needed to be tapped to ripple from one end to the other. Her tits dangled down so that her nipples chafed against the rug, and those tits excited me just as much. I grabbed for them a couple of times to savage them with milking motions, and each time I did she screamed out with joy. As long as I kept my cock moving in and out of her cunt, all the rest was gravy for her. Squeezing, slapping, fucking, and frothing at the mouth with abandonment, I kept her rising steadily. She started with small orgasms, mere firecrackers, and gradually moved on to small bombs, big bombs, nuclear ones, the works! Toward the end she was out of control, screaming and yelling obscenities, wiggling her ass, writhing about with her face on the floor, fucking me as hard as I was fucking her. I beat her ass till it was red all over, flaming with pain, and even then I couldn't stop. I was like a jockey whipping his mount over the finish line and then whipping it into the winner's circle. Nora wanted it all the way to the stable as well. Several times I had to shove my dick deep into her so that the sensitive glands would be protected against stimuli. And while I rested my cock she demanded more action, more pain and humiliation!
My arms grew tired before my cock did. I was hitting her with closed fists to keep her happy, and my cock had become a secondary part of the whole twisted process. Nora was cursing me out from all angles, dragging my ancestry, my relationship with my mother, and my intellect into the fray, and stomping on them ruthlessly. The more she insulted me the more I beat her. I came, and that didn't stop it. Now at least I could pub out and get a good shot at her face. I dragged her up by the hair and snapped her head back to deliver a haymaker. At that point she smiled beatifically and told me I was the greatest lover ever.
'What?' I said, dumbfounded.
'That was beautiful, Joe. You're a real he-man,' she said, falling around my neck and kissing me. 'Let's do it one more time. I love the way you do me! Come on, once more, what do you say?' Her cunt was moving against my cock most suggestively, and she was rubbing her tits into my chest.
'Er… let's have a cigarette first,' I suggested.
'You can smoke while you fuck me,' she said feverishly. 'I'll get you hard again, Joe, don't worry about that. All you have to do is tell me you want me again. Aren't I the most passionate fuck you've had?'
'Yes, you are that.' Damn it! I didn't feel like fucking right then. I was tired, run down, my cock hung between my legs like an old pickle, and on top of all that she didn't make a very pretty sight. Her face was red and swollen, there were bruises all over her arms and shoulders, and her cunt drooled with my sperm. No, I had to recover psychically before I could even hope for an erection. 'But you have to give me ten minutes grace before the next bout.'
'I'll wait,' she said brightly. She lay on the unmade bed and began to play with her pussy. She dipped one finger into her runny hole and then smeared the sperm all over the insides of her cunt, over her belly and her thighs, and when that whole area was greasy she rubbed herself up with both hands. Her body started to undulate, less suggestively than commandingly, and her eyes were fixed on mine. I smoked in earnest. When the cigarette was less than half an inch long Nora started to smile broadly and opened her cunt up for me to enter once more. I couldn't do it! Once was more than enough. There was nothing for it but to throw her out, much as I hated to hurt her feelings.
I was saved by a sudden intrusion. There was a knock on the door, then it opened and in came Peggy. She was a mess. Her dress was in tatters, her corn rowed hair had been pulled at and stuck out every which way, and there were bloody scratches all over her face and other exposed parts of her body. Nora thought it was someone of the same sexual persuasion as herself and took little more notice of her. But I jumped up and took her into my arms. 'What happened? Did you have an accident?'
'An accident!' Peggy shook her head and sank down on the bed. She hadn't really noticed Nora, all she cared about was a cigarette and a moment to catch her breath. 'They're crazy! Those girls are the type that ought to be locked away from polite society forever! As for Miss Parsons!' She couldn't think of what to say about the leader of the push, so she shook her head and drew deeply on the cigarette I'd lit for her.
'Miss Parsons?' Nora chimed in. 'Hey, are you talking about that lady at the school?'
'That's the one,' I said dismissively.
'She's the sister of the psychiatrist I go to,' Nora announced with a note of triumph in her voice. 'Isn't it a small world? The psychiatrist is her younger sister, you know, lovely woman, but a bit strange. Still, they say they're all a bit crazy, right?' Nora laughed, but we didn't join her.
'Hey Nora, listen honey, I've got a lot of business to attend to,' I said, picking up her clothes and hand-big them to her. 'We'll get together tomorrow maybe, all right? Right now I'll have to ask you to leave.'
'Oh… okay, sure,' she said moodily. 'But you will be here tomorrow? I mean, you're not just saying that?'
'I'll do my best.' Nora left, hardly satisfied. I turned back to Peggy and asked her to tell me what had happened. Apparently she had gone to the school and approached Linda through her contact. Linda had played it straight, pretended to believe her story, and taken her to the gym where Peggy was told to strip and wait. Some minutes later the whole club entered the gym and locked the place up. 'It was like a hockey team,' said Peggy. 'They terrified me. All those tough little girls in their uniforms, eyeing me like cats, and before I could stop them they had me tied against the wall bars. Linda was the one who incited them. She told the girls that I was a spy and that they should teach me a good lesson. Oh Joe, it was horrible. They all came at me with their claws out, mean as bobcats, and I'm hurting all over.'
'Alright, let it out,' I said gently. 'You just lie down and rest while I check on Parsons' sister. By the way, did you see Vinnie before you left?'
'Oh yeah, but he was too busy to tell me what he was doing.'
'I'll bet,' I said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I had underestimated Vinnie. When I stepped out Of the motel room he drove up and opened the door for me. 'They're going crazy in Parsons' house, boss,' he reported. 'The whole club is there and they're drinking and partying like the world's gonna end tomorrow! They've got the money all over the floor like a carpet and if you want to take it back, now is the time to strike.'
'Good man,' I said, getting into the passenger seat. 'But first drive to this address.' I told him the street and number that I'd found in the phone book next to 'Parsons, Rita, Psych.' We had to ask directions all the way, but at last we saw the house she lived in, a Victorian mansion set on top of a hill overlooking the woods. There was a widow's walk on the roof, and I was willing to bet the Moorehead school was visible from there. I parked the car some distance away and, following Vinnie, snuck through the bushes to get to the house unnoticed. There was no way of knowing whether Laurel was in the house or not; we had to take our chances. Vinnie was very clever at moving through the undergrowth, a skill picked up during his voyeur years. In the minimum of time he brought us to the side of the house, and I peered carefully over a window sill to get my bearings.
The house seemed empty of people. Not a sound could be heard. Inside it looked cozy, expensive, and bookish, and as we circled the place it became clear that Rita Parsons liked the finer things in life. Also, she was an out-and-out dyke. I saw statues of naked women, paintings of them, and framed photos. When we clambered up on the balcony and checked out the bedroom we saw a variety of dildos lying about on the bedside table, and there were men's clothes in the wardrobe. Silently we tiptoed through the bedroom, keeping our ears peeled for the slightest sound. Not till we were at the bottom of the stairs did the first faint sound reach us. It was a tiny scream, and it seemed to come from below us. Vinnie and I looked everywhere to find an entrance to a cellar. There were no doors, no trapdoors, no way of getting below the ground floor.
'Hey boss, come over here!' Vinnie whispered. He had his ear pressed to the join of two bookcases. 'You can hear better here!'
I listened until another faint scream arose and, sure enough, it was much clearer there than in any part of the house. 'Remember those horror movies?' I said to Vinnie. He nodded and started to push and pull at nearby objects in the hope of finding the lever that would open the door for us. The trouble was that there were hundreds of likely objects within range and, without the guarantee that one of them would work, it was silly to try them all. We stood at that crack for a few minutes, listening and trying to decide what to do. Then the sounds stopped.
'Quick, hide behind those drapes!' I hissed. We waited with bated breath. Suddenly the bookcases swung
