Although working in a pleasantly air-conditioned building, George Colby was getting increasingly warm every time he caught a glimpse of sexy Sharon North running down the hall or sitting in front of her typewriter, or talking to the other girls. Goddamn, but he was a lucky dude to get to work at the Playpen Magazine Building, remodeling several floors and getting an eyeful of pussy eight hours a day. There were so many fucking cunts walking around, just waiting to get laid and hoping somebody would notice and give them the needed cure. Hell, just about all the construction jobs he had, there was enough snatch to go around with other guys, he himself taking a good crop of cunt. Yeah — like that one job he had at that real-estate building. Jesus Christ, that one red-headed broad, the one with the big tits, she smiled at him a lot and dropped her eyes down to the impressive bulge pressing out of his blue jeans, and licked her lips. The next minute, they were in the supply room with him sitting on top of some boxes and that foxy chick bent down on her knees, ripping at his fly and pulling out his ***** engorged cock, stuffing it hungrily into her mouth. The inside of her mouth was so nice, and her style of manipulating his meat helped him to cum pretty fast. Shit, it was a quickie, but it served the purpose and relieved some of his horniness for the rest of that day.
But that Sharon North — she was built pretty good. He liked the way her fluffy red hair was tossed from side to side when she moved. He’d like to see it rolling around underneath him when he shoved his prick into her box while he fucked her, watching her groaning at him, pressing those luscious lips together, and batting those bright green eyes and pressing those plump boobs up against his hairy chest. He could just picture her buck-used naked, pushing her lightly tanned thighs up towards his, rubbing her furry little crotch on his stiff cock, and screaming out as he stuffed it into her cunt. He could grab hold of her tiny waist and fleshy ass with his big muscular hands and keep her still while he plunged his rock-hard rod into her moist muff, which would just be waiting for him to pump some jism into it. Then those long legs would wrap themselves around him, her fret touching his ass, almost BEGGING him to fuck her harder. And he would, ramming that slab of beef so deep into her cunt that her eyes would pop out of their sockets — not all the way, though. She would kiss him along his neck, sucking gently, then fiercely, her hands running down his hairy arms and scratching his back lightly, moving them towards his balls. She was probably the type that liked to play with guys’ balls while she was getting banged. Her fingers would brush against the hair on his nuts, softly, tenderly, holding the bag in her hands and squeezing, but not hard. And while this was going on, his whang would feel her clit getting bigger and larger, and she would be groaning louder and her pussy-juice dripping down and making his prick real slippery so that it would be easy to keep it in her hole. Yeah, he could make her feel real good. And even though he had a thin cock, it was nine and a half inches long. So she, would have herself a nice fuck. Usually, when he fucked, he put his cock in slow, almost teasingly, and withdrew it as quickly as possible. It would go in again, then out… nice and easy. Most of the chicks he screwed went out of their minds with this kind of warm-up, since it gave their clits a slick oiling. When they were juicy wet, he would charge right in there, and fuck her brains out with swift jerking motions until he was at the brink of orgasming her to death, then he’d slow down and prolong his orgasm, while she’d cum and cum and cum. One time, he got a chick to shoot her rockets off thirteen times in a row before he shot his load. Shit, she was so crazy for his fucking that she bought him presents all the time, and cooked him good meals and was his obedient slave. He loved all the attention he got, but he got tired of it after a while and took off for greener pastures. And some better ass.
Sharon glanced up at him for a minute, smiled a flashy smile, and went back to her typing. Her little hands were darting across those keys faster than he had ever seen a secretary type before. He wondered what other things she could do with her hands. He dug a good hand-job once in a while. Of course, he preferred a blow-job to one, but there were times when the hand was quicker than the tongue.
She was probably aware that he was staring at her tits. Could be she liked being watched. Hell, he’d love to have those enormous melons of hers rubbing between his legs while she gave his dong a great sucking, love to feel her nipples hardening against the inside of his hairy legs.
George went about, measuring the length of the doorway where a new one was to replace the one already standing. It seemed as though he had done construction work all his life, as had his father and grandfather. It angered him, knowing that he would never make anything better of his life, yet there was little he could do about his fate. Obviously, he was destined to do menial labor. And the thing of it was, cunts like Sharon North took in more cash per month than he did, even with the light typing and dictation she had to do. Damn, but it pissed him off. It wasn’t fair, Goddamn, it just wasn’t.
Look at that dumb twat, smiling at him. It made him so damn mad that he wanted to fuck her real hard, until her ass hurt and she couldn’t cross her legs. Thought she was high-class stuff, executive material. Not a chance, baby. His time was coming up with her, soon enough, and it would be a time that she would never forget.
He took one last look at her and left.
Sharon North brushed back her long red hair and took a peek at her wristwatch. Shit! Only quarter after three! And she had to stay until five today because Cindy hadn’t come in and that left most of the work up to Sharon to do. She suspected Cindy did it on purpose, Wednesdays being the busiest, especially with the up-coming holiday issues to type copy; her boss being off on a stockholder’s meeting also assured her having to answer the phones all by herself. Well, like it or not, she was going to take a fifteen-minute break and run down to the ladies’ room for a few earfuls of gossip that Wendy might be saving for her.
She noticed that that construction worker had disappeared again. Thank God. She was getting nervous from his staring at her. What was it with him? Probably a pervert, the building was full of them. Whenever you work for a company that puts out a magazine jammed with pictures of naked women, and occasionally men, in obscene positions, you could count on perverts galore. It made her wonder how she was still able to keep hold of her virginity so that she could lose it to her husband on her wedding night.
That construction worker wasn’t bad-looking at all. She liked the color of his hair — chestnut-brown. He was so muscular and hairy. And tall. That thick mustache made him look ultra-virile. The beard was okay, but covered most of his face. Thank God it wasn’t long and stringy. She wondered if he slept with a lot of girls. It wouldn’t have shocked her if he did. But he was built so well, and was so rugged, that she wouldn’t have minded talking to him, had he come over to her.
In the ladies room, Sharon found Dolly Ebert smoothing some powder on her soft face. Usually, Sharon avoided Dolly because she talked dirty about men and sex and things that disgusted her.
“Sharon, I thought you were still out at lunch,” Dolly grinned when she spotted her.
“No, I came back early. Lots of work to do.”
“That’s too bad. You really should loosen up more, darling. You look so worried all the time. Look at me. My boy friend eats me out before I get here, and I feel marvelous all day.”
Sharon swallowed hard. “Wonderful.”
“It is, really. Hell, you don’t have to give that bastard a map in order to find my clit. He lets his fingers do the walking. Jimmy says that cunt-juice gives him some sort of protein that carries him through the day easy. Like a fantastic high.”
In order not to show her embarrassment, Sharon began applying a fresh coat of make-up to her face. She wished that Dolly would leave soon.
Dolly examined her face for a minute. “Why, Sharon, what’s the matter? Hasn’t your boy friend been treating you well at all? I know, honey, he bugs you about the blow-jobs too much. What those jack-offs won’t do to get their cocks sucked. Shit, they’re always trying to give me this impression that their brains are between their legs. Brain Food Number 1! Bullshit on that! If that’s the thing, then Jimmy comes out with some pretty wild brain storms!”
“Really…” She could have cared less.
“Jesus Christ, my Jimmy’s got a dick that would send shivers up your pussy. I mean, when I first saw it. I thought he was crazy, wanting me to put that thing in my mouth. But he grabbed hold of my head and kept pushing it down on his joint until my lips were giving his rocks butterfly kisses. And when he came, he was expecting me to swallow all of his wad. I don’t know but I never really dug it before. I mean, spunk has such a flat taste to it that I’d rather spit it out, but Jimmy would have none of that. He held my head down on his prick while he was emptying his balls, and even with me screaming and fighting, he pumped it all into my mouth. After that, I go wild when I even suspect the prospect of a blow-job. Talk about pucker-power!”
Oh, God, Dolly was getting so gross. How could she have the nerve to talk about such things?
“But even before I do the blow-job, he makes me give him a good lick-down. Y’know, down the chest, around the balls and pud — because you save that for last — around his legs and I finally end up at his toes. Then he makes me suck on his toes for a while. Shit, that prick of his springs up like an inflated balloon. He must have some kind of yeast in his peter to make it stiff so fast.”
Sharon couldn’t help frowning. It was so vulgar to hear those things…
“After I suck him off, he loves to do the corn-cob bit. Y’know, up my ass. And his cock’s still hard as a rock. Talk about 7-Up! He’ll turn me over on my stomach and start eating out my ass. Jimmy likes to do it natural. We don’t believe in Vaseline or stuff like that. Makes my cunt too itchy. So he gets my asshole all wet and slippery with his tongue. Oh, don’t worry, I wipe myself good before we do it. Jimmy would have a fit if I didn’t. And let me tell you, when that rigid ramrod gets shoved up there, it’s absolute heaven…”
“I think I better be getting back to my desk, Dolly,” Sharon interrupted. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. It was nice talking to you.”
Dolly looked her over. “Did I say something that got you upset?”
“No, I just have to…”
“Sharon, don’t you like talking about fucking? I mean it isn’t some sort of ugly thing.”
Sharon blushed. “I know.”
Dolly laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten — Oh, come on, now, haven’t you and your boy friend — Hey, what was his name?”
“I… I don’t have a boy friend.”
“You don’t! Then… Sharon, are you still a virgin?”
It was hard to keep smiling. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”
Dolly was hysterical. She giggled so loud that Sharon felt like hiding. “You’re a virgin! I don’t believe it! With your set of knobs! I always thought you fucked around, but you’re still a virgin. Jesus Christ!”
Sharon fled from the ladies’ room on the verge of tears. It was cruel for Dolly to laugh. Why was it such a big joke to save yourself for marriage? What was so terrible about it? Girls like Dolly were so foolish to brag about the things they did in bed with their boy friends. How could they be so proud of themselves for doing such sickening, crude things? What was so wonderful about sticking a man’s penis into your mouth and having him ejaculate into it? God, the thought of it made her gag! Life had more to it than sex.
The deep voice of Gary Speele brought her thoughts back to reality. “Hey, baby, how about a nice hot fuck?”
She frowned at him. “Get away from me, Gary.”
“Awwww, honey, you never give me a chance. I could show you a great time with my fantastic eight-inch dong.”
“I got a better offer down the hall,” she sneered.
He was offended. “Shit on you, ***. My pecker is the great Red Wood. Any broad that’s gotten fucked by it has never complained, and let me tell you, bitch, I’ve nailed ’em all. Except you.”
“Such a shame I have to spoil your batting average, but I think I’d rather skip my innings with you.”
Too bad Gary was such a pervert, thought Sharon. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy. That light-brown hair and smooth, handsome face might be a more lively attraction if he thought of other things besides admiring that thing between his legs. And the wonders it could produce. So what if she was a virgin? She’d prefer sleeping with someone she truly loved than doing it with someone just for lust.
Sharon brushed her long, fluffy red hair back and glanced down at her bust. Yes, she did have large breasts, or “knobs”, as Dolly insisted on calling them. But it didn’t make her crave sex any more than it made her want to jump but a window from the thirtieth floor.
“So long, baby,” Gary waved off. “Looks like you don’t get a peek at this prime-cut. Like Adam in Eden. Or Busch Gardens!”
That construction worker was back again, the one that had been working down the hall and staring at her every so often. She was almost positive he was focusing his eyes on her chest. And even then, he was lowering them and observing the fold of her skirt between her legs. Damn it, but he was making her so nervous. She wished he would go away.
Gary had long since left. She laughed to herself. She didn’t even notice him when he walked away from her. Did she want a nice hot fuck? Ridiculous, she pushed the thought aside and went back to work.
CHAPTER TWO
Marsha Stewart was leaning back in her comfortable desk chair with her feet kicked up and a manuscript resting on her lap. She dragged luxuriously on her Virginia Slim, glancing at the typewritten pages in front of her. She muffled a laugh when she spotted the author’s name. Manfield Munchclit. Shit, they were still using THOSE kind of names on these porno stories, were they? Ashamed that they were submitting smut to a porno magazine and still wanting to be paid for it. Marsha wondered how far one of those guys would get if she had made the check payable only to Manfield Munchclit and not Norman Schwartz, whose name was listed beneath in parentheses.
Marsha Stewart was not a bad-looking woman for someone pushing forty. She had auburn hair and an attractive face. Her legs were long and slender, as was the rest of her figure. Marsha removed her sunglasses and placed them on her desk, rubbing her sore eyes. She often wore sunglasses indoors, especially with those Goddamn bright fluorescent lights. She reached out and pressed the intercom button.
“Yes,” came an unfamiliar voice.
“Isn’t Miss Harris at her desk?” Marsha demanded to know.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stewart, Miss Harris is out,” replied the sweet voice.
“Where did Miss Harris say she was going?” Marsha was annoyed.
“She… uh… she went to the **** store,” said the woman at her desk. “She had to… purchase sanitary napkins.”
“JESUS CHRIST, SHE’S ON THE RAG AGAIN!” Marsha shrieked loudly. “She’s always running out for Kotex. That’s all I hear! With all that money she’s spending on Kotex, I hope she intends to claim it on her federal income tax return!”
“Yes, Miss Stewart,” replied the voice.
“Tell her to get her ass in here first thing she gets back,” Marsha ordered her.
“Yes, Miss Stewart.”
Marsha scowled as she leaned back in her chair. That Carole Harris was good for shit, that’s what she was! she fumed. She paid that girl seven hundred and fifty dollars a month to be her secretary, not to pretend she was Moses parting the Red Sea.
The manuscripts on her desk were scattered about recklessly. She snatched one up and started to read it, hoping to get her mind off her runaway secretary. The one she was reading was a love story about a nymphomaniac and a speedy-playing harmonica player, and how he was able to hit HER high notes. Oh, CHRIST! she grimaced, throwing it aside. What next!
A half-hour later, Carole Harris, tall, blonde and out of breath, came rushing into Marsha’s office with a steno pad.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Miss Stewart…” she gasped.
Marsha indicated that she close the door. After she did so, her boss was at ease, leaning against the side of her desk. “What’s all this ‘Miss Stewart’ crap? I thought that was only in front of the others.”
Carole brushed a thick lock of hair from her face and looked down. “I’m sorry, Marsha, I…”
Marsha put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it.
“What is there to be sorry about, darling? Did the **** store have a run on Tampax?”
“Marsha, don’t do this to me…” Carole begged her. “Please.”
“I wouldn’t dream of passing up the chance,” Marsha snapped. “Tell me, Carole, is nil that office gossip true? Does the great Steven Hayes have a long dick? I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about how well-hung he is, so I’ve often been curious to find out.”
“Marsha, please listen…”
“I’m not listening to any more bullshit from you!” she hissed. “I’ve let things go far enough. Christ, I don’t even know who to believe.”
“I don’t even care for him,” Carole tried to explain. “All we did was go out for lunch…”
Marsha slipped next to her and kissed her on the cheek. Her hand reached out and cupped Carole’s tit. The nipple was hard and throbbing. Marsha smiled and kissed Carole again, this time giving the kiss a sucking sensation. Carole closed her eyes and groaned. “D-Don’t stop… that feels good…”
Marsha’s fingers slid down to Carole’s crotch and rubbed. A wet warmness could be felt. “Tell me, darling, does Steven do this to you? Or this?”
Carole shook her head. “N-No, we don’t… didn’t do anything… nothing…”
Marsha sucked along her neck, stroking Carole’s cunt-mound with tender movements. Carole became like putty in her hands, her possession once again. Foolish Steven Hayes, thinking he could go around and drop his load into all the girls in the office. She had heard that loud-mouth Dolly Ebert mentioning to one of the other girls that Steven had his hooks set on Carole. Well, that stud had another thing coming. If he thought he could take Carole away from her, he was plum out of his fucking mind. Marsha and Carole had been lovers for a long time. A very long time. Even though Marsha was her boss, Carole was the one that got most of the service.
“Uhhh…” Carole gasped as Marsha got on her knees and pushed her skirt up. Carole never wore panties. She grabbed at Marsha’s head and writhed as the older woman shoved her tongue into her moist pussy and licked at her clit.
“Did Steven Hayes ever chew out your muff?” Marsha asked, lapping at the insides of her cunt. Carole had such a slimy hole, with juices just squirting out like tropical mists.
“Marsha… eat me… lick me… snort my box, baby, sniff out the cobwebs… Jesus!”
Marsha reached up on her desk and got a pencil. “I think it’s time I pointed out a few things.”
“Wh-What are you going to do, Marsha? Ohhh!” Carole moaned as she felt the eraser-end of the pencil shove into her snatch. Marsha pushed it up far, then slid it out. “Stop it, Marsha! Don’t do… uhhh.”
Marsha pulled it out and licked the sides of the pencil. “Mmm. Still tastes good. Knock on wood.”
The pencil slithered up the hole, dribbling fuck-juice down the wooden shaft, then wetting Marsha’s fingers. Marsha lapped up this moistness quickly, neatly.
Carole’s face was screwed up in pain, her mouth gaping open as Marsha ****** the pencil into her cunt. Her thighs shivered as the long shaft disappeared into her hair-pie and was later removed, dripping with sweet-smelling juice.
Aww, am I hurting her little pussy? thought Marsha sardonically. Good for the slut! I’ll jack off Carole good and hard so that by the time she pops her pea, it’ll burn. Next time she lets Steven Hayes slip that long whang of his into her cooze, she’ll be in screaming agony.
“Marsha, don’t push it in so far!” Carole cried, her hands shaking and fluttering at Marsha’s soft head. “Oh, no… Christ…” Again, it drilled into her, her cunt giving it a great dose of spunk.
Marsha worked feverishly at her muff, plunging the writing instrument deep between Carole’s long, tanned legs. Carole’s pussy hair was moist, curled in ringlets, and made squishy sounds as the sliminess inside of her released the shaft.
“Fuck me! Ram it in! Jesus!” Carole cried, bouncing her ass roughly against the top of the desk. “I’m cumming, baby! Now! NOW!”
Marsha pounded the pencil far into Carole’s cunt and left it sticking out as she shook and swayed. Just as Carole reached her last orgasm, she ripped it out of her hole in one violent movement.
Carole threw her arms around Marsha. “Oh, honey, that was so good. You’re the best fucker around.”
“Better than Steven Hayes?” Marsha asked coldly.
Carol turned from her. “I won’t have you blowing things out of proportion. I didn’t do anything with Steven Hayes. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Then why the stories about the Kotex?” Marsha asked her. “What are you doing — taking up a collection?”
“Do I always have to tell you everything?” she roared back. “Even if it’s nothing to begin with? Just lunch, Marsha. LUNCH. I’ll even tell you what I ate.”
“I can just imagine.”
“MARSHA!” she cried. “You’re not being fair. I could never do anything with any man, not even Steven Hayes. I couldn’t.” She reached timidly for Marsha’s tight snatch and petted her. “Nobody could ever make me cum the way you make me, sweetheart.”
Marsha pushed her back in an abrupt, sudden movement. “Get out of here, you liar! You expect me to believe some sex-hungry slut!”
“No, Marsha…” Carole sobbed.
“I said get out of here!” she snapped.
“Don’t punish me, it’s not fair,” she pleaded. “I don’t deserve this.”
The older woman smacked her across the face with the back of her hand. The cracking sound alarmed Carole, who looked at Marsha’s face through a stream of team.
“I don’t need you,” Marsha spat at her. “Get that through your fucking thick head! Just understand that! You need me more than anything in this Goddamn world, bitch!”
Meekly, Carole backed off and headed towards the door. “Please don’t be mad at me, baby…”
She took one more look at the glowering woman, then left.
Mark Spaulding returned from his stockholder’s meeting in a piss-poor mood. Jesus Christ, but it was a bitch to have to put up with them. Everybody was constantly worried about money. Including himself.
He smiled at his secretary, Sharon North, before he entered his office and shut the door. What a fucking waste that she didn’t want to make it with anyone. Goddamn virgins, neurotic about “saving” themselves for marriage. Shit, he was married, about seven years now, and Jackie had made him wait until their wedding night before she let him stick it in. But when he did, that hot fucking cunt couldn’t get enough cock. He turned her into a horny monster with a bottomless pit. It was like fucking a comet. She’d strap those legs around his waist and pump his dick until he could do nothing but squirt her full of cum. She’d siphon him drip-dry, ounce-by-ounce. If he hadn’t gone around and humped some other chicks, he’d be damned tired of her by now.
He knew that Sharon North didn’t fuck or suck. It was all around the office. Every one of those gum-chewing, big-mouthed secretaries had a little bit (or sometimes a lot) of slut in them, and when they began developing a taste for meat, not even the mailroom boys were safe! Why, last week, one of them — what was her name, Alice or Anne or something like that — locked herself in the john after typing copy for the December SNATCH STORIES section of Playpen and jacked off. The piece was about blow-jobs, and one of the girls somehow got into the bathroom and found her sticking a bottle of Ban roll-on deodorant (which is rather dick-shaped) into her pussy and reading the story at the same time.
Even the way Sharon acted, he could tell. The times she took dictation, she was careful the way she sat, pulling her skirt down over her knees and remaining in that position for the length of the letter. Or she would look twice before bending over to pick up something she dropped.
If only she could snap out of that world she was built into. He had so many fantasies about balling her that it was pitiful, compared to what she was really like.
Mark Spaulding knew that many of the girls in the steno pool had the hots for him. And wasn’t it a shame, but they did absolutely nothing for him the way Sharon did. She was everything he had looked for in a fuck-partner. Her ass was just right, nice and plump, while her waist was small and her tits the size of cantaloupes. Christ, he was dying to ram his tool into her slit and bang her silly. She really turned him on, and yet he wasn’t about to play all the virginal games she had in mind.
Hell, he was a handsome guy, straight black hair and a clean-shaven face, dark-brown eyes. He was tall and had a great built. Even in a bed match, he could hold his own. And being the associate editor of Playpen Magazine somehow radiated a special kind of sex appeal, one that gave him the kind of power to have any of the girls that worked there do what he wanted.
Except Sharon.
God help him, but he had to fuck her. It was the only thing worth praying for, now that he had everything that would make his life complete. Somehow, he had to think of a way to make Sharon give up this foolish game of “innocence” and show her the meaning of a good cock. He was willing to devote the needed time and effort.
He peeked at her sitting in front of the typewriter, grinding out the stream of letters he had dictated early this morning. Goddamn, but he’d stab her between those nice legs of hers with his peter yet. And once he left his impression on her, and she knew he was the Mark of Excellence, she would come to him willing for a fucking good time.
Yes, he had everything, and soon he’d have her begging to suck him off.
CHAPTER THREE
Gregg Connelly smacked his lips as he stood off to the side watching Margot Jordon sink her sexy jaws into some guy’s dong. She was lying on a big furry rug, on her stomach, hunched over a Mexican guy who had a ten-and-a-half-inch quarter-pounder. Her small, slender hands clutched his nuts while her mouth worked on his chunky piece of pork.
Her blonde hair fell onto most of her face, but you could see those lips puckering up and munching wildly on that hard joint. She didn’t have such big tits, but that little ass got him nice and hard. Shit, just look at her give that spick a work-out! The Mexican, a lean hairy guy of about twenty-three, was groaning on his back in agony, spreading his fuzzy legs wide open while his stomach was sucked in deeply. Margot was giving him her best head.
“That’s it, honey,” Philip Daniels urged her behind his camera and the haze of bright, blinding lights. “Let that tongue buzz. Pour some more of that saliva over his dick!”
He was snapping dozens of pictures quickly, pausing only for a few moments to get her positioned in some good angles. Gregg Connelly regarded him coolly, not liking the way the photographer was ordering her around. He thought Margot was doing a super job on that spick, and that she didn’t need any signals or coaching on the side.
“Give that son-of-a-bitch a hickey on his prong!” shouted Phil, taking pictures like a mad man.
Gregg glowered as he saw that Phil was getting a boner from the action taking place in front of the camera. That prick thinks he can muzzle in on my action, he thought. He had seen Margot first, and it was pretty shitty that Phil Daniels was able to walk into his territory. Gregg clenched and unclenched his fists.
Margot was stuffing her face with the Mexican’s hot pepper. She had him helplessly pinned to the carpet, sucking off his pecker like it was going to snap right off. His cock was so dark-red and hard that it sprang straight up into the air.
“Pump it up into her mouth,” Phil was instructing the spick. “Shove it deep into her throat!”
The Mexican heaved back and rammed his pud all the way into her face, bucking it like a battering ram. Margot had no problem opening up her throat muscles and taking in the additional meat. Her lips were nibbling at his nest of crotch hair as he hammered his stiff cock up into her hungry mouth. Phil zoomed in on the Mexican’s cock area, getting reams of film of his *****-engorged prick pumping into her throat. Margot was getting hot from all this sucking and began to rub her own little hair-pie between her legs. She pushed her fingers into her tight little pussy and started to jack herself off.
“Great, baby, great!” Phil was squealing, getting all these close-up shots. “Keep that fucking whang of yours inflated. I want a big cum shot!”
“Jesus,” grunted the Mexican, rolling his ass restlessly on the furry carpet. “I don’t know if I can hold off any longer. This chick is roasting my nuts. Oh, Christ, I wish all those chicks had a mouth like yours, baby.”
“I’ll make you say ‘Uncle’ yet!” Margot cooed, lapping up those delicious ten and a half inches with a horny appetite. “I love Latin jism… nice and spicy…”
The Mexican’s crotch was throbbing. Margot could feel his rod growing in her mouth, forcing her to open her lips much, much wider. Her hands stroked his tight, fleshy sac dangling between his dark, hairy legs. He groaned as she did this, shoving his peter into her even harder. Margot kept her other hand busy between her legs. Gregg saw that no matter how hard she pulled on her muff, she wasn’t anywhere near cumming herself.
“Damn, I’m hard as a rock…” the Mexican moaned, his mouth gaping open as he breathed heavily, his hairy stomach sucking in hard, then easing out a little. His hairy hands clamped both sides of her head and pushed down roughly so he could get more cock into her mouth. She gulped down his meat as if she were starving, pressing her lips tightly around his rigid slab of meat and pushing herself down onto it. She sucked it from the bristles to the tip, and then back to the base, never lifting her mouth from it for a minute. The veins in his prick were so swollen that they looked as though they would pop.
“Ahh… that’s it, blow it… take my wad into that slimy mouth of yours,” the Mexican the murmured. “Make it leak… suck me dry.”
“Fuck me in the mouth,” she whimpered, clutching his rocks in her hand and jiggling them. His sac felt heavy in her hands and just touching his nuts made her jittery. They were sticky from the saliva she dripped onto them. Jesus, they were so warm, his balls burning in their flesh-bag. “Fuck my throat to pieces! Give me a frigging case of laryngitis!”
Gregg Connelly couldn’t help himself any longer. His cock was getting so hard from watching that foxy chick Margot that he just had to fix it up. He fumbled with his zipper, struggling with it slightly since his dick got so hard he was trembling.
He took it out of his fly and started to stroke it. He watched Margot’s mouth on the spick and pretended it was HE who was getting blown, that Margot’s head was between HIS legs, and not that hairy Mexican’s. Christ, how he wanted to squeeze his load between those soft, tasty lips, injecting her sweet throat with his cum. He pulled on his pud anxiously, unconscious of the rest of the film crew around him. Phil Daniels’ eyes did not wander from the two groaning figures on the carpet, and the other two guys that worked the lights were getting just as hot from Margot’s talented tongue.
Margot squirmed between the Mexican’s lean, fuzzy legs, petting his inner thighs now and letting her hands graze the hairs on his knees and ankles.
Gregg Connelly’s cock was pulsating between his fingers as he stroked it. Christ, how he wished he could get Margot to go down on him, take his thick joint into her mouth and blow him sky high. So his cock wasn’t ten and a half inches long. It was about six and a half, but when he got a boner, it was at least two to two and a half inches thick, depending on how hard the chick he was with got him. She’d need a crowbar to fit all that extra meat into that soft, warm little mouth. He’d probably shoot his wad in there the minute he got his fat dick-head past her tonsils, he’d be so fucking excited.
Margot was still squirming over the Mexican, blowing his brains out with her expert know-how. Her mouth darted all over his dark-red dong, sipping the dick as if it were a straw. Her tanned body looked sexy fumbling over the Mexican’s dark, hairy one, panting as she slid her lips down onto his rod.
“Okay, okay,” Phil Daniels was telling them, “pull it out of her mouth and shoot your jizz all over her face!” He was flicking the button of his camera like a maniac, capturing every minute of this hot suck-session.
“Hurry, baby,” the Mexican groaned, his breath coming in short gasps. “I don’t know if I can keep that stuff in my balls another second… here it cums…” He squeezed his eyes shut just as Margot released her mouth from his long dick. A thick, gooey load sprayed into her face, squirting into her eyes, nose and lips. “Ahhh…” he sighed, letting his jism blow out of him like torpedoes and hitting her smartly, messily. Margot just lay there, getting herself all slimy and drippy.
“Great!” Phil Daniels shouted, taking the last groups of pictures, then stepping in front of the camera. “Hey, Gregg, give her a rag to clean herself up.”
Gregg stood there for a minute, his hands all full of jism, the syrupy stuff dripping to the floor. That was a great show, he thought. He stuffed his dong back into his pants and reached for a rag for Margot.
“Hurry up,” Margot told him, not looking up at him as she got up and pushed her hair out of her face. “Jesus, Phil, I thought I was going to suck his kidneys out the way you were making us wait so long.”
Phil put his arm around her as Gregg handed her the rag. “You were fantastic, doll. You always give me some great action pix. Harry and clean up, so we can get a bit to eat. I’m starved.”
“I’ll bet you are,” she grinned, taking the rag and wiping her face with it. “And I know just what to feed you.”
Phil flashed her a smile and walked off. Margot cleaned the last smears of cum from her cheeks when she noticed that Gregg Connelly was staring at her.
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong with you? The action too much to handle?”
Gregg didn’t know what she meant until he saw that she was indicating his own cum-messed hands.
“Been pulling on it enough?”
She laughed and walked to her dressing room.
Bitch! he thought furiously as he watched her waddle away. How could she say that about him? It was enough to make a guy peter-out. To hell with her, he’d show her. Some way, somehow, he’d find a way to make that chick. And when he did, she’d be sorry.
Margot threw the damp rag she had wiped her face with onto the make-up table in her room and slammed the door shut. Christ, was she tired. That Phil Daniels sure was a hard guy to please, and a HARD GUY. Well, she got her kicks out of it, anyway. That Mexican sure had a long dong. Maybe sometime when she felt like having some dark meat, she’d give him a ring.
She turned the lights on to the make-up mirror and looked at herself. Margot, darling, you are one fucking great-looking chick, she told herself. And who would ever guess what was really behind it all…
Margot reached for her pack of cigarettes and lit one, then opened a drawer to her make-up table and pulled out her wallet. She flipped through her identification cards and stopped at one. It was a picture of a real swishy-looking guy. What was his name… Harold, yeah. Some of the looks were still there, she remarked silently, examining the face in the mirror and the one in the photograph. Who would know that that faggy guy Harold was none other than… Margot Jordon. Yes sir, Dr. Hamilton had done a mighty fine job on her — or him, whatever you wanted to call it. Poor, poor little Harold. He was a no-good faint to begin with. Now he had nothing to worry about because he was sexy, famous model Margot Jordon, whose pictures in Playpen magazine were the ones most horny men beat their meat over. Margot spread her legs and felt for the scars by her crotch. Yep, you couldn’t tell that they had removed his/her balls and cock. Her legs were nice and smooth. She smoothed her hands over her tits. Firm. Silicone did WONDERS! There was one small regret that she had concerning the operation — she couldn’t cum. Since she wasn’t really a girl, she didn’t have a clit, and without one of those, what was a poor girl to do?
Margot snapped the wallet shut and threw it back into the drawer. Oh, well, except for her not being able to cum, she could still fuck any guy she wanted to, not just the other fruity guys she/he used to meet in bars and had to make do with. Guys like Phil Daniels. Oh, she’d heard some pretty wild stories about him being ALL cock. Well, tonight she’d find out how true that was. Trouble was, it got her a little worried whether he’d be able to fit all that prick into her small pussy, since it was only an artificial one. She had to take her chances…
There was a knock at the door. “Margot, can I come in?”
SHIT! It was that Gregg Connelly again. Why couldn’t he just go fuck off! “I’m going to leave in a minute,” she said under her breath.
“It’ll just be a minute,” he told her.
You son-of-a-bitch! “All right, but just a minute. Phil’s waiting for me,” she said calmly. She opened the door and let him in. He had a cool look on his face. “Well…”
“Listen, Margot,” he began, nervously. “I… I want to have dinner with you tomorrow night. If that’s all right with you…”
She grinned. “Will you be pulling on it under the table, and I don’t mean my knee.”
“Aww, come on, Margot, that’s not fair…” he said.
“What makes you think I’d want to have dinner with you?” she said.
“Well, I just thought if you didn’t have anything better to do…” he said shyly.
“Well, I DO have better things to do and they don’t include YOU!” she turned away from him and touched up her make-up, looking into the mirror.
“It’s Phil Daniels, isn’t it?” he said angrily.
“What if it is?” she said.
“Margot, he’s nothing but a…”
“Tsk, tsk, I do detect jealousy. What’s the matter, Gregg, afraid of the competition?” She smoothed some powder over her face to cover the stickiness from the Mexican’s cum.
“You little bitch…” he snapped.
“Listen, buddy, if you came in here to start some trouble, then you can pick your ass up and get the hell out!”
“Hey,” Phil Daniels said, stepping into the room. “Is something going on in here?”
“Get rid of him, Phil,” she said, “will you? He’s bothering me.”
“Okay, Connelly, what’s the problem?” Phil demanded. “Lay off of her and get out.”
Gregg flashed her a dirty look. “I was just leaving.” He stormed out of the dressing room.
“What was that all about?” Phil asked. “Nothing. Who cares? Let’s get going,” she laughed, pressing her hand against Phil’s crotch.
“I’m STARVING!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jacqueline Spaulding lay luxuriously across a king-sized bed holding a vibrator between her legs. Her hair was fanned across the satin black sheets, the blondeness so white that it looked sexy, contrasting with her tanned complexion. She lay with her eyes closed, picturing a tall, red-haired man lying on top of her and shoving an enormous cock into her seething hot snatch. Jacqueline loved her fantasies. It was the only thing that held her marriage to Mark together.
She pushed Mark out of her mind immediately when he did cross her thoughts. That no-good son-of-a-bitch could take his magazine and shove it up his up-tight ass! All he ever thought about was those broads who worked there and how much pussy he could juggle at one time. She knew all about her super-stud husband and his reputation at the office. Shit, executive vice-president, my ass! she thought. She’d taken a ride over to that place and saw what it was like the porno capital of the world. Those models, fucking their way into the cheap glossy pages of that skuzzy magazine. Mark brought a few issues home sometimes, and when Jacqueline got a good look at the prime-meat those studs were flashing around and sticking into every opening they could… hell, her cunt was just dripping wet.
That’s who she was thinking of. That red-haired guy with the fuzzy, muscular body and a prick that could pole-vault him into the World Olympics. She pictured him grinding into her gash and ripping her hot cunt apart, drip by drip. Jackie rotated the vibrator around her stiff clit, feeling that button of delight humming along.
“Pound it into me, lover!” she screamed, pretending the red-haired guy was climbing all over her and pushing his tool into her wet slit. She groped through empty air, thinking it to be his fuzzy ass, moving up and down, bringing his dick way up into her tight muff. “Dig into that box… ohhh… it’s so long… so hard… you’re driving me up the wall. Shoot your load into me… your cock really plugs up that hole good, keep going.”
She moved her hips to an imaginary thrust of that big, juicy dick. It was poking holes through the walls inside her snatch. There was just so far a joint could go into a cunt, and after that, it was UP to YOU.
The juice icky-goo in her cunt was dribbling down her inner thighs and making wet stains on the bed sheets. But she wasn’t thinking about them now. It was Jason (she had decided that was a good name for her red-headed fucker) jacking his thick prick into her twat. Jackie had dyed her pussy hair silver-white, like her own hair, and had cut it into a heart-shape.
“Shoot your arrow into my target, baby!” she gasped, moving the buzzing vibrator deeper into her cooze. She stuck the tip of the vibrator into her fuck-tunnel and brought it up to her clit, circling it and driving it back down again.
Jason was sliding his hand under her ass and pushing it upward so that he could get some more cock into her sizzling pussy. She groaned and swung her arm around his shoulder while the vibrator was doing its work on her clit. She rammed her crotch upward violently, banging her ass hard on the bed, then pounding it up so that his shaft could sink in good.
“Pump it into me!” she panted, rolling her head from side to side, her eyes shut tight and her tongue licking her moist lips. “I want to feel that jism squirting into my hole so that I’m going to have to take a spoon and scoop it out later. Ohhh, scrape that meat against my clit! Scrape it right off! Jack me off with your cock! Christ, I don’t think it’s gonna fit in all the way… no, don’t try to push it any farther, it won’t go in any more… Ohh, Jason, d-don’t try — UUGGHHH! Y-You bastard! You b-bastard, you’re gonna make me own and I don’t want to… not now… prick! Oh… oh, no!”
Jackie’s fingers went numb and she dropped the vibrator as her ass shook violently, tremendously and she jerked from left to right on the bed, helplessly orgasming.
“Oh, Jesus…” she moaned, her clit tingling with cum and her hole spitting fuck-juice. The vibrator kept humming next to her, now rolling off the bed and onto the floor where she had thrown a dozen Playpen Magazines all over, opened to page’s featuring guys getting blown and chicks getting corn-holed. Cocks. Wonderful, great, big, succulent dicks. Ever since she had gotten married, she was in love with pockets. COCKS, PRICKS, DONGS, WHANGS, PUDS, JOINTS, MEAT, SHAFTS, ORGANS, PRONGS, DICKS, RODS, PECKERS and PETERS. RAMRODS, TOOLS, THINGS, WAZZOOS, SLABS, and BEEF. They were all the same thing and they all hung between the legs of every horny man in the world and she loved them all. BALLS, ROCKS, NUTS, SACS — she needed them. They gave her what she wanted and they made her a hot bitch in heat whenever she saw them.
But what good did it do her? Mark only fucked her once, maybe twice a week, if he could manage it. He was always running around with those sluts from the office. FUCKING, SCREWING, BALLING, BANGING, HUMPING, SUCKING, and BLOWING.
Jesus, she was mind-fucking herself, thinking of the words. And that son-of-a-bitch hardly gave her any. He was dishing it out at the office. Sure, she thought about shopping around for some meat, but who could she get without having him run his mouth off about what a great piece of ass Mrs. Mark Spaulding was? She didn’t want it circulated that she was some kind of whore. Hell, with the exception of not getting any balling, she LIKED being Mrs. Mark Spaulding, with the credit cards, the sports car, the furs.
But right now, the one thing that was on Jackie’s mind was taking a long-needed piss. After jacking off with the vibrator, which she just reached down and shut off before it tore the carpeting to shreds (GOD FORBID!), she had a gallon of piss to get rid of. Hell, she was so tired of cumming that she couldn’t summon the strength to get up and run to the john. An idea popped out of nowhere and she giggled at the wickedness of it all. Her three-hundred-dollar mink purse was lying on the nightstand just next to the bed. Mark had bought it for her last month as a present. She grabbed it and pushed it up between her legs. Ohhh… she sighed as she felt the warm gush oozing into the purse, the furry bag absorbing her piss. She groaned at the ecstasy of it all… ahhh… all that piss getting soaked up into the purse. And that mink felt so GOOD rubbing against her hairy cunt and her warm thighs. It was so furry. Like Mark’s crotch, rubbing against her twat when he fucked her…
When she finished relieving herself, she tossed the purse into Mark’s closet where all his hundred-dollar suits were hanging. The purse hit several of them in one shot and sank to the ground. Let that bastard say something about it and she’d have it out with him!
She lay there for several more moments, then she decided, hell I’m getting to be part of the furniture around here in this fucking suburban home. It’s time Jackie got herself a little nookie.
So what if Mark finds out about it? How the hell did I hear about his escapades? From a fucking news broadcast!
Jackie threw open her closet door and searched for something nice and sexy. There was a black hot pants outfit with knee-high boots. Yes… she wanted to look like some two-bit whore roaming the streets. That’s how she’d get laid. She’d even think of a name for herself. How about… CLITORIS VON STUCKER? Perfect! Oh, she was going to really move those ass muscles of hers tonight.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sharon North waved to the dozens of secretaries as they got their things together to leave. It was a quarter after five and there was so much more work to get done that it seemed a shame to have to leave it until tomorrow. Anyway, she would get paid for the overtime, so it was a pleasant gesture to stay.
“We should get together sometime,” Dolly Ebert told her before heading for the elevators. “It could be fun… and educational.”
“Yes… sometime,” she replied, but was wary of the way Dolly had said, “educational”. If it had meant finding some guy in a bar and inviting him up to her apartment for sex, the idea wasn’t too tempting.
“Keep it in mind,” Dolly winked, but before she could run oft Gary Speele slid over to them. Dolly smiled her sexiest smile. “Why, hello, Gary.”
“Hi, babe,” he said in a low, casual tone. His attention shifted to Sharon. “What the fuck are you still here for? You’re not going to park your ass there all night, are you?”
“I don’t know,” Sharon sneered. “The thought of it moves me.”
“Well, I sort of had a pretty good idea worked out that would involve you and me going to dinner. And afterward, who knows?”
“You know the answer to that one already, Gary,” she said, rolling a piece of fresh paper into her typewriter.
“You don’t know what you’re missing, doll,” he grinned again, showing off his light-blue eyes and neatly combed light-brown hair.
“For a photo editor, you sure don’t get the picture,” Sharon said, keeping her eyes glued to what she was typing. “I think you’ve been taking your work too seriously.”
“I’m free tonight,” Dolly offered.
Gary took a glance at her, then laughed. “You’re too fast for me. And you probably douche with Liquid Plumber!”
“Prick!” Dolly spat at him.
“That’s right,” he laughed again, walking away, “it’s what’s UP front that counts.” He disappeared down the end of the hall.
“He turns my stomach,” Sharon mumbled.
“Funny,” Dolly sighed. “He makes my cunt wet.”
“Oh, Dolly!” She was revolted.
Dolly stared off in the direction Gary took. “Maybe I can catch him on the way down and change his mind. I’ve got a terrible yen for jism tonight!”
Sharon ****** herself to go on with her work. If she kept getting interruptions like these, she’d be leaving at ten-thirty instead of six. And all she had to do was type up a few letters.
Mark Spaulding, her boss, strode out of his office practically whistling. He stopped for a minute. “Oh, Sharon, I’m going to run down to the lobby for a pack of cigarettes and come back to make a few calls. Are you going to stay and finish up?”
She nodded. “I’m pretty much through.”
“Good girl. Be sure to take down any messages while I’m gone. If you should leave before I get back, be sure to lock the office door.”
“Will do,” she answered, and returned to her typing.
A few minutes after he had gone, she felt funny. She had never stayed in the office all alone like this. Most of the time, one or two girls would stick around and keep her company until she completed whatever remaining duties she had. But now, it was kind of… exciting. Being completely alone in a building that so many other people worked in.
It was just a few seconds later that she felt someone looking over her shoulder and stopped typing. She turned around and saw a man standing quite close to her. It was that construction worker — what was his name? — the one that was staring at her all week. His eyes were fastened to her body.
“Hello,” she offered weakly. Somehow, he frightened her.
He managed a quick grin. “Everyone’s gone.”
“Y-Yes,” she nodded. “They’re all off at five.”
“And we’re all alone,” he said.
She didn’t like the way he was talking, or the way he kept looking at her. What did he want from her? She looked at him, his brown hairy arms suspiciously at bay, waiting to reach out for her; his deep eyes burning through hers; his mouth watering for some morsel he had been starving for.
She got up from her desk. “I have to get going. It’s gotten so late.”
“You’re not going anywhere just yet, baby.” He went to grab for her. His hands were on her at once, groping for her crotch and tits.
“No, don’t…” she pleaded.
With one powerful hand, he clamped her wrist, while he reached inside her dress and ripped off her panties with one motion. She felt a stiff, hard bulge pressing against her stomach when he pulled her body against his own. He had a big hard-on, and she knew he would be pushing it between her legs and into her virgin cunt soon. He was going to fuck her and there was nothing she could do about it. The odds were against her getting out of it. He was so much stronger and muscular and at the rate he was going, she would feel it inside of her soon enough.
She struggled. “Oh, my God, you can’t! Please don’t do it!”
She used all the strength she had in herself, but to no avail. His hands fumbled at the zipper to his fly and pulled it down slowly. As he did, she could see the shape of his prick much better, its enormous outline pressing through his blue undershorts. His stomach was all covered with hair, and even his legs were furry. Then he reached inside his shorts and pulled out his cock. It was so long, longer than any she had seen in those disgusting magazines Dolly pushed in her face when she thought Sharon would like to catch an eyeful. It was only an inch thick, but its length made up for it.
He stroked her hairy cunt. “Nice snatch,” he commented.
She tried wiggling out of the hold he had on her. His hand was now firmly holding her ass, while the other gripped his meat.
“No,” she shook her head, trembling. “Please… don’t put it in me… no!”
He held her tightly in his hairy arms, his bearded face smiling sardonically. “I’ve waited a long time for this, baby, and you ain’t gonna stop me.”
“If you want some money, I… I have about a hundred in my purse…” she stammered, struggling.
“I only want what I’ve got in my hands right now.”
He was breathing heavily, his hand clamped rigidly onto her ass, squeezing it and pushing it up closer to his long dick. With his other hand, he was clutching his long slab of meat, bringing it up to her twat. The tip of it was poised at her hole.
“No!” she screamed. “Don’t do it! You’ll **** me with your thing!”
“No chance, doll,” he grunted, and roughly ****** his cock into her small, hairy pussy.
“Ohhh!” She gritted her teeth, her arms pounding on his hairy chest. “Oh, no…” she whimpered, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth dropping open in a steady cry of agony.
“Uhh… you’re pretty tight, aren’t you, baby?” he grinned. “I’ll fix that.”
He jerked his hips forward in a quick lunge and his enormous whang dug into her snatch, sinking slowly but surely. The stiff inches of his joint plowed down, spreading her cunt-lips apart and shoving into her virgin hole.
“Oh, Christ, I needed this.”
Sharon felt something ripping open inside her box, and she knew that that construction worker’s peter had torn through her cherry. He was destroying her virginity with that horrible piece of beef that hung between his legs. The pain was too much to bear. She was weakening as he rammed it up her cunt. His powerful hand was clutching her firm ass and pushing it forward so that he could hammer his dong into her cunt without any resistance. Again and again, he pushed her onto his pud, balling her roughly with his *****-engorged prick.
With his other hand now free, since it wasn’t holding his ramrod any more, he tore her blouse open with one tug and exposed her huge, plump tits. Her nipples were surprisingly hard and bulging outward to his hairy chest. He pressed them against his chest, not releasing his other hand that was pumping her ass into his pecker. Sharon felt her legs spreading open wider each time George sank his shaft into her cunt all the way.
“Oh, baby, this is the best fuck I’ve had in a long time. Your cunt’s nice and tight. Don’t you love it, honey?”
She was trembling, crying out in pain. “No! I hate it! You’re killing me with it. Stop it, please, don’t hurt me any more!”
“Don’t worry, doll,” he gasped as she squirmed away from his fuck-strokes. “Before the night’s over, I’ll make you love it. You’ll want to hump me all the time.”
“No… you BASTARD!” she screamed.
As they continued to screw, George heard the elevator bell ring, announcing that the elevator would appear on that floor shortly. Mark Spaulding would return any minute and find them there. George couldn’t let that happen.
George pulled his huge cock out of her sore pussy. Sharon was breathing heavily, gasping for air and whimpering in pain. Her body was shaking.
“W-Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him. “Why are you hurling me like this?”
“We gotta get out of here, baby,” George said, reaching for her quivering body. “Your boss is coming.”
Sharon’s eyes brightened. “D-Don’t worry… I won’t tell.”
“I gotta be sure you won’t,” he said, grabbing his stiff prick in his hand and bringing it to her mouth. “You’re gonna go to sleep right now.”
“NO!” she yelled, pulling away from him, but not fast enough for him. He got hold of her and brought his huge cock to her mouth, forcing it between her lips.
“Don’t struggle, doll,” he groaned, fumbling with her fighting body. “I don’t want to hurt you any more.”
“No, don’t do that!” she gasped, hitting at him and punching with her fists. George clutched her head and her arm and sank his long dick into her mouth. He pushed it way into her, past her teeth and down to her throat.
“Sorry I have to put you to sleep like this,” he mumbled, jamming his cock far into her mouth and holding her tight so she couldn’t struggle. “I can’t have you yapping to your boss.”
Her body jerked fiercely as he pounded his prick into her mouth roughly. She couldn’t breathe. He was cutting off her supply of air. No, no, she was going to suffocate! He was going to **** her with his slab of meat. Christ, he was so long… so long.
He jerked his dick into her mouth a few more times. Her body was starting to go limp. Her hands were beginning to slow down and her arms were sinking.
No… she didn’t want to get knocked out… What would he do to her? She looked up through a blurry haze at his hairy, bearded face. He was sweating, looking calm, though. He kept pushing his cock into her mouth. Colors were spinning all around, faster and faster…
“That’s it, baby,” he told her, hammering his pork into her throat. “That’s it, it’s gonna be all right… I’m not gonna hurt you… calm down, that’s it… yeah, you’re gonna go to sleep.”
Sharon closed her eyes and George could feel her throat muscles go limp. She sank to the floor, unconscious. Good. No more struggling. He reached down and gathered up her lifeless form from the floor. She was knocked out, all right. He carried her over to an office supplies closet and shut the door.
Mark Spaulding stepped out of the elevator and looked around. All the doors were open and Sharon had left a letter, incomplete, rolled into her typewriter. There wasn’t a sign of her.
Goddamn it, he fumed. He thought he told her to lock up if she was going to leave before he got back. He’d have to have a talk with her tomorrow when she came in. This was stupid, leaving the place open like this.
Mark got his coat and locked the door before he turned out the lights. He hadn’t even noticed the sound of breathing in the supply closet, or the fact that Sharon was being held up by two strong arms, unconscious, only a few steps away.
CHAPTER SIX
While Sharon North was getting her mouth stuffed with cock, Nick Renault and Bruce Kane were preparing for their after-hours fun. Nick and Bruce were the top two writers at Playpen and did most of their stories based on the pictures Phil Daniels, the photographer, took. Nick studied one of the new pictures of Margot Jordon, sucking off the Mexican.
“Wow, look at the mouth on that babe,” Nick whistled, holding the picture so that Bruce could see. Nick was a handsome Irishman who had changed his name when he went into writing. He had thin brown hair and a small mustache. His skin looked pinkish. Bruce, on the other hand, was Jewish, with thick dark-brown hair and a very bushy mustache.
Bruce grinned as he took the snapshot from him.
“Yeah, I’d like to sink my joint down those soft, juicy chops any day. Wonder if she fucks any good.”
“Hey, we should try her out sometime,” suggested Nick, laughing. “Like we do… with all our other female partners.”
Bruce chuckled with him. “Yeah, that’s what best friends are for. Right?”
Nick put the photo to the side. “Let’s get out of this place and get ourselves a chick. I’m gonna punch holes through this pair of pants in another minute if I keep thinkin’ about it.”
“Same here.” Bruce got up from his chair and grabbed his coat. “Christ, I’ve had a hard-on all day writing that story about that Margot dame. I’ve really got the hots for her.”
Nick put on his suit coat and joined Bruce out in the hall. He was hoping both of them could find something good tonight, after that long, hard day. He and Bruce had always been buddies in orgies out of the office, and landed some prime-cut ass together. They were almost an act, Renault-Kane. And the times they loved it best, really appreciated some great pussy, was when they went out and found some unsuspecting chick in the park and jumped her. Oh, it wasn’t all that bad. They didn’t beat up on anybody. No, they just held her down, both of them, while Bruce could get behind her and he could get in front and… BANG! They’d cluster-fuck her. Bruce loved a good butt-fuck and Nick went wild over it standing up, so they teamed up and did it together.
Like last week, for example. They had been walking down Central Park at night when they spotted this foxy broad with knockers out to here. When Bruce got a load of those jugs, he knew that his prick would have a nice, tight asshole to screw. Nick came up to her and went for her wrists, while Bruce got in back of her and held her arms. Before the chick knew what was happening, Nick shoved his stiff ramrod into her dry pussy and began fucking away like a madman. While the girl was crying out in agony, Bruce had his fly open and was poking his prong into her buns. That chick got it both ways, and when they finished dumping their loads into both her slots, she was too weak to call the cops.
That’s the way it had always been. Nick and Bruce would pick one night out of the week and get some ass, quick and easy. It didn’t matter what they fucked, as long as it had two holes and some tits.
Nick and Bruce had been driving around for a while in Bruce’s Monte Carlo when they finally spotted what both their dicks wanted. She had long platinum hair and was dressed in a black hot pants suit. She even had on those crazy black boots that went up to her knees. It was dark out and she wouldn’t be able to see who they were.
“Is your hot rod raring to go?” Nick asked him, putting the car in park.
“Souped up and revved up.” Bruce was climbing out of the car. “Let’s go get her.”
Nick went out first, lighting a cigarette as he approached her. She was walking slowly, swinging her nice, curvy hips with each step. Jesus, this chick must be hot for some meat. Ask no more, honey.
“Hey, baby, looking for some action?” Nick asked her, falling in step with her. Bruce wasn’t far behind.
“Fuck off, creep,” the woman told him, keeping her eyes straight ahead of her.
“I got just what the doctor ordered,” Nick went on, motioning for Bruce to slip behind her. “A stethoscope that’d beat the fuck out of your snatch.”
“If you don’t get away from me,” she warned him, “I’ll belt you in the balls with my purse.”
Just as she started talking to him, Bruce was behind her and grabbed her u