum,' she whispered. 'Gonna make you blow your top. Do you like what I'm doing to your prick, baby? Does it feel good?'
'Yeah… I love it… your tits are so hard so firm… ohhh… pull on it some more.'
Margot's hand reached for the jar of Vaseline and rubbed some more of it between her tits so he had extra lubrication. She knew she was driving him wild. His tool kept growing, getting harder between her plump tomatoes. There was only one thing to worry about, and that was that her cunt could never get wet. She had to shove some K-Y into her makeshift twat so that Steve could hump her in the pussy. Thank God he never asked her why she didn't get wet.
Phil's dick was throbbing between her knobs. She could feel its pulse running wildly, burning inside the flesh of her titties.
'I love your melons,' he grunted. 'But I'm thinkin' about that melon patch, too. Want to stick my dong between those nice hairy labes of yours… plow my ramrod into your muff… jack off your clit.'
'I feel like cumming, just doing this,' Margot was panting but knew that she couldn't. Damn it, but once Dr. Hamilton clipped his small, limp cock with those scissors, Harold/Margot knew that she/he could never cum again. Well, those were the breaks.
'Oh, Jesus!' Phil was gasping. 'I'm cumming! I'm gonna pop my pea right into those tits of yours!'
He bucked beneath her, then let a thick white stream of cock-juice squirt out of his fat cock-head. It pumped like syrup into her cleavage, mixing with the Vaseline in gooey gobs. He moaned as she absorbed his load into her tits.
Margot stayed hunched over him, waiting until Phil shot his wad all over her boobs, then rolled off and got a towel. 'Damn it, but it seems like I've been wiping off more jism today.'
He grinned, relaxing on his back. 'When you take care of that, you get your ass back over here and we'll get some heavy fucking done.'
She smiled, slipping into the bathroom. As she was washing the cum and Vaseline off her chest, she noticed the calendar sitting neatly on her dresser by the door. Tomorrow's day was marked with a big H. She remembered that she had to see Dr. Hamilton tomorrow for another hormone shot. He had to give them to her regularly so that her voice and looks would stay feminine.
'Hurry up, baby,' Phil called from the bedroom. 'I got a hard-on already.'
She threw the towel aside and went back into bed.
While Margot was laying Phil, Gregg Connelly moped angrily on his own bed, pulling on his pud and gasping over some of the back issues of Playpen with Margot's pictures. Fucking cunt, ignoring him like that. He knew she didn't give a slit about him. It was that photographer Phil Daniels that she was after. How could she do this to him when he always had such a stiff joint bulging out of his pants? That hard-on wasn't for other chicks; it was for her.
Gregg's cock was pretty thick. If only she would look at it, maybe she would change her mind. Maybe she'd blow him or fuck him. Maybe…
No, he sighed. It was that fucking Phil Daniels. There was no way he could remove the competition. Unless.
An idea popped into his mind. He smiled to himself. Of course, he thought. Now he knew what to do. It was the only thing left…
CHAPTER NINE
Sharon North felt her arms tied as she began to come to. She felt groggy, sleepy… her throat hurt. And then she remembered, that construction worker, the one with the beard and the dark hair, shoving his long dick into her mouth, making her go to sleep. She shuddered as the scene flashed through her mind. That rigid prick, jamming down her throat, cutting off her air and then blackness.
George Colby was sitting not far away, his clothes entirely off. She, too, was completely undressed. He must have taken them off while she was knocked out. It was dark all around her. They were still in the office. The clock on the wall showed seven-thirty. She must have been unconscious for a long time.
