tried to make as much noise as possible, so the landlady wouldn't notice two sets of footsteps. She didn't open the door this time and he sighed with relief when they were in his apartment. He made Stella take off her shoes while he turned on the radio, filling the quiet room with enough sound to make it difficult for the landlady to hear specific noises.
'Boy, this is a nice place,' Stella whispered as Tom led her to his bedroom; his eager hands had already slipped up her skirt, pulling down her panties as they walked through the rooms. His hand rested on the cheeks of her ass, feeling every movement with each step she took, while his middle finger slipped into her asshole.
Once they were in his room, he turned her to face him, using his finger in her ass to force her body tight against his, and kissed her with a tongue-chasing, open mouth. As they kissed, he used his finger to raise her to her toes, snuggling the bulge in his pants into the cozy nest between her legs.
It was a momentous occasion, Tom thought, to fuck someone in his bedroom. He unplugged Stella's rectum and began undressing. Stella didn't need any coaxing; she hastily undressed and got on his bed to wait for him. Tom crawled up from the foot of the bed, kissing her legs as he went, then furiously attacked her cunt with a sucking mouth and snaking tongue. Stella wiggled and contorted with delight. He licked his way up her stomach, around her tits, sucking the hard, nut-like nipples into his mouth, nibbling and biting them – going back and forth from one to the other. Then he covered her mouth with his, drove his tongue in as far as possible, while he sheathed his sword into the depths of her warm, moist slit. His tongue and mouth muffled the noises coming from deep in her throat as she writhed with passion, calming down after reaching an orgasm.
Tom drove his cock in and out of her in a dreamy, slow-motion, pumping action that brought him to the peak of excitement without exploding his charge. Gently, he increased the depth of each plunge, listening to the gurgling sounds in Stella's throat and the squishing sound of her juicing cunt, which sent out an aroma of breathtaking perfume that tantalized Tom's nostrils. Then Stella began to meet his down strokes with an upward thrust of her hips and he spilled his insides into the fire of her cunt.
Tom slid off her, falling on his back with exhaustion and taking deep, lung-filling gasps of air. But Stella was still full of life. She knelt over his cock and began licking off the mixture of juices. Her tongue gave the area a thorough cleaning before sucking his balls into her mouth, one at a time, saturating them with saliva. For Stella this was love; having someone to do whatever she felt like doing to and receiving pleasures she never dreamed possible. She didn't see a skinny, bony man under her – he was her lover, and to keep him she had to please him.
Tom reached down and grabbed one of her ankles, pulling it over him until she was straddling his stomach. Then he pulled her up farther, her wet, matted bush sliding up his chest to his mouth. His tongue spewed flames into her panting sex, slipping back to her asshole, where it tickled and tingled inside her. She clamped his head between her legs and rubbed her sizzling cunt all over his face, wiggling and grinding until she reached a climax. Then he rolled her over on her back and knelt over her face, forcing the knob of his hardened cock between her lips, before she could catch her breath from all the exertion of her orgasm. She gagged and choked, but Tom continued to force his ballooning cock down her throat.
There was a sinister thrill to cramming his fat meat into her gasping mouth, Tom thought. And until she caught her breath, he watched her face contort in what closely resembled fear. Like someone drowning and unable to get any air. Her eyes were saucer wide, her nostrils flaring and her mouth in a perfect 'O' shape, which he felt was a perfect example of shocked surprise. He was almost disappointed when she relaxed, allowing his cock to slip farther down her throat. But the shocked expression returned when his semen squirted down her throat, flooding her mouth, spilling out the corners and oozing down her face. He forced her to keep his cock lodged in her throat until the last throb and last drop was out of it. Then he grinned down at her as he watched her swallow deeply to regain her breath.
For a while they just lay on the bed contented, talking in whispers. Then he fixed lunch, which they devoured hungrily. Then they returned to the bed again, toying with each other, snuggling close, kissing and whispering obscenities. But as it got near the time for Stella to fetch her books and report home, she wanted one more ride on his pleasure stick. This time there was urgency, so she chose to take it the way she had the first time his cock broke into her treasure cove – kneeling over him and impaling herself. Only this time she had no trouble finding the spot that felt so good and it went in without any stinging. She grinned down at him and slid up and down on his cock until he lurched forward, grabbed her ass and pulled her down, holding her tight against himself while he came. And for Stella this was the best fuck of the day.
CHAPTER NINE
Charles called his uncle every other day, from Christmas on, to see if they could move back into the store. But it was a full week after the first of the year before his Uncle Art finally told him the store was empty. Their big plans for a wild New Year's Eve party fizzled out with the disappointment of not having the store in time.
More discouragement met them when they returned to the store for the first time. The place was a mess from front to back. Pine needles, twigs and sap were ground into the floors of every room. The black paint on the windows had been scraped off. The bathroom resembled a restroom in a dirty gas station, even to the point that the bowl was clogged with tissue and overflowing.
'If we fix this place up again,' Tom questioned Charles, 'how long will it be before your uncle needs it?'
'He rents it out from Easter through Mother's Day,' Charles answered. 'The same guys sells plans and flowers at that time.'
'The fucks really know how to wreck a place,' Tom said as he walked slowly through the rooms, viewing the situation and deciding how much effort to put into cleaning it up.
'It smells like a pine forest in here,' Jay said, taking a deep breath and enjoying the aroma.
'It's going to take a crash program to get this place in order,' Tom said. 'So let's get on the STICK! We'll go back to Ridgewood and round up as many people as we can for tomorrow night. The girls can clean the floors, kitchen and bathroom, while the guys give this joint a coat of paint.'
'We only have two nights to paint this whole place?' Charles said doubtfully.
'Six guys should be able to get most of it done,' Tom said. 'And what we don't finish Friday night we can come back Saturday morning.'
'Just bring on the beer,' Jay said optimistically, 'and we'll do it in one night.'
As it turned out they did manage to finish painting by late Friday night. The girls scrubbed the floors, the appliances and the bathroom fixtures in one night and joined in with the painting on Friday. Everyone worked with feverish determination, not wanting to wait a minute more than necessary to get back to their sex games. For most, the five weeks had been void of physical contact completely. Only exhaustion, and the fact that it was too late to bring in the mattresses Friday night, prevented them from beginning a night earlier. But by Saturday afternoon everything was back to the way it was before Christmas and Tom was working himself into the proper state of mind to lead them through the rituals.
As the hour he had waited so patiently for finally neared, Tom Dunn began to experience nervous anxiety. Not since theft last meeting had he given any thought to that mysterious, spooky glow on the wall. Now it was all he could think about. Was the answer to eliminating it as simple as just not mentioning Satan's name? Then why? That would only confirm the fact that it was supernatural. What else had they done about Satan? He wrestled with the decision a little longer and finally decided to go along with the latter.
By turning over the services to Cynthia, he would lose control of the group and never get a chance to release some of his sadistic ideas, he reasoned. And Cynthia didn't put on enough showmanship when she was leading them. His decision began to make more sense as he caught the bus to Maspeth, arriving before the others to set the scene for the meeting.
The four trays that held the burning incense hung from wall brackets in each corner of the room, almost above his reach. His last chore before ringing the bell to summon the congregation was to light the sticks of incense, reaching up and dropping them one by one into the trays. Then he opened the skylight enough to allow just a slight venting of the room, so they wouldn't be uncomfortable.
The congregation filed in, beaming with broad smiles and nervous anticipation of the delights they were about to witness. They took their places, kneeling on the pillows and looking around the room to see if Tom was
