jerked out straight toes curling, subsequently returning to engulf him once more as she levered her exposed genitals upward and onto both of his impaling instruments.
Laurie felt her body trembling violently. The carnal scene had completely unnerved her. Her physical need seemed almost viable. Briefly, the deeply embedded moralistic pretension in her soul flared, but the squeak of bedsprings merged with the pictures she had witnessed and could witness, put down all else. She blocked her mind, spread her kneeling thighs and slipped her fingers down between the moist palpitating lips of her own tight little cunt. She found the already distended bud of her clitoris and gently stroked it with her index finger. A million needle points pricked her flesh. Fire raged out of control through her loins and at the same time tears of joy and shame trickled down her cheeks.
She looked down and watched herself spread her thighs farther apart. Now, she could well see the open gap of her cunt-lips obscenely widespread and the wet pinkness of her inner sanctuary. Momentarily, she wished she had a mirror. She gazed down between the proud, firm erectness of her pointed, uplifted breasts, over her flat, soft belly and saw the swollen, excited lips of her own spread pink pussy beneath the red golden strains of pubic hair. She scissored her fingers, opening it even more, feeling it palpitate against them, and then, with a groan she lowered her head as she sunk one finger into the hot viscous opening that led up into her vagina.
She groaned aloud, held her breath, then forced a second up inside her. And with her other hand she began to manipulate her clitoris. Her innerfires became more intense. She pressed a third finger into her vagina, tweaking at her urethra in passing while the noise of bedsprings became more furious and her own need for release more insane. And then, all of a sudden, the sound of their bed and their fucking nearly overwhelmed her and she found herself plunging her extended fingers up into her dilated vaginal channel in tempo with their maddening escapade in the adjoining suite.
Now, she visualized rather than witnessed. She saw their locked bodies wrapped in lurid sex and she rocked back and forth on her knees onto her own fingers, screwing them deeper and deeper into herself. She visualized Mark Coleman's glistening cock ramming its huge thickness into Tonya's clasping, sucking cunt, splitting her crotch like some ecstatic princely shaft of destiny… almost as if the glass-slipper might fit her foot… or was it Snow White… Dear God…
She could hear them, but it was the pictures she conjured in her mind that drove her on, and she settled back on her knees and haunches against her own fingers, worming them deeper into herself. Again, she conjured up the sight of Mark Coleman's thick, glistening prick and her mouth fell open as if he were thrusting it right into her very throat. She gasped emptily, suddenly realizing all she was doing to herself was but a void when it was done.
Oh Christ, she whimpered. What was going to become of her? Her fingers were useless… not enough inside her. She fell forward on her face, tears streaming down her delicate cheeks, her mind filled with the thought of what Tonya Faro was getting from Mark Coleman's cum-filled cock. In desperation she slid her hand up and over her buttocks beneath her robe and searched the wet, crevice… then, rammed her index finger deep into her own tightly clenched rectum, between the voluptuous orbs of her moon-shaped buttocks.
She gasped aloud at her own invasion into the soft, velvety channel of her rectum as additional galvanic charges raced through her quivering body. Furiously she maintained the rhythm of the bouncing bedsprings, screwing her fingers in and out of her wet, palpitating cunt and tight, nibbling anus, her body bent forward until the nipples of her full, white breasts, hanging down, brushed the nap of the carpet sensuously as they swayed from the delicious pummeling she was inflicting upon her own lust-filled genitals.
Oh, God, she was going out of her mind with the delightful bliss of it, and she felt her face flushing with the mounting pressure building in her loins. She was going to… She was… she was…!
But then, came the rattling sound at the outer door…! What…? A key! Phillip…! My God…!
Somehow, she managed to cling to reason even at that mind-shattering stage, extracted her plunging fingers from her tormented, secret orifices, straightened her robe about her and stumbled to the bed. When Phillip walked into the bedroom she was staring up at him with partially glazed, awkward… if wild eyes.
He smiled, paused, then moved toward the bed. 'I thought you'd be all dressed and ready for cocktails,' he said, stopping at the foot of the bed to gaze down at her.
'I… A… just woke up… when you came in,' Laurie managed, licking at her dry lips and trying to control the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and stomach.
'Hey…' he said suddenly, moving around the bed to sit down beside her. 'Don't you feel well…? Your face is all flushed!'
She took the hand he placed on her forehead, clutching and kissing it, his very touch sending tongues of flame licking through her tortured, unfulfilled body. Then, she reached up, encircling his neck and tried to pull him down on top of her.
'Darling…!' she gashed, clawing at him hungrily.
Phillip, taken by surprise, managed to brace his hands against the bed and catch himself as she pulled at him.
'For Christ's sake, Laurie!' he blurted sharply. 'What the hell's gotten into you anyway?'
Roughly, he disengaged the hold she had on him and got to his feet, his thin-lipped mouth whitening irritably. Laurie stared up at him, sensing an additional flush of crimson pouring into her face, a sudden wave of deep shame sweeping over her at his debasing rebuke of her advances. Spontaneously, the tears came and she couldn't contain herself. She rolled onto her belly, burying her face in the pillow and let them flow, her lovely body quaking with convulsive sobs, finding in this a substitute release for both the emotional and physical tensions that had built inside her to the near-bursting point.
She had no idea how long she laid there gasping out her wrought-up passions, but when she finally sat up she saw that she was alone. Slowly, she got from the bed and went into the bath to put cold water on her face and red-rimmed eyes. She refused to allow herself to think, unless she fall into another fit of tears. Instead, she moved about mechanically, applying the cold water packs until the puffiness had disappeared, then, she dressed and combed her hair.
In awhile, Phillip returned. He seemed very uneasy.
'How do you feel?' he said. He stood in the center of the bedroom nervously fidgeting with his hands.
'Fine,' Laurie replied, sitting at the vanity and leaning forward as she applied a thin coating of lipstick to her pouting mouth.
He smiled, his confidence seeming to return. 'Ready for cocktails?'
'Um hum… ready for anything,' she said unenthusiastically.
'We're… ah… going to a party after dinner… at the Colemans'.'
'Oh…?'
'I… ah… I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Laurie,' he said, walking to the dresser and picking up his brushes to run over his temples. 'They're quite the party-throwers, I understand.'
Momentarily, flickering lewd scenes of Mark Coleman and Tonya Faro's salacious escapade in the next suite only a short time before, passed quickly through Laurie's mind. She smiled to herself. Finally, she said: 'Yes… I bet they are at that.'
CHAPTER FOUR
Cocktails and dinner with Phillip was a near disaster; he was in a bad mood and Laurie did nothing to try and brighten it. The atmosphere between them was strained and filled with pretense. Although her febrile cravings of a short time earlier lay dormant, they were still very much a part of her. Two manhattans before eating helped, but it was not until A.C. Faro handed her the third scotch and soda at the Colemans' party that she really began to unwind.
The big house was filled with guests; some she knew, others she was introduced to by the Commissioner who had seemingly taken her under his wing the moment they arrived. Dianne Coleman had met them at the door looking seductively beautiful, dripping smiles all over Phillip as if she'd known him a lifetime, surprising Laurie to no end. What was more nonexpectant was the strange, almost disconcerting expression her husband had assumed on his boyish face. Laurie couldn't decide whether it was a look of anger, bewilderment, or both; anyway, she
