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Danny Does Mom (woman/donkey, Hetero sex & incest, B/D, Voyeurism, 
Interracial)


Helen Fredericson's auburn hair, piled high in a French twist, 
accentuated her creamy complexion and the shimmer of her emerald-green 
eyes. The stark white of a high-necked hostess gown revealed a size 
thirty-seven bust line that even a severe bra failed to confine and the 
firm curvature of size thirty-six hips; the effect was to give her 
five-foot-six-inch figure a regal appearance that was reinforced by her 
grace and composure. She busied herself straightening up evidence of 
company, emptying ashtrays, wiping away rings left by glasses, and 
smoothing wrinkled cushions.

Art Fredericson hovered over his wife, hands deep-thrust into his 
pockets, lips compressed, and weight shifting from one foot to the 
other. His gaze wandered over her body, drawn by each movement of a 
muscle, and he continually wetted his lips with his tongue tip. His 
sun-bleached hair was tousled, and it seemed natural above a face 
roughened by years of exposure to the weather and eyes whose blue had 
faded in the wind. His lean six-one frame saved him from looking short 
in contrast to his wife's height, and he had an aura of suppressed 
explosiveness about him.

Helen brushed past her husband and bent to wipe a spot from a corner of 
the coffee table. Art's hand came out of his pocket to caress her ass. 
She jerked, whirled to face him, angry red spots flaming over her 
cheekbones.

"Art! For God's sake!"

"Sorry." Art mumbled and returned his hand to his pocket.

Helen doubted that. "After all, there's a time and a place for 
everything! Honestly! I think you're getting as bad as Barry."

"Sure, sure. Dirty old man."

"Don't be sarcastic. He is. I don't know why Van lets him get away with 
it." Vanessa Rush was the closest friend Helen had - they'd been like 
sisters since high school days - but Helen disapproved of Van's 
permissive attitude. 'Letting him look at other women the way he does!' 
she thought. 'And giggling and simpering when he feels her up - right 
out in public! Ugh! Grandma would have a word for it; she'd have called 
Van a "strumpet"!'

"Shit! He's only thirty-one. How can he be a dirty old man? And she 
lets him because it's natural and she likes it!"

"That's right. When you can't think how to get out of it, use bad 
language." She moved out of Art's reach and continued her work.

"At least I live in the real world. Christ, Helen, sex isn't a 
disease!" Art sounded quietly desperate. "Nothing dirty about it, 
except what you make it in your mind."

"Art Fredericson! Blame it all on me! Grandma would have said... "

"GRANDMA, HORSESHIT! Goddamned prude! I never will know how come your 
old man couldn't walk on water after that immaculate conception!"

"Art! How dare you!"

He grumbled and subsided. Helen finished the coffee table and turned to 
the last end table. Suddenly she felt Art's hand slide up the inner 
slope of her thigh. She clamped her knees together and struck at his 
arm.

"Damn it! You want Danny to see something like that?" She blazed at her 
husband.

"Do him good. His age, he ought to start learning."

"Oh! So I've neglected his education!"

"No! He gets the theory in those school courses! But you've sure warped 
it! Hell, a kid ought to know a pat on the fanny is a sign of 
affection!"

"Sign of affection! Just lewd, that's what! He saw enough of that 
between Barry and Van tonight!"

Art chuckled. "And wondered how it would be to try it on that hot-eyed 
kid sister of Van's! See the way he kept sizing her up?"

"Terrible! That's what I mean! And Olga actually flirted!"

"Like with a ten-year-old. That chick isn't going to break in a 
fifteen-year-old.'

"She's a tramp!" Helen glanced about the room to see if she'd missed 
any spot of disorder. "He's more mature than any of the boy's she's 
dated here."

"Carries himself like a man, all right. She may be overlooking an 
experience!"

"Oh, Art, don't always be dirty-minded!"

"Okay, okay. Come on, baby, let's go to bed. The house can wait."

"A lot you care! You don't have to face it in the morning. You just go 
off to work and let me worry about it."

"And you do. Twenty-four hours a day."

She stiffened. "I have to do something to take my mind off how grouchy 
you've gotten!"

"Who the hell wouldn't be grouchy? Takes a national holiday around here 
for a guy to get a piece of ass! And then its like reading the 
Declaration of Independence through bulletproof glass!"

"Art Fredericson! You're mean and crude! Go on in, I'll be there in a 
minute.

She clenched her fists as she watched her husband go into the hallway. 
She hated these scenes and had a knot in her belly that kept getting 
larger as the scenes became more frequent. Her grandmother had warned 
her, long before she was old enough to understand.

"Selfish, flesh-loving beasts, all of them," the old lady had said 
often. "Even your father, dear thing.'

And while Helen's parents had fun and went places, her paternal 
grandmother had stuck top the dreadful task of reshaping a lustful, 
filthy- minded child into a civilized girl. Helen knew that's what old 
Mrs. Farrell had done. Hadn't she been told often enough? She'd 
rebelled, she remembered. She'd played with herself and spied on her 
father, filled with wonder at that enormous cock of his, and made up 
fantastic stories in her mind about relations with all the boys she 
knew. 'Yes', she thought 'Grandma had a real challenge. She'd been 
losing it, too, until that wilderness trip with the Indian guide.

"Not that he made the difference." she muttered bitterly to herself. 
"But what it did to Grandma."

Even Helen's mother had agreed Grandma Farrell's death - her massive 
stroke - had come as a direct result of Helen's pregnancy. And Helen 
had never lost the black worm of guilt over the fact she'd regretted 
those hours with Tony, the guide, only for her grandmother's death - 
not for the mortal sin she, herself had committed with him. That 
personal lust - that terrible, conscience-deadening pleasure - had 
burned into her the truth of what her grandmother had steadfastly 
maintained.

"You're your mother all over again," her grandmother had said darkly, 
over and over. "No shame. No moral fiber. You'll never be a Farrell."

And on the old lady's abrupt death, Helen had realized that she really 
loved her grandmother. She'd resolved in that moment - fully aware of 
the insatiable sex-hunger in her - that she would atone to her 
grandmother by becoming what the Victorian woman had wanted. She buried 
the hot-pussied self and built instead a poised, frigid shell. She'd 
done it well, she reminded herself now. Well enough that she'd kept 
Danny on the right track; well enough that she'd never let herself 
progress to an orgasm since that summer in the woods. Her grandmother 
must be proud, looking down from heaven on the granddaughter she'd 
given up for hopeless.

Helen hurried to the bedroom. She had time to get into her nightgown 
and into bed before Art finished in the bathroom. And there were 
moments to recall that summer.



There had been a lake and a camp and Tony - he'd had a name even her 
father couldn't pronounce, so they'd nicknamed him Tony - had gone to 
scout trail for the next day's move. Helen had gone for a lone hike, 
then turned back because of a bear. And she heard her mother's squeal 
and her father's carefree, eager laugh.

"Abe! That tickles! Behave yourself!"

"Behave myself! When I can have my nooky in this setting?"

"Your language!"

"Fraud! Get my hand on that snatch and your language will make me 
blush!"

"Nooky!... Pussy!" Helen whispered from where she now hid in the brush. 
They were delightful, tingle-producing words. If she crept only a few 
feet further, she might - just might - get to watch them fuck.

"Wait'll I catch you!" she heard her father say happily.

There was a sound of snapping twigs and rustling underbrush. Helen's 
mother burst into view and stumbled. Convenient to be in the middle of 
a clearing, thought Helen with a shiver. And her father overtook his 
wife there. He pulled her to her feet and crushed her to him, his knee 
pressed to her pussy and his hand kneading her ass. Helen felt her own 
young pussy glow as she watched the willing redhead who was her mother 
writhe in the hot embrace was a low moan of pleasure.

"Honey! Honey! Oh, I want it so!"

They fell to the dark earth, rolling over each other and grabbing at 
each other. Without Helen seeing how, her mother's halter came off and 
lay crumpled under them. Abe pinned Ruth beneath him, his mouth gulping 
at her breast and his hand diving into her shorts. His wife groped at 
his trouser fly, fumbling at the zipper and finally pulling out his 
cock.

Helen writhed. She twisted her legs until her weight bore on one heel, 
through her pussy, and she clutched her breasts in her hands, squeezing 
and massaging. Watching was better than all her dreams put together, 
she decided. Only having the experience, herself, could be better. She 
gasped and held her breath. Her father was pulling her mother's shorts 
- and her panties, if she had any on - over her hips. Ruth had her ass 
off the ground and squirmed to help him, but she refused to let go of 
the reddening cock. Abe lifted his wife's feet as he drew off her 
shorts, raising her legs vertically and dropping one hand to prod at 
her twat. Ruth squealed and twisted, pulling herself up until she could 
mouth the moist cockhead that peeked out of her hand.

"Oh!" whispered Helen. "Oh, how delicious! I wonder how it really 
tastes?" The joints of her jaw tensed as if she's just eaten a sour 
pickle and her hands fumbled at the waist of her sweater, then slipped 
inside, up to her bra and under it to cup the hot flesh of her girlish 
breasts.

Abe straightened, tugging at his clothes while his wife gnawed at his 
prick. Her hair flamed in a ray of sunlight, a gleaming halo against 
the background of her husband's white belly and thick, black body hair. 
She sat with her knees up and her feet widely parted, her pussy a 
shimmering, wet cleft of pink between parallel thickets of carrot-
colored pubic hair. Helen groaned inwardly with envy as she compared 
the swollen, parted slopes with her vivid recollection of her own thin 
cuntlips. 'Someday!' she thought. 'Someday I'll have a pussy like that! 
And a cock like that to kiss!'

But she imagined she heard her grandmother's acid tone in the distance. 
"Dirty-minded little girl! Shameless as your mother! The Devil's own 
child!" Helen shook her head impatiently - the old woman was two 
thousand miles away, and a man named Abe Farrell was getting ready to 
fuck a woman named Ruth right in front of his daughter. And Ruth was 
sensitizing his cock with her mouth, savoring its maleness before 
engulfing it in her pussy.

Somehow, Helen's mother scrambled to her knees when Abe stood up to 
kick off his pants. And she kept his cockhead in her mouth and cradled 
his balls in her hand. he laughed and laid his fingers on her temples.

"God, woman! You're something else today! Have a heart!"

Ruth spit out her meaty mouthful and tilted her head back, eyes dancing 
as she gazed up at him. "It's you," she said. "I go wild, wanting you 
so much!"

He sank to his knees, his cock trapped between their bellies and her 
breasts spreading and flattening against his chest. He seized her 
asscheeks, rolling them in his fingers, pressing them together to close 
her crack, parting them to expose the pink pucker of her asshole. Ruth 
slipped her arms over his shoulders and pulled at his flesh with her 
fingers.

"Darling," she said softly. "Oh, Abe darling! I do love you!" She 
squirmed, her hips thrust forward so her belly pressed hard against 
his. "Especially with your prick in my belly button!"

Abe fingered the crack of her ass. His eyes closed momentarily and he 
blew into his wife's hair. "If it were big enough, you'd train that 
belly button to suck me off, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, honey!" Ruth protested laughingly.

Her husband forced his knee between her thighs and raised it, lifting 
her from her knees and planting his foot on the ground. Ruth twisted, 
raising herself until she positioned her twat above his dick. She began 
to lower herself, her hips undulating as her cunt settled around his 
cockhead. She clenched her teeth in concentration, her gaze fixed 
steadily on Abe's face.

"Unh... unh... " Her exclamations were low-voiced and tentative, spaced 
as if each were a false expectation of reaching the root of the cock 
she was sliding onto. And then explosively - "UNH! Ahhh!" - she flung 
her arms around him and began nuzzling his neck, biting and releasing 
and biting again. Abe squirmed, laughing, and retaliated.

Helen's eyes widened. She withdrew one hand from her breast and touched 
her neck and shoulders, pretending someone was giving her "love bites". 
She shivered deliciously.

Her mother's boob formed a bride between her straining body and her 
husband's, the darkened nipples prodding his chest and burying 
themselves in the curls of his body hair. She sat on the back of one 
thigh and an asscheek, her other knee hanging toward the ground, and 
jacked her hips violently. Abe held one palm at the small of his wife's 
back and massaged her ass with the other. His fingers slid along her 
crack and her buttocks winked. Both bodies writhed, tense and eager, 
and Ruth's skin began to gleam with perspiration.

Helen trembled. "Ooh! Ooh, she likes that!" she whispered, gazing wide-
eyed at her father's fingers as they caressed her mother's ass. She 
inched forward on her heel, bearing down with her anus on the rounded, 
bony little foot. She winked her ass the way her mother was doing, 
biting her lips at the sensation and groping at her pussy with her 
hand. She paused, clutching herself tightly and bending forward to see 
better; her parents were starting to do something else. Ruth fell back, 
clinging to Abe's shoulders. She stared into his face, her eyes looking 
strangely sleepy. Her mouth was wet and red, and her nostrils flared. 
She tossed her head and her hair broke free of its pins. The French 
twist disintegrated to a cloud of tumbling red about her shoulders.

"Darling!" Her voice was husky. "Roll me! Roll me in the dirt! Oh, God, 
I feel great! I feel like we're a couple of animals rutting! Please, 
baby!'

Abe panted. His mouth was open and working, and his fingers kneaded her 
flesh spasmodically. He twisted and fell backward, keeping his wife 
impaled on his cock and rolling with her as her hit the soft, moist 
earth. Ruth's legs parted widely and she gouged into the leafmold with 
her heels, kicking vigorously. Together they rolled across the 
clearing, sweet-smelling earth flying and bits of black debris clinging 
to their bodies. Their legs and arms tangled and they bit at each 
other. Their breaths whistled, its cadence punctuated by low grunts of 
pleasure.

Helen writhed with desire. She twisted her fist among the inflamed 
tissues of her pussy and bit the back of her other hand to smother the 
continuous whimper that welled in her throat. "Oh, yes!" she thought. 
"Oh, yes! This is the way it ought to be! Naked and rolling free! It 
might be sinful, like Grandma says, but nothing could be more 
wonderful! I'm going to be like Mama... and I want to!"

Abe's fingers dug into the pink and white flesh of his wife's ass, 
parting her cheeks and stabbing at her anus, his teeth tugging at her 
nipples while she thrashed beneath him. She ground the back of her head 
against the earth, her eyes bulging and her teeth clenched. Then she 
opened her mouth widely.

"Abe! Ride me, darling! Ride me for real!"

"For real?" There was a note of sudden eagerness in Abe's question.

"Ruth hesitated momentarily. "All right," she said then. "But quick, 
darling! Now!" She rolled abruptly onto her belly and pushed herself to 
her hands and knees.

As if impatient, Abe caught her at the waist and lifted until his wife 
stood stiff-legged, her feet widespread, her body bent at the hips and 
her palms flat on the ground. He edged his knees between her taut 
thighs and crouched, pushing the head of his cock down so that it 
nestled in the depression of her cunt. He pushed forward with his hips, 
lodging the cockhead securely in place, and grasped his wife's hips.

"Mm! Mm!" Ruth grunted. "Put it in, darling! Quick!"

Helen felt a curious churning in her belly. She writhed silently while 
her father pressed forward and the brutal cockhead buried itself in the 
dark pink flesh. "Oooh!" se moaned silently.

"Oh!... Oh!... " Ruth gasped. "Hard, Abe! HARD!"

Abe jammed his hips forward and the thick shaft plunged into her. His 
hairy belly bumped her ass and his fingers dug into the roundness of 
her hips. He hitched himself over her, his cock bending at the root, 
and raised his feet from the ground, hooking his insteps behind his 
wife's knees. She sagged for a moment, then stiffened her knees.

"Oh, God, darling!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "God, he's deep!"

Abe levered his knees, stroking his great prick in the mouth of his 
wife's pussy. She bounced, her knees flexing under his surges. Her 
breasts flopped and her hair tumbled over her arms.

"Animals!" thought Helen with a happy thrill. "They're like animals 
that belong here! Wonderful-awful animals that look like people!" Her 
blood pounded too hard for her to get her breath. Her young pussy 
pulsed at every blow of her father's cock in her mother's upturned cunt 
and her boobs ached. She ground her thighs together, glorying in the 
sticky wetness that spread over them.

Abe bent forward, his belly molding itself to his wife's ass and his 
hands gripping her waist. His buttocks jerked powerfully while his 
balls thumped against Ruth's pubic hair. Helen shivered and gulped at 
the contrast between her mother's finely tapered legs and the humping 
bulk they supported. She tried desperately to imagine herself in the 
same position sagging under the same burden.

"Abe! Abe!" Ruth cried out. "Only one thing wrong with this way... my 
boobies ache and you can't hang onto them! Oh, darling, hard!"

"UNNNH!" Abe's lips drew back to reveal his clenched teeth. His 
buttocks snapped together and his back straightened, throwing all his 
weight on his buried cock. He stopped thrusting and bore down with 
silent convulsions of his belly.

The couple trembled fiercely, Ruth's hips swaying in slow, grinding 
circles as she appeared to rotate on the base of the deep-thrust cock.

"Mmmm!" she groaned. "MMM, FUCK-FUCK-FUCK! BABY, BABY!"

With a final, violent shudder, her straining body seemed to melt. She 
collapsed, Abe riding her to the ground, and the two huddled together, 
still joined and twitching.

Helen fought an impulse to groan. She groveled in the loose earth, 
flattened herself on her belly, her fist in her pussy, and ground her 
hips on the hard knuckles. She fought desperately with herself, her 
body trembling on the verge of orgasm while her will demanded self-
restraint until she could get away by herself and act out the scene 
she'd witnessed. Fiber by fiber, her body yielded to her determination, 
her tension easing and the iron knot in her belly loosening. She 
squirmed backward through the low-hanging brush, terror rising when 
Ruth and Abe stirred, and relief making her weak when she was at last 
safe beyond their sight. She sprang to her feet and bounded between the 
trees, hot desire tearing at her.

With a sob of gratitude, she stumbled into a pocket in the woods Tony 
had shown her, where one could lie quietly and watch a family of 
squirrels argue over pine cones or a heedless rabbit forage. The spruce 
stood apart and a thicket of low firs trailed their boughs to the 
ground, shutting out the world. Going to the center of the tiny 
clearing, she set her feet apart and drew herself erect. After a moment 
she arched her back and stared at the narrow patch of sky, her hands 
clutching at her breasts, then passing over her belly with hard 
pressure and stopping at the tops of her thighs.

"Now!" she said softly. "Now, Helen Farrell!"

She unbuttoned her blouse, laying it open with her back still arched 
and her breasts pointed defiantly toward the treetops. Extending her 
hands behind her, she let the blouse slide off her fingertips to the 
ground. She trembled in her effort to maintain her pose while 
unfastening her bra, then drew it off and dropped it, fingering her 
conical boobs and plucking at the quivering, hard little nipples. A 
great tingle surged over her, doubling her with its intensity, and she 
fumbled at her slacks, her hands clumsy on the button and too eager 
with the zipper. She thrust them off her hips and dropped panting to 
the earth while she struggled to draw them over her boots. The boots 
had to stay on; they would add a measure of sensuous contrast to what 
she meant to do. In a frenzy of haste he tore away her panties, leaving 
until another time the problem of explaining their loss.

Again, she assumed her "sky-worshipping" stance, her small red triangle 
of pubic hair darker than her mother's and not yet covering as much of 
her flesh, but thick and springy, nonetheless. Arched as she was, she 
drew her belly into a taut, convex surface. Her navel stretched into a 
groove and her pussy shook with the strain of her posture.

"Oooo!... Oooh!" She flung her arms up and back and let her head hang 
back, with her hair falling free. "Mmmm!" Without changing her body's 
alignment, she placed her hands on her pussy and pulled the wet lips 
apart. Her fingertips explored her slit, lingering at her labia before 
slipping forward to the raw little lump that generated such incredible 
sensations of delight. Writhing and gasping, she played with her 
clitoris, whipping her excitement back to the peak she'd felt during 
her parent's orgasm.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Yes, it's now! Now!"

She dropped to all fours, knees stiff and palms resting on the cool 
earth, spreading her feet as widely as she could and imagining her 
father was mounting her. She sagged, pretending his weight pressed her 
down, then thrust one hand into her crotch to massage the gaping folds. 
For a time, she teased herself, sliding her fingertips in the wetness 
on her pussy and tracing rings around the rim of her cunt, but at last 
she yielded to her feverish hunger and started to rub her clitoris.

"NNNG!... AGHHH!" Her hips jerked and her boobs bounced under her as 
her excitement rocketed. "Oh, yes! Oh, God, yes!"

Something touched her hips. She stiffened and fought against the scream 
that welled in her throat. Her glance darted past her legs to the 
moccasined feet of the guide and waves of horror engulfed her.

"No! OH, NO!" she sobbed, too terrified to move. "Don't tell! Please 
don't tell!"

She tried to push herself to her feet, but Tony's hand rested on the 
small of her back, holding her where she was.

"Please!" she whimpered. "Please, Tony!"

He circled her waist with his fingers, then slid his hands to her hips, 
fingering her ass and stroking her thighs. The roughness of his palms 
was like needles of pure delight on her skin, and she surged under his 
caress. He brushed one finger over her rectum. Her buttocks clamped 
together, then spread at Tony's insistent massage. His thumbs settled 
on her labia, forcing them apart and making her cunt yawn. He poked one 
square-tipped finger at the eager little mouth and grunted with 
amusement when the rim puckered.

"Maybe you good fuck," he observed.

"Omigod, Tony! No!... Yes!... Oh, Tony!"

He uttered the grunt she'd come to know as his substitute for a 
sympathetic chuckle. Gently he raised her, then took her in his arms 
and laid her on the earth.

Tony's nose was narrow and sharp and his eyes were close-set, 
glittering black beads that appeared to radiate condescension along 
with hunger as the leered at her. His cheeks were gaunt and pocked, his 
chin jutted crookedly, and thin lips drew back to reveal gaps between 
jagged, worn teeth.

Helen writhed. She knew she had reached the end of her virginity, and 
the knowledge brought fierce joy over a thick fabric of regret. In her 
fantasies, she'd pictured the event involving some dashing, worldly 
type with flashing eyes and an eager grin, abandoning his castles out 
of wild desire for her. She'd dreamed of haunting music, softly glowing 
lights and velvet cushions. Instead, she had an unkempt old Indian 
taking a moment from a day with nothing to do, visibly gratified at the 
diversion chance had thrown his way. The only music was a sighing 
somewhere high in the trees; the light was what filtered through close-
growing needles, and her cushion was a springy mattress of leafmold.

But her moment had come, nonetheless, and it was surely more exciting 
than being had on the back seat of a hot rod. She thrilled at her 
nakedness, acutely conscious of the bizarre note her boots added and 
secretly embarrassed at how small her peaked breasts were. And the 
dark-skinned creature who unbuttoned his fly as he dropped to his knees 
between her outflung thighs was Man without pretense or sophistication. 
There would be no subtlety as his cock thrust aside the membrane of her 
innocence and no apology as his semen spilled into her.

He bent over her, tugging his cock into the open and reaching out to 
fondle her.

'Black!' she thought, shivering. 'Black and knobby and dull! Not smooth 
and white and shiny like Daddy's!' She sucked her belly in while his 
fingers scraped across it. He closed his hand over her breast, 
squeezing and rubbing, and a sharp gasp caught in her throat. His 
Levi's felt rough against the inner slopes of her thighs and she 
twitched when he laid one hand over the brush of her pubic hair.

His cock pulsed and he ran his tongue over his lips. She stared in 
fascination at the stray hairs that clung to his shaft where it poked 
through his open fly, and at his cockhead, half out of his taut 
foreskin. There was a bead of clear fluid at the tip of the swollen 
bulb and from her angle the slit was clearly visible, gaping darkly.

He grinned knowingly, clearly aware of the focus of her attention, and 
used both hands to tease her nipples, rolling them like cherries 
between his fingers while she pressed her fists to her shoulders and 
breath hiss between her teeth. He felt her, his hands roving over her 
curves with lingering, tantalizing slowness, as if he were renewing 
memories he'd put too far behind. Helen twisted in pleasure at the 
tingles that raced over her in wave after wave. He caught a strand of 
her pubic hair in his fingers, pulling it straight and letting it snap 
back, then ran his fingers into the quivering zone at the top of her 
thigh next to her pussy. She whimpered at the electric urgency of the 
sensation and drew one knee up to press it to her side.

"Tony! Oh, Tony! Am I going to be your squaw?"

"Mmmph," he grinned at her. "We fuck."

"Yes," she whispered.

He lowered himself, the folds of his shirt settling on her breasts and 
the hardness of his Levi's on her belly. She felt his cockhead against 
her pussy, heat on heat, and gasped. But he turned, resting one hip in 
the angle of her widespread thigh, and fingered her cunt.

"Ah!... Oh!... " she gasped.

He dragged his fingertip along her slit and probed to feel the 
indentation of her vagina. Slowly, deliberately, he forced the blunt 
digit into her, twisting it and stretching the sensitive rim. Helen 
rolled the back of her head on the earth and dug her bootheels in.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed in a low moan. "Oh, my gosh!" His finger was 
bigger than hers and rougher, and there was a feeling of fullness she'd 
not experienced before in playing with herself. An instant of terror 
swept her at the thought of his cock and how much greater it was than 
his finger. But her desire was deepening, jerking at her gut and making 
his looming bulk waver before her eyes.

He rolled back, lodging his cockhead between her pussy lips and 
pushing. She felt the blunt instrument fill her vagina and rest solidly 
in the surrounding tissues. An uncontrollable urge came over her to 
rotate her pelvis up and forward, and she felt her hips tighten and 
thrust. The pressure at her pussy increased sharply as her sheath 
stretched and slid onto the slopes of the enormous bulb.

"Mmh!... Oh... Oh... !" she cried out, clutching at Tony's arms.

Tony lunged against her. His cockhead rammed through the resistance of 
her cunt against something tighter and incapable of stretching. Searing 
pain washed over Helen. She felt as if she were tearing, and she pulled 
her knees up and spread them in a futile effort to open wide enough to 
stop the hurt.

Tony grunted and thrust, the impossible wedge spreading her and 
creeping inward. There was a sudden sensation of yielding and a new 
leaping of fiery pain, then relief. Helen's throat closed in the moment 
of agony and opened afterward, letting her pent-up breath escape in a 
sighing rush. The black cock was an incredible fullness in her pussy, 
and the sensation of the huge head's intrusion into the core of her 
belly was a delight she had never anticipated. She lashed out with her 
feet, pedaling them in the air.

"Aghhh! Ahhh, Tony!"

Tony's body tensed at her cry and his cock drove inward with a single, 
smooth push that dilated her virgin channel for the first time. His 
groin slapped against her crotch and his cockhead came to rest high in 
her belly. Helen forgot her earlier pain and was aware only of the 
intense pleasure that surged in her. She clamped her knees to Tony's 
sides and levered her hips, bumping her pussy against the hardness of 
his Levi's while he pumped at her. His cock slid rapidly back and forth 
in her and her body rocked under the repeated blows. She clawed 
sensuously at him, her fingernails catching in his shirt. The edges of 
his fly rasped like rough sticks along her pussy lips, catching single 
pubic hairs and jerking at them. Her body was a raw lump of delight.

"Ugh!" Tony grunted explosively. "Tight cunt! Make Tony cum quick!... 
Unnnh!"

His thrusts slowed and a ball of warmth grew in her belly. Her clitoris 
throbbed as the hardness of his shaft rode over it, and pressure 
pounded in her head. She gulped, a convulsive spasms seizing her pussy 
and spreading over her, stiffening her body and making her back arch. 
She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs and levered her crotch 
tightly against the base of his cock.

A violent tremor shook her and she felt her vagina contract to squeeze 
Tony's buried cock. "Mmmm!" she moaned, deep in her throat. "MMMM!... 
MMMM!" Her orgasm washed back and forth over her, jerking her helpless 
body and making her hear an inner roaring. The sensation seemed a 
totally different one from the kind she'd brought on by playing with 
herself, and she was frightened at its intensity. But her fright was a 
pale thing beside the awesome feeling of pleasure that flooded her.

At last the tremors stopped and her inner convulsions subsided. She 
collapsed, limp beneath the weight of Tony's body. She heard his light 
panting and realized how hoarse and labored her own breathing was.

"Tony!... I can't... breath!... You're... squashing me!"

He grunted and propped himself on his forearms, his softening cock 
settling in her. "You pretty good fuck, Helen. Lot better'n ol' Kai."

"Old Kai!" she shrieked, visualizing the emaciated mangy bitch whose 
devotion to the guide seemed her only redeeming feature. "Tony! You 
don't!"

He giggled. "You better'n her. Maybe fuck again tomorrow?"

"Brrr! Get off!" Helen laughed and twisted. Knowing the cock that was 
in her had rested in a scrawny, stiff-legged bitch brought its own kind 
of thrill, and Helen savored the wicked awareness while she could still 
squeeze Tony's shrunken meat with her twat. Then again, 'Get off, dirty 
old man!"

Tony chuckled and jabbed his useless cock forward, then heaved himself 
off her. There was a sucking noise at her crotch when his cockhead 
popped free of her cunt, and she groaned at the abrupt emptiness.

The gaunt Indian leered at her, teasing, his knees still holding her 
thighs apart and his fingers resting on her slowly swaying boobs. He 
pretended momentary revulsion. "Ugh! You too white... like dough!'

"Go away! You're nasty!" she giggled.

"But good fuck, anyhow."

"Go away!"

He grinned broadly, surged to his feet, and gazed down at her 
languorous pose. 'You like, Helen. Tomorrow maybe?"

She knew she would. Nothing could keep her from wanting that cock as 
long as the guide was with them. Desire knotted her belly and she 
nodded. "Maybe tonight?" she whispered.

"Maybe." He strode from the clearing, leaving her alone in her 
nakedness.

She trembled and sat up, ignoring the soreness of her pussy but 
thrilling at the sight of her reddened flesh, the rolled tops of her 
socks and the gleam of her boots startling her. "God, how wicked!" she 
told herself softly. "Grandma would just die!"

Helen shuddered and groaned now, hearing Art's tuneless humming from 
beyond the bathroom's closed door and remembering the incessant hunger 
she'd felt the rest of that summer. She'd slipped away from her parents 
again and again to give herself to the Indian, and she'd known within a 
week of reaching home that she was pregnant.

Grandmother Farrell had died when she learned of Helen's pregnancy. 
She'd raved at Helen, cursing her for being so much like her mother. 
"Her that's made a lecher out of a fine boy!" she'd screamed. And the 
old woman had succumbed to a stroke that very night. Ruth and Abe had 
been grim, making no secret of the fact that the stroke had been the 
direct result of Grandmother Farrell's anger and shock over Helen's 
actions.

To Helen, her grandmother's death had been a two-edged tragedy. For the 
first time, she realized how much she had loved the cantankerous old 
woman. Her sense of guilt was a tangible, oppressive burden that failed 
to lighten with time. And her parents' attitude toward her, formerly 
trusting and permissive, had changed to one of bitterness and 
suspicion. They had abruptly curtailed her free time and her freedom of 
choice and movement. What little time the baby left her, they had taken 
care to see she was well supervised.

'Not that it would have mattered,' she told herself, listening to Art's 
tuneless humming through the closed bathroom door. 'They didn't have to 
worry.' She had privately committed herself upon her grandmother's 
death. Having taken the old woman's life (she had believed) she had 
determined to give her own. And she had done it by becoming the old 
woman in her beliefs and actions. She had sealed her former lustful, 
passionate self away and turned into the woman she believed her 
grandmother had been. It had been as simple as that.

Danny had been born, a big, beautiful boy baby, and Helen had grimly 
rejected her parent's urging to give him up. She had felt no lingering 
affection for his half-civilized father - there was nothing for him but 
revulsion - but it had seemed a fit punishment to look at the fruit of 
her wickedness, reminding herself daily of the way she'd killed 
Grandmother Farrell. To her own confused amazement, Danny had captured 
her love. Until Art had married her, the boy had been the center of her 
universe, and when Art had insisted on adopting Danny, the act had 
deepened her emotion toward her new husband to an unbelievable pitch of 
devotion. His only flaw in her eyes was his apparent insensitivity and 
animal appetite for sex. But she had persisted in the private vow she'd 
made to the memory of her grandmother, and she sighed now with self-
approval for the way she'd met and conquered temptation.

She heard Art turn off the water and stop singing. A sharp tingle 
assailed her and she tugged the blanket up to her chin, annoyed at this 
evidence that she was still not free of her baser nature. 'Still a 
wicked, wretched creature!' she told herself. 'Just like Grandma said! 
Lustful and crude!' So crude and lustful, she remembered, that she 
tingled like this when Barry looked, heavy-lidded, at her body - or 
even when Danny tilted his head to one side and pretended in his 
adolescent way to leer at her. 'Wicked! Wicked! Wicked!' she thought.

Art came out of the bathroom without his pajamas. He stared at her with 
an expression of hunger, his cock jutting boldly at a forty-five degree 
angle, rising steeply from the thick, blonde mat of his pubic hair.

Helen gasped, furious at her own involuntary surge of interest. "Art!"

"Yeah!" He crossed to the bed and threw back the covers.

Too late, Helen snatched at the edge of the blanket. She shrieked. 
"ART! For God's sake, what's gotten into you!"

"It's getting into you that's got me worked up right now, puss."

"Oh, damn it, Art! That's disgusting!" She turned her back to him.

The mattress sagged beneath his weight and she felt his hand on her 
shoulder. He bent over her and tried to kiss her, but she buried her 
face in the pillow.

"Aw, come on, sugar! What the hell!" His voice sounded pained.

"Not when you're acting like an animal," she replied, the pillow 
muffling her words.

"Come on, baby," he said softly, his hand passing lightly over her 
body.

She stiffened, habit quelling the instinctive thrill that touched her 
spine.

"Come on! It's not that bad!" Art coaxed.

With a resigned sigh, she let him roll her onto her back. He fingered 
her belly through her nightgown and touched her forehead with his lips.

"Pull the covers up," she said, her eyes tightly closed.

In a moment she felt the weight of the blanket on her body.

"And turn out the light."

She heard the socket snap and the glow on her eyelids turned to 
darkness. She held herself motionless, enduring the awkward caresses 
and blocking the tendrils of pleasure that threatened her reserve. Art 
thrust his hand inside the front of her nightgown to paw at her breast. 
She bit her lips and clenched her fists, proud of her ability to resist 
temptation and miserable because there was a part of her that was like 
her mother - hungry for her man's touch. That, she'd not succeeded in 
stifling, although maturing had enabled her to control her reactions 
outwardly.

She gasped. Art was turning back her nightgown - pushing one side of 
the front away - and she felt his breath on her suddenly puckered 
nipple.

"Art! Art, stop that!"

His hand, cupped around the bulge of her breast and squeezing it 
upward, went slack and she felt the welcome pressure of nylon covering 
the sensitive mound again.

"Good God, Art! After all!" She fumbled at the material on her hips, 
inching it up and gathering it in her hands until the hem lay across 
her belly. Teasing, she let her bare thigh touch Art's, then spread her 
knees and waited for him. He made a muffled sound and rolled onto her, 
his cock resting at her cunt.

Despite herself, she shivered at the wave of desire that swept through 
her. "Mmmm!" she moaned under her breath. She felt her hips twitch.

Art pressed his cockhead into her slit so it nudged her labia. She 
pushed her fists against her hips and struggled against the urge to 
meet his thrust with one of her own. His body hardened and his hips 
drove downward, his cock plunging into her twat. She startled herself 
by jabbing upward buttocks clamping together to raise her ass from the 
mattress. The bony hardness of his root crushed her clitoris and sent 
an unexpected jolt of pleasure inward.

"Mm!... Unh!" She jerked her head into the pillow. 'It's because he's 
bare! she thought wildly. 'It's because the hair on his legs feels the 
way it does! It's because his skin's so hot on mine! "Mh!... Mh!... "

Art's hips stroked, his flesh rubbing silkily over her thighs and his 
cock pumping in the grip of her pussy. Excitement surged in her belly 
and she realized she was moving her body to his rhythm. She gritted her 
teeth and stilled her motion, but Art's hand slid past hers and his 
fingers curled under her ass. She held her breath while he squeezed, 
closing her fingers around his wrist. He worked his palm around her 
asscheek and his fingertips probed into her crack. She wrenched her 
hips convulsively, enraged at the explosion of excitement the act had 
produced in her.

"No! NO! Stop that, Art! Goddamn it, you're nothing but an animal 
tonight!"

"Oh, horseshit!" Art heaved himself off her, his cock jerking at her 
pussy rim with a force that made her wince. "You don't know what you're 
talking about! What do you mean, an animal?" He flung himself away from 
her, his breathing harsh and rapid.

"I mean, not like a civilized human being!"

"Shit, shit, shit! That's what makes man different! He's got a little 
imagination! Let me tell you how it is with animals, baby! Know what 
that'd be like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Getting screwed by an animal."

"Art! That's not what I was talking about!"

"The hell it wasn't! Every time I go for a handful of tit or rub your 
ass, you make out like I'm being an animal! And I say that's horseshit! 
I'll tell you what it would be like if you had an animal screwing you!"

"ART! I won't listen!"

"Then don't listen; I'm telling you anyhow! Take that damn donkey of 
Dan's."

"Smokey? That's impossible, Art! Ugh!'

"Like hell! You bend over that feed table of his naked and you'll find 
out! Know how it would be? He'd look at you for a bit - look at those 
smooth white cheeks on your ass and that pink twat with the red fur 
lining - and his dong would start to grow. Pretty soon he'd heave 
himself up and put his front hooves on your back, or maybe on either 
side of you, and jab that big Goddamn prick at your pussy!'

"Don't" Please don't say any more!" She whispered, alarmed at the 
raging hunger in her pussy. Art's intense, rapid description had 
awakened the worst of her deep-buried dreams, thrusting them to the 
surface and making her writhe. "No, no, no!"

"Ever notice what a sharp point that dong's got when he's got a hard-
on? He'd wiggle his ass until that point found your cunt, baby, and 
then he'd slam it to you! Think it wouldn't go? Bullshit! Like a 
greased rolling pin! Stretch you some - maybe make you do the splits - 
might make your eyes bug, but that prick would go all the way! And he'd 
play 'The Stars and Stripes Forever' on your belly with his balls while 
he was fucking you! Every time he poked his dick home, you'd bounce 
into the air! That sonofabitch wouldn't mess around trying to feel you 
up or show you he loved you. He'd just ram his cock in and fuck until 
he came! If you got a cum out of it, fine; if you didn't, so what? 
Think he'd care? He'd get his rocks off and be done... what the hell!"

"Ooh!... Brrr!... Art, you're terrible! You've got a filthy mind! 
You're sick!" She shuddered, her pussy throbbing and her thighs working 
against each other. 'And I'm sick to let that make me excited,' she 
thought miserably. "That's all you can think about anymore. Sex! The 
way you looked at Vanessa tonight you might as well have been in bed 
with her! You even ogled her sister, and Olga's only twenty!" She 
subsided, fighting to catch her breath and quiet the turmoil in her 
crotch.

After a long pause, Art replied, his tone hardly more than a whisper. 
"Maybe if you thought as much of me as you do your Goddamn housework I 
wouldn't get turned on just because some broad acted human. Christ, 
Helen, you're about as warm these days as a snow bank. Just about as 
responsive, too."

"Maybe I'd be warmer if you weren't such a grouch. Art, don't you 
realize how sullen and nervous you've gotten? I almost hate to hear the 
car came into the driveway!"

"What the hell do you expect of a guy when he gets a piece of ass once 
a month whether he needs it or not - and figures he's gotten his cock 
into the freezer by mistake even then?"

She stiffened. "And besides, you've gotten crude! You sound like some 
thug out of the gutter!" A sob caught in her throat. "You aren't the 
same at all! Housework's the only way for me to get rid of the tension 
from the way you're acting!"

"Goddamn it! I keep telling you I want a little affection! Shit, I'd 
like to have a woman turn on when she's gettin' screwed. I'd like a 
woman to figure out it's good if she gets excited when a guy sucks her 
tit or plays with her ass or something - that sex is fun instead of 
being a Goddamn duty!"

"I can't help that, Art! I can't help it!'

"Yeah, I know." His voice was heavy with defeat. "Some guy gets in your 
pants when you're fifteen and sixteen years later you're still afraid 
to let go. Hell, sixteen years!" He sighed. "Oh, shit, what's the use? 
He turned his back to her.

"Art?"

There was no reply.

"Art? Please?"

"Go to sleep."

Very slowly she worked her nightgown into place. She held herself 
rigid, hands pressed to her thighs and knees clamped together, trying 
to quiet the lingering desire. As she let their argument replay itself 
in her mind, fear and anger replaced her frustration. Art hadn't been 
searching for cutting responses to her accusations. He'd said things 
that had been bottled inside, festering in his subconscious. The 
understanding patience she'd loved him for had been an act, she 
realized, masking irritation and resentment. And that was the way 
marriages fell apart.

There was a streak of gray in the sky before she finally managed to 
sleep.

At the breakfast table after Dan had left for school, Art suggested 
Helen see a psychiatrist. He approached the subject carefully and had 
her agreement before she was fully aware of what he'd implied. Even 
then, she followed through by making an appointment; a "shrink" ought 
to understand what she was putting up with. He would most likely insist 
Art come in for treatment.

But Dr. Davis did not. Helen left his office with her ego bruised and 
her self-confidence shaken. She went to Vanessa Rush. 'She's the 
closest friend I've got,' she reasoned. 'Even if she does act a little 
wild.' She shook her head and pursed her lips.. 'Come now, Helen. More 
than a little. And the way she talks! But she's always been good to me, 
and she's never got a mean thought.'

Vanessa listened closely to Helen's description of the fight and the 
subsequent visit to Dr. Davis. Helen wished it were easier to read her 
friend's expression - to know whether she was seeing sympathy or 
amusement or something else - but she was grateful for the fact that 
Vanessa didn't interrupt.

"Oh!" Helen exclaimed as she concluded her account of Dr. Davis' 
reaction. "Can you imagine! Telling a married woman she doesn't know 
anything about sex! Vanessa, he was terrible! He said things I'd never 
let Art say! Ugh!"

"Like what?" Vanessa appeared interested.

"I wouldn't repeat them! Perverted sex things he said I ought to have 
Art do! He... he... Vanessa, he even said I ought to... to have 
intercourse with other men! He was awful. I'm never going back to him!"

"Honey, I think you need a drink." Vanessa mixed a double-strength 
Screwdriver for Helen. "You sound tight as a drum."

Helen shuddered. The sympathy in Vanessa's voice was almost disastrous 
in its effect on Helen's self control. She choked back a sob and gulped 
the orange juice and vodka. "How could such a dirty-minded man get to 
be a doctor? Honestly, Van!'

"Did he think your marriage might be in any danger, hon?"

Helen nodded and drained her glass. "The only thing he said that was 
right. He agreed there was a real danger."

"You don't want to lose Art, do you?"

"Omigod, no! That would kill me, Van!"

"Even if you knew you weren't going to be able to change him?"

Helen hesitated. "You mean, if he never did get over being... well, a 
sex fiend?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to lose him." Helen whispered. She held out her empty 
glass to Vanessa for a refill. "I love him, Van. No matter what, I love 
him! I won't let him go!"

Vanessa mixed another double. She spoke without looking at Helen. "What 
if keeping him meant you had to be something you're not?"

"Change myself?" A sense of relaxed warmth was seeping through Helen. 
"Pretend I don't mind him looking at me naked? Let him do all those 
things he... ?"

Vanessa nodded. "That's the only way."

The image of her grandmother rose in Helen's mind and horror filled her 
at the thought she'd been toying with. "No!... no! I won't!" 'But I 
love him! I can't lose him!' "Isn't there any other way?"

"Well... " Vanessa hesitated. "You might try shocking him. Maybe you 
could bring him to his senses that way."

"How?"

"Shock hell out of him! He wants you naked, let him see you naked! In 
front of Barry and me!'

"VAN! For God's sake! I'm not that drunk!"

"I'm serious! Start like it's a game - or like we're practicing a skit 
for Wednesday Club!"

"I'd die! I couldn't take my clothes off!"

"Make it a skit. You're a new slave being auctioned off. Costumes. 
Think he'd let it go all the way?"

Helen hiccuped. "In front of Barry? No!" She was suddenly excited. 
"You're right! It'll work!"

"Tonight then. Call Danny and have him go to the Avery's. Call Art's 
office and leave a message, they'll get to him by radio."

"No use. I still can't take off the costume."

"You'd be a slave. Chained." Vanessa laughed. "We'd have to use 
clothesline instead of chain, but we could spread-eagle you against the 
grate there. "How far do you think Art would let me get?"

"All right. That way." Helen pressed her hand to her forehead, 
conscious of her giddiness. She knew Art would be indignant - that he'd 
stop them almost before they got started. She wasn't sure how the shock 
would make the desired change in Art, but she probably would if she 
weren't so drunk; Vanessa obviously did.

Vanessa kept Helen pleasantly lubricated the rest of the afternoon. It 
was a time of confused activity, making costumes out of sheets, 
locating rope, and making the necessary telephone calls. And Helen was 
still drunk when Art arrived. Conversation at the dinner table swirled 
around her, confused and trivial, and she continually found herself 
trying to unravel one topic only to discover the others had slipped 
into another. She ate little, the food appealing less to her than her 
drink, and she giggled at those times when Art acted as if he ought to 
be enlightened.

Afterward, when they had settled in the living room with liqueurs, she 
nodded owlishly while Vanessa introduced the fiction about their skit 
for Wednesday Club. And without quite realizing the time had come, she 
and Vanessa were on their way to the bedroom.

Helen undressed quickly, glancing at herself in the door-mounted mirror 
with satisfaction, and put on the skimpy, wrap-around affair Vanessa 
had suggested as a final teaser. 'Like a miniskirt that shrunk,' Helen 
told herself. 'But it does cover the hair... not that they'll ever see 
it. Art won't let us go that far.'

"Know what?" she said to Vanessa when she had her sheet-gown fastened 
at the shoulders and pinned down the side. "Know what, Van? I'm still 
drunk." She giggled.

"And pretty relaxed," Vanessa observed. "I thought you'd be all up 
tight by now!"

Helen watched with a sense of detachment while Vanessa tied chunks of 
rope to each of her wrists and ankles. She held her hands behind her, 
resting against her ass, when Vanessa gathered the free rope ends in 
her hand.

"Let's go, slave-girl," remarked Vanessa with a hint of excitement in 
her voice.

Helen was startled at the sudden gleam in Art's eyes when he saw her 
costume. Glancing at herself in the brighter light of the living room, 
she realized the sheet was anything but shadow-proof; the relative 
darkness of her nipples showed clearly, and even with the brief "teaser 
skirt" there was a faint shadow at her crotch. She shivered and let 
Vanessa guide her to the grating.

"This one's rebellious," commented Vanessa, going into the act. She 
made Helen turn with her back to the bars. "Okay, honey," she 
whispered. "Do your stuff. Arms first, I guess."

Helen extended her arms over her head and held them patiently while 
Vanessa secured her wrists to one of the crossbars. And at a prod of 
Vanessa's finger and a curt order, she spread her feet. Vanessa tied 
the ankle ropes, tugging at them to pull Helen's legs still further 
apart.

Helen gasped. "Oooh! That stretches me!" She squirmed helplessly.

Vanessa straightened. "You look great, honey!" she said in a low tone. 
"It's going to work!"

Helen glanced at her husband's face. His eyes were wide and he stared 
at her without blinking. 'So far,' she thought, 'he's himself. Nothing 
on his mind but how sexy it looks.'

'Observe, gentlemen," Vanessa was saying. "One of the loveliest of our 
captive princesses! No submissive peasant, this one." She paused and 
gazed at Helen. "But she'll bring hours of pleasure to the lucky one 
who buys her. Do I hear an offer? What, no bid?"

Helen saw Barry start to speak and caught the quick shake of Vanessa's 
head. 'That's right,' she thought. 'Don't let them forget we're 
practicing a skit.'

Vanessa smiled. "Of course! A discerning group like you would hesitate. 
'What about damage?' you ask yourselves. 'A beautiful face.' you say, 
'but what about the body?' I assure you the flesh is flawless." She 
paused. "What? You doubt? The exaggeration of the marketplace you say? 
I'm wounded. Wait! See for yourselves!"

Helen tensed at the avid interest she saw in both men's faces. And she 
quivered while Vanessa unfastened the safety pin that held the costume 
together at her left shoulder. The material fell free, slipping away 
from her shoulder and dropping against her body. She looked down in 
sudden panic to see how much of her had been exposed. 'Good God!' she 
thought. 'Another half inch and they could have seen my nipple!' The 
creamy flesh of her breast swelled boldly in clear view, the fold of 
the sheet lying across the upper edge of the pink aureole. A wave of 
giddiness swept over her. 'Oooh! How wicked!' she thought.

"Absolutely without a flaw!" repeated Vanessa. And then, "You still 
wonder? What skeptics! Come now!" She shrugged and turned with an air 
of resignation to fumble with the pin at Helen's other shoulder.

"No!" whispered Helen. "He'll stop us now!" But she saw no startled 
objection in Art's expression. His lips were parted and he appeared to 
be breathing hard, but he made no move to stop Vanessa.

Vanessa pulled the pin free and stepped back. The top of the costume 
folded slowly downward, clinging momentarily to Helen's globes and then 
sliding free and tumbling about her waist, where it hung from the belt 
cord.

"Oh!... Oh!... " Helen gasped with horror as she gazed at her 
nakedness. Her breasts strained, drawn taut by the tension in her arms. 
The nipples stood out, quivering and beginning to pucker with her 
sudden fright. 'Why doesn't he stop us?' she asked herself.

Vanessa faced the men confidently. "You see? You see, gentlemen? 
Perfection from conquered Minoa! Perfection! Note the ripe fullness... 
the luscious texture... the proud erectness! Where have you ever seen 
such succulent-looking raisins as these?"

To Helen's horrified amazement, Vanessa brushed each of the darkening 
nipples with her fingertips.

"Oh!" she cried impulsively. "ooh! No!" She squirmed, her shoulders 
pressed against the bars. "Don't!" She winced at the jolt of pleasure 
the touch sent through her.

Vanessa winked at her and turned back to the men. "I don't know," she 
said, pretending distress. "I don't know what the market's coming to 
these days. An honest owner shouldn't have to put up with this kind of 
skepticism, Goodness! Can't you what an opportunity you have!" She 
sighed. "Ah, well. All in a day's work." She unfastened the three pins 
holding the costume together at the side and let the sheet drape from 
the cord.

Helen shuddered at the taut boldness of her exposed left thigh. The 
tiny miniskirt Vanessa had designed was shockingly overtaxed by the 
wide angle of Helen's legs and a sick tremor seized her stomach at the 
thought some of her pubic hairs might be visible beneath the ragged 
edge. Only the fact that the sheet covered most of it served as 
consolation. 'He'll stop us now,' she assured herself. 'He won't let us 
go any further; he surely sees what we're ready to do!' She studied 
Art's expression and felt a burst of terror at the fascination that 
appeared to grip him. His gaze met hers and he smiled as if awed.

Vanessa bent and ran her fingers down Helen's bare thigh. Helen felt 
goose flesh pop out and saw the flesh twitch. She had a moment of 
fright at the abrupt convulsion in her pussy. 'No!' she thought. 'I'm 
not like that, still! Oh, no!'

"See the seductive taper," said Vanessa huskily. "Observe how smooth 
the line is from that dainty knee to this girl's playground! Gentlemen! 
Have you no imagination? Gods above!'

Helen had avoided looking at Barry. Now, she glanced without thinking. 
He sprawled in his easychair, legs extended and chin on chest, a great 
bulge showing in the front of his trousers. She looked quickly at her 
husband and discovered his fly was tented. The fact sent a surge of 
excitement through her and she writhed with guilty awareness of the 
pleasure she felt in their attention. 'I'm terrible! Oh, dear! I like 
having them excited!'

She realized belatedly that Vanessa was untying the waist cord. The 
sheet collapsed to the floor, leaving only the skimpy, improvised 
miniskirt to hide Helen's nakedness. She stared at herself, hypnotized 
by the sight of her elongated navel. 'I didn't know my navel would 
show! It didn't in the bedroom! And this thing's so terribly short! I 
know they can see hair! Art! Art, what are you waiting for?!'

Helen tugged at the ankle ropes, suddenly remembering she'd forgotten 
to remove her high-heeled sandals. But there was no slack in the loop 
and no way to relieve the pressure that held the bottom of the skirt so 
high. "Vanessa!" Helen whispered. "Van, we can't go any further!"

Vanessa leaned close. "Honey, we can't stop now! Look how shocked Art 
is already. Only he still doesn't believe we'll go all the way. That's 
what'll clinch it!"

"No! No, Van! I just can't!"

"Sure you can, hon. You're splendid! Anyhow, I won't let you go it by 
yourself. I'll take mine off, too. Think how that'll hit them!" Vanessa 
stepped toward the men. "Come now, good sirs! How stubborn are you 
going to be? Have you ever gazed at greater beauty? Look again at those 
marvelous globes! Imagine one of those saucy nipples tickling the arch 
of your throat!" She cupped her palm under on of Helen's breasts, then 
tenderly rolled the nipple between her fingertips. of delight shook 
Helen and she drew a deep, audible breath.

"Just meditate on the daintiness of this dear waist!" Vanessa 
continued. "Think of it! You could easily encircle it with your two 
hands! The thighs - the hips - please, gentlemen!" She paused panting. 
"What? Still skeptical? Oh, God! What cynic! You demand the last bit, 
don't you!"

"No-no-no... !" Helen moaned softly when Vanessa reached for the pin in 
the waistband of the tiny skirt. "Nonono... ! Oh, Van!" The flesh at 
her waist writhed at the pressure of Vanessa's fingers, and abruptly 
the skirt loosened. "NO!" Helen cried out sharply. She felt the soft 
cloth being dragged across her belly and looked down with a sense of 
disbelief.

Van held the material as if it were a matador's cape, twitching it away 
from Helen's body but using it to screen her pussy from view. While 
Helen watched, the quick hands swished the skirt aside and them back in 
place, offering the men a tantalizing glimpse of her red-haired snatch. 
Helen pressed her ass against the bars and whimpered. She saw her 
husband start from his chair.

'Now!' she thought with a surge of relief. 'Now he's sure! He'll make 
us stop!'

But Art merely came closer, and Barry joined him. Both of them licked 
their lips.

Vanessa sighed and shook her head. "You win," she said. She whipped the 
skirt away and dropped it to the floor.

Helen sagged in her bonds, her flesh crawling and the heat welling at 
her core. Art and Barry devoured her with their stares, and she 
imagined she could feel a physical impact wherever their glances fell. 
'Like when Tony look at me this way!' she thought wildly, reminding 
herself this was the first time any man but the obstetrician had looked 
at her naked pussy since that day. 'It can't be! I'm not really here! 
Not naked and spread-eagled with men gawking at me! Oh, Mother-in-
Heaven, they're raping me with their eyes! And, Helen! You bitch! 
You're all excited!' Her cunt throbbed and she tingled. "Van! Oh, 
please, Van!" She felt hysteria edging into her.

Vanessa whispered. "It's working, hon! It's sinking in! Art's beginning 
to realize what we've done!"

Helen shook her head, rolling it against one of the bars. "I can't 
stand it any longer! Oh, Van, I can't!"

"Just a little more, honey! Let me get you another drink real quick!"

"I'm already dizzy! If I drink another one I won't know what I'm 
doing!"

But Vanessa ran to the bar and poured Vodka into a glass, bringing it 
to Helen without pausing to cut it with orange juice. Helen gauged the 
tumblerful of clear liquid with her eye and a reckless impulse jarred 
her.

"Quick!' she panted. "Quick! I need it!'

Vanessa tilted the glass at Helen's lips and Helen gulped. She gasped 
and coughed, then captured the rim with her lips and drank again. "I'll 
be drunk now!" she exclaimed. "Oh, God, how drunk I'll be!"

She noticed that Barry and her husband were drawing nearer. The Vodka 
burned in her stomach and she imagined it was already killing her 
inhibitions. "Come on," she muttered thickly. "Come on, you lecherous 
bastards. Get a good look."

Art stared into her eyes. He grinned uncertainly and touched her waist. 
She flinched. Needles of excitement pricked her. She pouted with a 
longing like the one she'd felt that day years before. 'I'm wet!' she 
thought. 'My pussy's all wet! Christ, it's hot in here!'

Art stooped and kissed the bulge of her breast. She twisted her 
shoulders against the bars and watched her breasts swing. Art's lips 
parted and closed on her nipple.

'I can't stop him!' she told herself wildly. 'Omigod! Omigod! I never 
felt anything like that!' She cried out, aloud. "Art! Oh, honey! 
Ooooh!"

He sucked tenderly. Currents of pleasure radiated from the captured 
tit, spreading through the tissues beneath it and into her other boob. 
She felt her hips write. In spite of the deep sense of shame that 
hovered in the background, she stared at Art's face. His expression 
made her catch her breath; he looked ecstatically contented, his 
weathered cheek caving in rhythmically with his sucking and his jaw 
moving gently as he chewed the flesh of her breast. With obvious 
effort, he drew back and glanced at Barry.

"Man, this has go to be tasted to be believed! You've got to try a 
mouthful!"

"No! NO!" Helen exclaimed in a terrified whisper. The very thought of 
Barry touching her aroused a raging fire of excitement in her belly. 
"Oh, no!"

Without waiting, Art sucked her tit into his mouth again and laid his 
hand on her belly. Barry edged closer and caught her other tit in his 
mouth.

"Mmm!" exclaimed Vanessa's. His crooked nose wrinkled and she felt his 
hand on the inner fullness of her thigh.

"Ohhh!... MMMM!... " she moaned, feeling the last of her self- control 
evaporating. It was too late to resist the powerful stirrings in her 
belly, she knew. She had no way to slow her rising lust or still her 
body's squirmings. She jerked at the loops on her wrists, using the 
harsh bit to heighten her awareness of her position. Art stroked her 
belly with circular movements of his hand and Barry caressed her inner 
thigh. She ground her ass on the bars.

"Ahahah! Dear God, forgive me!" she whispered in an agony of desire.

She saw Vanessa remove her costume and pull the hairpins out of her 
piled coiffure. Vanessa shook her head, loosening her platinum-blonde 
hair and spreading it over her shoulders. Her cans jiggled with the 
motion and her hips twisted. She caressed her own boobs, grinning at 
Helen and running her hands slowly over her torso to bury her fingers 
in the thick, mouse-brown thatch of her pubic hair.

'She's the sexy one!' Helen admitted to herself. 'Her boobies are twice 
the size of mine! And she's got hips for riding a man! For heaven's 
sake, Helen! Get hold of yourself, you crude shit!' But she knew the 
vodka had combined with her helpless nakedness to rob her of the will 
to object to her own reactions. her ass was bumping the grating with 
rhythmic monotony and her belly was jerking. 'Too many!' she thought. 
'Two's too many!' Her boobs throbbed and she gave up trying to cope 
with the varied sensations that assailed her. 'If they'd only do 
something at the same time!' She was squirming under the thrill of 
Art's tongue as it caressed the tip of one nipple and twitching to the 
electric needles of pleasure Barry's teeth created as he scraped them 
over the slopes of the other.

'Barry,' she thought. 'Barry... BARRY! What's he doing with his hand! 
It's not moving any more!" His hand rested at the top of her thigh, 
nestled against the lip of her pussy, it's heat compounding her own. 
Her hips surged and she pressed her pussy onto the hard edge of his 
knuckles before she knew what she was doing. His thumb stirred and 
slipped into her slit, gliding frictionlessly on her wetness.

"Unh!... UNHHH!" she exclaimed, rising to the balls of her feet. No... 
NO!... Ahhhh, yessss!" She thrust her belly forward as he wedged his 
thumb upward into the mouth of her cunt. "Ahhhh!... AHHH!"

Barry released his hold on her tit and sank to his knees. He kissed her 
belly, pushing Art's hand aside, then thrust the tip of his tongue into 
her navel and twirled it around the edges.

"Umph!... Mmmmp!" she grunted and lashed her ass backward. New fingers 
of delight shot inward from his touch and she arched her back, jabbing 
her protruding belly into Barry's face. She felt his thumb drive deeper 
in her twat, bending to jab at the walls of her vagina.

"AH! Oooh! Ahhh!" she panted.

Vanessa had come forward, she saw dimly, and was rubbing her tits 
against Art's shoulder while she fumbled at his fly with her hands. 
Helen strained to see around her husband's head and past Barry to watch 
her friend's fingers. They vanished into Art's trousers and emerged 
clutching his cock. Vanessa fondled the turgid prick eagerly, squeezing 
the shaft with one hand and caressing the livid head with the other. 
Art pulled his mouth from his wife's boob and faced Vanessa.

"Holy Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You too?"

"Me too, what?" asked the blonde.

"Naked! Oh, shit, baby! Does that mean the green light's on?"

"Try me and see," she murmured.

Helen writhed. 'He's not shocked!' she realized with despair. 'He likes 
what's happening!' And she groaned inwardly. 'So do I,' she admitted. 
'Oh, God, so do I!'

Art chose that moment to turn and gaze into her face. Their glances met 
and held and she thrilled to the savage joy she saw in his eyes.

He grinned happily at her and looked down at Barry. His excitement 
leaped visible and he bent to pear at the other man's hand. "All the 
way, man! All the way!" he exclaimed.

Something snapped in Helen and a new flood of fierce joy twisted her 
belly. She flung herself out from the bars, hanging in her ropes, and 
ground her cunt on the embedded thumb.

Art grinned at her again and his lips formed the words, "Good girl!" He 
turned back to Vanessa. "Hey, woman! I got time to get out of these 
clothes?"

"Do it fast, then! My mouth's watering!" Vanessa clutched Art's cock in 
both hands and squeezed.

Art stared at the trembling blonde with round eyes and tore at his 
clothing. He threw it from him and let Vanessa push him into the 
nearest armchair. "Jesus, Van! What the hell!"

"Foreskin, baby!" she exclaimed. "It's been a long time without." She 
glanced toward Barry with an expression Helen took for guilt. "I like 
it without," she added quickly. "It's just that I haven't tasted one 
with for so long."

Barry's chuckle rumbled. "Don't apologize. Go ahead and get a 
mouthful!"

Vanessa nodded, her face red and contorted, and fell to her knees 
beside Art's legs. She rested her boobs on his thighs and put her lips 
to the tip of his cock. For a time, she sucked at the very tip, opening 
her mouth to place her lips around the bulb, then drawing them over it 
as if stripping the outer surface from an ice cream cone. her 
appearance of agitation disappeared. She closed her eyes and smiled 
around the bulk of Art's cockhead. Her color returned to its normal 
lustrous bronze tint.

"Mmmmm!" she sighed. "All mine." She opened her mouth to its full 
extent and worked her lips slowly over the bulb and foreskin to the end 
of the shaft. Her eyelashes fluttered and she gazed up at Art. He 
caressed her cheek with his fingertips, his face set in an expression 
of rapt concentration. Helen's initial sense of repugnance faded and an 
intense longing replaced it. Her mouth puckered at the notion of 
engulfing that cock. 'Oh, Helen!' she scolded herself.

An incredible sensation of warmth and vibrancy exploded in her pussy. 
She cried out and twisted her hips, then thrust her crotch forward. 
Barry had seated himself, cross-legged, between her feet. His mouth 
held her clitoris and his eyes twinkled up at her.

"Barry!" she whispered. "Oh, Barry! Nnng!'

His hands cupped around her asscheeks, kneading them firmly. The 
pleasure at her cunt swelled and pulsed, and her hips drove forward and 
rotated her pussy up. She twisted her body in a paroxysm of delight, 
biting her lip and moaning. Through the fabric of her excitement she 
felt her asscheeks being parted and Barry's fingers driving deeply into 
her crack.

"No, Barry! Don't! she hissed through her clenched teeth. "Ohhh! Barry! 
Goood!" She flung her ass hard against his probing fingers as they 
caressed her rectum.

Movement caught her eye. She realized Vanessa had removed her mouth 
from Art's cock and was standing. Art had his hands at Vanessa's wait 
and she was climbing onto his shoulder. Helen stared, puzzled. The 
voluptuous blonde lay forward on Art's body, her legs astride his neck 
and he face over his cock once more. Art thrust his tongue into his 
hostess' twat and she gobbled at his cock, forcing the head into her 
mouth and sliding her lips up and down on the shaft.

Helen gazed at her husband, envious of the way Vanessa's boobs spread 
over his belly and the way the tanned body molded itself to his.

She was vaguely aware that Barry was dragging his fingers across the 
wet mouth of her pussy, caressing it's rim and slipping in and out of 
it. She forgot the other couple and banged against the grating. "Mmmm! 
Mmm, Barry! Good!"

His fingers slid back into her ass crack and pressed at her rectum, 
arousing new tremors. There was a sudden increase in the pressure and a 
weird sensation of stretching.

"Ah!... Agh!... What is it, Barry?!"

He sucked more vigorously on her clitoris and all her sensations 
blended into a single mountain of enjoyment.

Her vision cleared and she looked at Vanessa and Art again. Vanessa's 
back undulated up and down and her feet flailed the air. The shimmering 
blonde hair flew in a writhing mass around Vanessa's head and over 
Art's hips, and Art's hands clamped on Vanessa bouncing ass, holding 
her pussy at his mouth.

Vanessa jerked her head up, clinging to Art's cock with both hands. 
"Art!" she cried. "Art! Omigod! You're going to make me cum!" She 
lunged at his prick again, jamming her mouth over it and sucking 
violently.

Art's eyes grew round and his face worked. He drove his tongue into the 
gaping cunt and sucked the outer flesh into his mouth, chewing hard. 
Vanessa's head bobbed wildly as her mouth stroked the great shaft, and 
she slammed her ass down, crushing her twat against Art's face. Her 
body stiffened and broke into a great tremor, but she maintained the 
furious assault with her lips.

Art's knuckles whitened and his fingers dug into the full asscheeks. 
His body stiffened and his ass rose from the chair. Helen saw his cock 
pulse and realized intuitively he was cumming. She watched Vanessa's 
face with breathless fascination. The staring blonde swallowed hard and 
continued to suck, her throat working continuously. Her smooth, plump 
legs straightened and the toes pointed at the far wall while Vanessa's 
ass quivered in the intensity of her orgasm.

Helen sagged when she saw the climaxing couple collapse. She realized 
with horror that she had risen dangerously near the kind of perverse 
ecstasy she hadn't experienced since her summer with Tony. Barry's 
mouth left her pussy and his finger withdrew from her ass.

Barry heaved himself to his feet and pressed his cock into the flesh of 
her belly. "Anyone ever tell you what a sexy Goddamn broad you are, 
Helen!" he panted.

"Barry, please," she said in a low tone. "Please."

He rubbed his cock against her belly. "I'm so hot I'm about to bust a 
blood vessel!" he exclaimed. "Those other two make it yet?" He glanced 
over his shoulder and chuckled. "Looks like they did. Shit, they're one 
up on us. Come on, let's fuck."

"Barry! Oh, Barry, don't talk like that, please!"

"Okay. No talk. Let's just do it." He bent his knees, pressing them 
against the undersides of her thighs, and his cockhead slid down 
through her pubic hair and under her crotch. She felt its bulk nestle 
in her labia and gasped.

'He's going to! He is!' "Barry! Barry, they didn't do that! Barry!"

He surged upward and his cock slammed into her cunt, driving into her 
guts and filling her with a fiery sensation.

"Yaghhh!... Eeeaghhh!... MMMM!" Her hips flogged and her cunt pounded 
on the base of the buried cock. Barry grabbed her ass and jerked her 
away from the grate, straining up so her feet left the floor and pulled 
violently against her ankle bonds.

"Ah!... Ah!... AH!... " she gasped at each of his thrusts. Her pleasure 
roared over her and she forgot everything but the gush of sensation. 
Her belly tensed and a hard knot formed around the deep- pressed 
cockhead. She mumbled in a monotone, "Fuck-fuck-fuck!"

Barry's cock stroked in her. Her boobs jounced and her knees jerked. An 
ocean of passion rose over her and carried her beyond herself. She felt 
the knot in her belly jerk loose as a hard contraction snapped the 
mouth of her vagina on Barry's prick. A hard trembling shook her and 
she turned rigid. "MMMM!... AHHH!... " Her moans carried the edge of 
her lust. She wallowed in her climax, aware that Barry's pumping had 
yielded to a steady, frenzied force against her. A flood of liquid heat 
ballooned her gut and her orgasm redoubled in ferocity. She screamed 
with delight and scrubbed her pussy in the steel wool of his pubic 
hair. He thrust his face forward and grabbed her nipple with his mouth, 
biting on it while his jism continued to well into her. And his fingers 
kneaded her buttocks mercilessly.

At last, his inner storm appeared to subside; his hands relaxed and the 
awful upward force of his cock slackened. Helen's cunt spasms slowed 
and she let her head fall against one arm.

"Oh! Oh, Barry!"

"Hey, we made it together, baby!"

"Oh, my! Yes, we did!"

"Know something?" he asked in a low tone. "I've come out of a sound 
sleep where I was dreaming I was fucking you, Helen! I've wanted to 
ever since the first time I saw you! Only I never dreamed about doing 
it this way! Jesus Christ, but you're a great fuck!"

"Oh, darling, don't spoil it by using the wrong words! Please!" She 
twisted, still impaled on his cock and still unable to reach the floor 
with her feet. "Barry... I'm hanging by my wrists. They're numb!"

He lowered her and reluctantly pulled out his prick. She fell against 
the bars, panting and weak, while his hands continued to rove over her 
body. To her horror, she discovered that her sensory system was still 
capable of stimulus. Excitement jabbed at her and her hips began to 
twist again. Barry massaged and stroked until she was pleading for his 
cock, and she was hardly conscious of the fact he was untying her. She 
collapsed in his arms and let him carry her to the couch, where he laid 
her on her side. She made no protest when he pushed the knee of her 
upper leg against her chest and straddled the other thigh, his cock 
once more stabbing at her hot vagina. She undulated her hips in time to 
his beat and happily rose again to an orgasm, fleetingly aware that 
Vanessa had her legs locked around Art's hips, lashing her body on his 
embedded prick.

When she collapsed for the second time, Barry bent over her, his 
softening cock still buried and his hand idly fondling her tit.

"You're good lying down, too, baby," he said. "What a lucky guy Art 
is!"

Helen shook her head. "You don't know," she said. "Maybe you're the 
lucky one."

"Oh, hell! I wasn't saying Van's not great! I didn't mean that!"

She bubbled with laughter at the panic in his face and a rush of 
tenderness and affection for him took her by surprise. "Mm, you're 
sweet, Barry." She snuggled against him.

Helen lay beneath Barry for a long time, her pussy contracting 
involuntarily at intervals. As the effects of her vodka wore off, the 
contractions began to embarrass her and the flashes of anguish made her 
shudder each time she squeezed his cock.

'But what can I do?' she asked herself. 'How can I undo what's already 
a fact? He's in and we both know it.' She restrained her growing 
restiveness until Barry eased his cock out of her and lay beside her. 
To her chagrin, her first response to him gathering her in his arms and 
pushing his limp dick into the nest of her pubic hair was to return the 
pressure. Realizing too late what she had implied, she buried her face 
in the hollow of his neck and whimpered.

"Pretty much for one night, isn't it, baby?" Barry whispered.

"Yes."

"First time?"

"Yes. The first time tied up - or naked - or with the lights on - or 
most of the other things. And the first time with anyone except Art. 
Not counting Danny's father, of course." She wasn't going into that 
episode.

"Baby, don't let it get you down."

"Huh?"

"I mean, you can't hide from yourself, and no one else is important 
enough to hide from."

"Like now?"

"Like now." Barry gently lifted her face from his shoulder and Grinned.

'His teeth are as crooked as his nose,' she thought. 'I forgot that 
when he was chewing me.' It struck her that he was heavier than Art... 
stockier and with more bulges. His features reminded her of the face of 
a granite cliff, seamed and craggy, and his eyes were a gray-green that 
looked out of place with his olive complexion. It was a wonder he could 
sell anything, and she recalled wondering often how he could stay at 
the top of his field. But his very roughness was a source of comfort to 
her right now, as if homeliness guaranteed sympathy and understanding. 
Her only problem was the increasingly nagging awareness of her 
nakedness and the intimacy of their embrace.

"But, Barry! What'll I do? Brrr! You realize what I've done tonight?"

Barry nodded and grinned again. "Christ, yes! It's something you ought 
to be proud of! Something to remember! Look how Art ate it up?"

"He... he was terrible!"

"Because he liked what was going on?"

"Yes. Oh, Barry!" she wailed. "He should have stopped us!"

"Forget it, baby. I'll bet he's never been that turned on in his whole 
life. No offense to you either."

"But imagine what he must think of me! To act like that after all this 
time!"

"Look, pet. Don't answer me if you don't want to. But keep asking 
yourself and giving honest answers when you do. Did you enjoy what 
happened? At the time, I mean. Did the things I did to you feel good? 
Was it good to see how excited Art got and how much fun he had?

She shook her head slowly. "Those aren't the important questions, 
Barry. The only important question is, 'Was it right or wrong?"

"That's not a good question until you decide what right and wrong mean. 
What they mean to you! To me, what you did was right because it was fun 
for everyone here - because no one else will ever know about it and 
can't get hurt - because maybe it accomplished something worthwhile. 
Right is something different from socially acceptable or conventional, 
baby!"

"You believe that, don't you?"

"Damn right! And I think you're too big a person not to agree, once you 
really think about it."

She tried to think about it, but her awareness of his cock's stirrings 
continued to distract her. At last she giggled and pulled back. "Barry, 
darling... "

"Huh?"

"Whether it's right or wrong, I'm getting sober enough to feel 
embarrassed. Would you mind if I went and got some clothes on?"

"I'd mind. But I suppose if I'm too greedy this time I'll screw myself 
out of the chance to get another piece from you later on?"

She wanted to tell him his consideration wasn't about to earn him a 
repeat performance, then though better of it; if she said something 
like that, he might take it as a subtle hint she wouldn't resent greed.

She scrambled over him, furious at herself when she paused to let her 
pussy rest on his warm flesh for a moment. His quick grin assured her 
he hadn't missed the significance of her hesitation, and she fled with 
burning cheeks. When she got back to the living room, both men were 
dressed and Vanessa was parading before them.

"Oh! There you are!" exclaimed Vanessa. "I guess I've got to get 
respectable, too. Looks like the games are over." She vanished into the 
hall.

The conversation seemed strained to Helen. No one mentioned the orgy, 
although she was certain it was uppermost in every mind. With each 
trivial comment, she became less patient and more self-conscious. The 
vision of her nude, spread-eagled body grew so vivid in her imagination 
that she felt she would see herself if she looked at the grating. And 
her memory of the individual caresses she'd experienced were sharper in 
the quiet of reflection than they'd been in the haze of her passion - 
so strong she was afraid Barry and Art would see them in her eyes if 
she glanced at them. When Vanessa returned, Helen mumbled apologies and 
urged Art to take her home.

"We do have to get up early," she said, cringing in the expectation 
that someone might wisecrack she'd only wanted to stay long enough for 
the sex.

But there was no such jibe, and Art sighed happily at her suggestion. 
"Thanks for everything," he said to Vanessa. "Helen's right, though. 
Five-thirty comes early, and I've go to be out at that six-way 
interchange first thing in the morning. "See you both soon!'

In the car, he made no pretense about the way he felt. "Come on over 
here," he said with a gentle growl. "What's the sense in having all 
that empty space between us?" He held out his arm and she slid into it, 
tensing for the follow-up she anticipated.

To her surprise, he merely held her, seemingly content to feel her 
warmth at his side. And they were nearly home before he spoke again.

"I don't know what brought that business on tonight, sugar. Maybe I'm 
not supposed to. But I could see it was costing you, and I think you 
were something else! You showed guts, doll!"

"You're not disgusted with me?"

"That's the last word I'd think of using. It's at the wrong end of the 
scale." After another silence, he asked, "Hey, where was that snotty 
kid sister of Van's?"

"Olga?" Helen tried to recall Van's mentioning the girl, but without 
success. "I don't know, honey. Maybe she went home.'

"Naw. They'd have made a big deal of it last night."

"Probably had a date or something."

"Yeah, I guess. They sure didn't seem worried about her showing up 
early, though."

Helen shuddered. "I'm glad I didn't remember her! I'd have been a 
wreck!"

Art chuckled. 'That'll be the day! You being a wreck, I mean."

When they got into their own bedroom, Art went into the bathroom as 
usual and Helen took advantage of the time to get ready for bed. And as 
usual, when he came out, she was tucked securely under the covers. As 
he had done the night before, however, Art appeared nude. He paused in 
the bathroom doorway and gazed reflectively at her.

"Honey," he said at last. "Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Come here."

She hesitated. Something about the light in his eye warned her he had 
no interest in sleep. 'As if he'd come out here naked if he meant to 
sleep,' she commented to herself. "It's late, honey," she murmured.

Art grinned. "Come here, baby."

Reluctantly, she turned the covers back and sat up. Still reluctant, 
she rose and went to him. "Art, I wish you wouldn't come out here like 
this. It's... " She stopped abruptly.

'I know," he replied. He took her in his arms and kissed her on the 
mouth.

She stood stiffly in the circle of his arms and held her lips quiet 
against his. Knowing how cold she would seem if she remained entirely 
passive; she put her arms around his shoulders, her fingers on the back 
of his neck. The scent of the masculine soap he used and the tangy odor 
of his cologne washed across her nostrils while the bristles on his 
neck pricked her hands. His lean body was hard and warm against hers, 
slipping on the nylon of her nightgown. She felt a stirring at her 
belly and knew that his cock was rising.

A wave of hunger surged through her, taking her by surprise and making 
her tighten her grip. Her body reacted as if her mental control were 
still under the paralysis of vodka. She crushed her mouth on his and 
rolled her head. Her breasts flattened against his chest and she thrust 
her pussy against the ridge of his upper thigh. Slowly and 
deliberately, she wiggled her belly on his cock. Her hunger turned hot 
and raced back and forth through her.

Art squeezed her buttocks gently and she felt the hem of her nightgown 
rising. Breaking free of the kiss, she protested. "No, Art! Don't!"

"Easy, baby, easy." His tone was soft and soothing, but he had the gown 
up to her hips and was continuing to lift it.

"Art! No! Don't do that!"

He let go of her nightgown and twisted free of her arms. Without 
moving, he seemed to draw away, and she gazed numbly into an expression 
more remote than she'd ever seen on his features.

"Art... " she whispered. "Art, honey?"

In as low, flat tone, he asked, "Want me to tie you up first? That the 
idea?"

"Art! Oh, no, Art! Please don't ever say a thing like that again!" 
She'd been so drunk... she'd been trying to shock him out of his sex 
thing... Vanessa had stampeded her... But she'd done it, nonetheless, 
and now she wouldn't. The worst thing of all was the way she'd let 
Barry treat her. She hadn't screamed or fought or cursed him; she'd 
wallowed on his hand and his mouth and then his cock like the most 
primitive slut in heat. She'd loved it! And Art had seen and known. 
'What could he possibly think if I couldn't do as much - respond as 
hard - with him?' she asked herself. 'Reasons don't count... not when 
he's got pictures like that in his mind.'

She backed slowly away from her husband. At arm's length from him, she 
reached down mechanically, arms crossed, and grasped the material of 
her nightgown. Intensely conscious of the need for grace, she peeled 
the garment from her body and over her head, tossing it toward the 
vanity chair. She ran her fingers through her auburn hair and shook her 
head as Vanessa had done to fluff the thick masses into a cloud about 
her shoulders. Gazing into Art's sober eyes, she backed to the bed and 
lay back on it.

"All right," she whispered. And after a momentary silence, she extended 
her arms above her head. "My legs, too?" she asked.

Art came to the side of the bed and stared at her. "Sugar, that's the 
most beautiful body I've ever seen! Anywhere! Jesus, how much I've been 
missing!"

'Beauty!' She struggled to adjust to the idea. She'd thought of 
nakedness as dirty. Displaying the body was a wanton invitation to sex, 
and in a marriage - where sex belonged - invitations weren't needed or 
desirable. But Art was talking about beauty, and at the moment the idea 
seemed to have displaced sex in his thoughts. She was still acutely 
conscious of his stare, though, and it still produced sharp tingles 
just under her skin. 'I want him!' she realized. 'I want him to make 
love to me! He thinks my body's beautiful, and I want him to feel the 
beauty if it's there.'

She raised her knees and thrust them apart. "Come here," she said 
softly. She saw his eyelids flicker in disbelief, and she let the 
corners of her mouth quirk into a smile. "Come here, man." she 
repeated.

He grinned and knelt, one knee between her thighs, then bent over her 
and sucked a nipple into his mouth. She held her breath, her hands 
holding his face and her thighs clamped on his knee.

"Darling!" she whispered. Her desire had ballooned in the brief moments 
of his touching her until it overwhelmed everything else. She loved Art 
and all the physical excitement and imaginative stimulation she'd 
enjoyed earlier in the night coalesced around that love in a pounding 
heady ecstasy. She couldn't hold still. Her hands left his face and 
caressed the sides of his body. She rubbed her legs on his. Her hips 
twisted and her shoulders flexed. And she moaned low and continuously.

Art lowered himself, guiding the nose of his cock into the embrace of 
her labia, then thrust urgently, plunging it through her rim and into 
the heart of her vagina. Clutching her to him, he rolled with her so he 
lay on his back and she lay astraddle his hips. He seized her buttocks 
and stroked her on his cock, jerking her entire body back and forth. 
Her breasts surged on his chest while his body hair harshly scrubbed 
her nipples. He pried her asscheeks apart and fingered her rectum, 
dipping his finger into the fluid at her cunt and lubricating her with 
the juice.

"Art! Art, baby!" Helen crooned, abandoning herself to her most 
sensuous longings. Her clitoris rode on the rocky base of her husband's 
cock and drove her into spasms of delight. She tightened her buttocks 
convulsively when she felt his finger plunge into her rectum, and then 
a new wave of thrills forced her thighs to their widest angle and 
brought a deep groan of pleasure from her throat.

"This where it's at, baby," Art muttered between grunts. "You being all 
woman and me all man."

"Art, baby," she said with a hiss. "Fuck me!" She said it reverently, 
using the words to seal a bond between them she hadn't been able to 
accept before. With it, she promised him her hidden Helen.

He pounded her on his cock, his hips driving in opposition to her 
motion until the convulsions of orgasm swept her and the heat of his 
cum seethed in her belly.

"Ahhh!" She clenched her teeth, then opened her jaws wide. "Aghhh!... 
Nnnh!... Yes, yes, yes!"

Her tension exploded and she writhed with the force of her 
contractions. And even while she sobbed her pleasure at Art, the 
awesome sensations faded and she began to go limp. She collapsed, 
muscle by muscle, lying quietly on her husband with the fullness of her 
cunt and her ass still the only firm realities in her universe.

"I love you, darling," she whispered.

"Yeah, sugar. I love you, too."

They clung to each other. Art reeking of satisfaction and she trying to 
keep the memory of her great pleasure uppermost in her mind. His 
breathing quieted and grew increasingly regular, until a faint snore 
told Helen he slept. She squirmed cautiously off his cock and pulled 
the covers over them. After a long time, Art stirred and when he 
turned, she slipped off him and settled onto the mattress. She stared 
at the ceiling, not caring that the light was still burning, and let 
the night's events filter through her mind.

In trying to change her husband, she'd changed herself. 'Not changed, 
though,' she insisted silently. 'I can't pretend I don't know myself. 
I'm what I was before Grandma died.' She faced the fact bleakly. 
'That's the me I've been trying to hide - no, to kill - all this time.' 
That was the lustful, physical self, she decided; and she stripped away 
her old defenses to weigh her discovery. 'I can't be both. There can 
only be one, either the modest, spiritual one or the lustful, wicked 
one. And Art wants me lustful.'

She watched a speck on the ceiling - an insect too small to identify - 
make its way across the featureless surface, neither digressing nor 
wandering from its straight line. 'It only goes one direction at a 
time,' she reflected. 'It knows where it's going - instinct maybe - and 
it goes. All right! I know I want Art! I know what he wants me to be. 
So that's the me I'm going to be.'

She slept, dreaming of her new role and waking often in a panic at the 
nature of her dreams. When light came and she gave up further effort to 
sleep, she wasted little time on introspection. She reiterated her 
decision and conceded the change would be difficult. She knew it 
herself; every influence in her background had contributed to make her 
abhor halfway measures or attitudes. Her entire mental foundation 
consisted of blocks that were platitude and truisms. "There's no such 
thing as half right." "If you start to do something, do it all the way. 
You can't live on both sides of the fence."

She missed Dan at breakfast. Art's exuberance was the only thing that 
salvaged the meal. She thought she'd not seen him as enthusiastic and 
warm since their marriage. After he'd left the house, she turned to her 
never-ending dusting and vacuuming with a glow of satisfaction in her 
decision. Despite that crutch to her morale, however, there were times 
during the day when she felt she was experiencing a bleakness even 
worse than she'd suffered when she became pregnant with Dan. And she 
felt sharp pangs of guilt over having shunted Dan off the night before. 
As a gesture of restitution, she baked bread and cookies in the 
afternoon.

Danny appeared to have felt the situation as strongly as she. He was 
early. "Shortcuts," he offered when she remarked on the fact. And he 
was effusive, hugging her affectionately before letting her see the way 
his nose wiggled at the scents that floated from the kitchen. She 
kissed him again, then watched his broad shoulders sway as he hurried 
toward the smells, his black hair swishing on his neck. The day was a 
good one after all.

With her tensions dissolving, she sighed and remembered she hadn't had 
her bath. She called to Dan that she'd be in her room for a while and 
went back to draw water in the sunken tub. She poured a double portion 
of bubble bath and began to undress. As an afterthought, while she was 
knotting the belt on her dressing gown, she loosened the knot, slipped 
out of the severe garment and laid it aside.

'Not me,' she thought. 'That's the old modesty.' She went to the radio 
on the dresser, tuned it to an FM station with a program of the older, 
romantic music, and went back to the bathroom, shivering at her 
nakedness and leaving the door open so she could relax to the music. 
She slipped gratefully into the water and sank into the mounds of 
bubbles. It was a fine day, she decided, and it would be even better 
when she had her man at home.

"Mom!... Mom!... " Dan's voice came from the other end of the house.

"Yes?" she called.

It appeared he hadn't heard her. He continued to shout, no urgency in 
his tone, as he roamed the house looking for her. She smiled. 'Always,' 
she thought. 'Always the same. And it doesn't matter what he wants to 
tell me. It's just being able to when he wants to.'

"Mom!"

"Yes, Danny!"

"Oh, Mom?"

"What?"

He could tell her from the bedroom, calling through the open doors. 'It 
would never do to wait,' she reflected. 'Not for Danny.'

"I'm in here," she called.

Oh. Okay." He'd reached the bedroom, she decided. "Hey, Mom. I wondered 
if... "

She gasped. Danny loomed in the doorway, his eyes getting round as he 
realized she was in the tub. He appeared to be paralyzed, his gaze 
fixed on her suds-flecked breasts and his mouth still open.

"Mom! I... "

She realized suddenly she'd been paralyzed, too. With a burst of 
motion, she slid down into the water until only her head remained 
exposed. "Danny!"

"Gee, Mom! I didn't know... I mean, the door's... "

"It's... it's all right, Danny. My fault. Never mind. What was it?"

He shuffled from one foot to the other, his face flushed.

'He doesn't know what to do,' she realized. 'He can't sink through the 
floor, and turning around and running would be too undignified at his 
age. He's trying to figure out how to appear casual - how to look blase 
about it all.'

Dan drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Crossing to the 
toilet, he seated himself on the closed lid and leaned against the 
tank. "I get it, I guess," he said.

"Hm?"

"It's like they said at school. You know, in Social Adjustments. About 
us getting to the age when it's time to start learning the facts of 
life."

"Oh," she replied weakly. "What was it you wanted?"

"Huh? Oh! I wanted you to come look at Smokey. He was doing a new 
trick... bowing." Danny grinned. "Sure looked funny with his rump in 
the air and his knees on the ground."

She giggled. Her mental image of the tiny donkey, his ears as big as he 
was, bowing to Danny provided a trigger to release the tension in the 
situation. "I wish I could. See it, I mean."

"He'll do it whenever I tell him now," said Danny airily. He gazed 
thoughtfully at her. "Mom, sometimes I just can't get over how 
complicated you and Dad are."

"How do you mean?"

Well, I mean you're too complicated for me to figure out yet. Like I 
think I know exactly what you think - I figure a rule is because 
something's just right or wrong - and then all of a sudden I find out 
it was just because you didn't think I was old enough. Like not talking 
about Dad's salary. I used to think it was some kind of big secret no 
one ever knew. And then I got old enough you knew I wouldn't go around 
yakking about it. Or like knowing what I was... about not knowing I was 
half Indian until last year. Same thing. And I always figured people 
seeing other people without their clothes on was something you and Dad 
had a hang-up about. I was wondering how a guy learned all that stuff 
they were talking about in Social Adjustments - except the theoretical 
junk, I mean. All of a sudden it turns out I was just too young for 
that, too." He grinned sheepishly. "Shoulda known better."

"Yes." Her voice caught in her throat. 'I'm trapped!' she thought. 'My 
God, there's nothing I can do!' And then, 'Yes there is! I can tell him 
that this is one time that it isn't a matter of how old he is!'

But Danny had leaned toward her and was continuing in his little boy, 
confidential tone. "I'm glad, Mom. I did want to know, and the books 
and pictures just didn't do it. Besides, I've been feeling awful funny 
some of the time. I've been dreaming things and thinking funny things 
when I look at girls - or women." He stared meaningfully at her.

'No! Oh, no!' she thought wildly. She wasn't going to be able to tell 
him this was a special case. Not after he'd revealed himself to her so 
honestly. She steeled herself and pushed herself slowly back to a 
sitting position, deliberately letting the foam slide off her breasts, 
leaving them shiny and smooth beneath her son's wide-eyed stare.

His eyes were like a physical caress on her breasts and she felt her 
nipples swell, harden, and stand erect.

"Danny, get the towel... that big, thick green one."

"Huh? Oh, okay." He rose and brought the towel.

Helen's hand trembled as she pushed the lever to drain the tub. She 
extended her arm toward Danny. "Help me out," she said, her lips dry 
with fear.

Danny took her hand and lifted while she climbed out of the sunken tub 
to stand before him on the tile. She saw his body tense as his gaze 
fell to the rich auburn of her pubic hair. Again, his glance was like a 
touch and she was uncomfortably aware of the sudden tightening in her 
pussy.

"You dry me." she said, forcing a smile. "I'll be the queen."

Danny laughed self-consciously and began to towel her. She winced but 
smiled more broadly at the way he lingered while he dried her breasts. 
And she rose to the balls of her feet and grabbed his shoulders when he 
pressed too long into the sensitive flesh of her pussy.

"All right!" she whispered. "All right, Danny! Thank you."

"Did I do okay, Mom? Do I get the job?

'Get the job?' Alarm flared. "What do you mean?"

"You gonna wait for your bath 'til I get home from now on so I can dry 
you?"

"Danny!"

"Didn't I do it good?"

"Yes... Yes, you get the job, Danny."

He let his glance sweep over her, taking in the glow of her skin and 
the firm curves of her flesh. Admiration was so clearly evident in his 
expression that she couldn't bring herself to resent the frank 
interest. For a moment, then, they were frozen in uncertainty, while 
Helen wondered how to bring the episode to a close and struggled 
against the rising wave of awareness that pervaded her.

"Gee, Mom! That's great!" said Danny, starting as if suddenly conscious 
of his concentrated survey. "Just great! About the stuff from that 
class... "

He was now counting on her help, she knew. She had allowed him to think 
she'd provide it and he'd see no reason why any other time would be 
better than now. He certainly wouldn't forget the commitment. And if 
she was going to yield on that point, delay would buy nothing.

"Okay," she murmured. "What about it? What would help most?"

"Well... " he hesitated. "Well, there was a lot of stuff about how 
girls are... well, put together. About how women are built. It's just 
hard to visualize. And that was way at the start of the semester!"

"I... I'll show you." She was finding it hard to breath. She was going 
to let him examine her and the bed - any bed - would be too suggestive.

"What time is it, Danny?" she asked.

"Hm... two-thirty."

Art would get home at six or a little after. No one else would come 
before then. She could choose the setting without fear of interruption. 
She braced herself and smiled. "Okay. There's time. Come on, son."

Danny followed her into the dining room, looking puzzled.

"I'll get on the table," she said, fighting for calm. "Just like an 
examining table. That way, you can move around any way you need to."

Danny studied the drop leaf table, now standing against the window with 
its leaves down. He brightened. "Hey, Mom! Super!"

"Move it away from the wall so you can get to the other side if you 
want to."

"Okay."

He moved the table away from the wall and stood back.

"Need help, Mom?"

"I'll make it." She hitched herself onto the end of the table and 
hesitated a moment before laying back.

She was suddenly reminded of her first visit to the gynecologist. It 
had been the exact same set of emotions then as now. Nervous because 
she didn't know exactly what was going to happen and a touch of guilt 
because she knew she was going to find it exciting.

It was all she could do to avoid folding her hands over her crotch, but 
she folded them under the back of her head instead, and winced at the 
expression of sudden new interest in Danny's eyes.

"Gee! That makes you look different!"

"How?"

"Well, I mean the way it makes your ribs stand up and stretches your... 
your breasts!"

"Oh." She levered herself backwards and lifted her knees, setting her 
heels against her buttocks. "All right, Son. Find out what you need to 
know." She slid her feet outward to the sides and let her knees fall 
away from each other. The air chilled her twat and sent a sharp tingle 
into her belly.

Danny bent over her to peer intently at her breasts. He probed at the 
bulging surfaces with a finger and a look of awe passed over his face. 
The touch of his finger was like that of an electrode to Helen. She 
drew a deep breath, embarrassed at the quivery sound. And when he took 
a nipple between his fingers, rolling it and exploring its texture, she 
gasped audibly.

"Mmmmm!"

He jerked his hand away. "Mom! Did I hurt you? I'm sorry! Oh, Mom!"

"No, no!" She was distressed at his agitation. "You didn't do anything 
wrong, Son! It's just that some spots are awfully sensitive. They're 
supposed to be. Go ahead; just don't be surprised when I jerk or make a 
noise." He grinned. "Okay. If you say so, Mom." He resumed his 
examination of her breasts and she tensed against the growing flood of 
tremors his fingers produced.

Despite her efforts, muscles fluttered involuntarily and a primitive 
excitement heated her. She suspected - and then became thoroughly 
convinced - that Danny was teasing her. He'd certainly had time to 
complete his familiarization, yet he continued to manipulate her 
nipples. She knew she couldn't absorb much more of that kind of 
stimulus without making some major - and unmistakable - body movement.

She protested, trying to make it sound light. "Danny! That's not fair!"

He laughed and gave each nipple a last affectionate tweak. "Okay, Mom."

He tweaked harder than he had been and a powerful jolt of excitement 
raced through her. She felt a gush of warmth in her pussy and groaned 
knowing that she'd started to ooze. Danny went around the table to 
stand at her feet and she turned her head, looking out the window, into 
the side yard. But curiosity tugged hard at her as she felt Danny's 
hands on her knees. Gently, he pushed them further apart and down until 
her crotch was spread as far as it would go. She felt the slow parting 
of her pussy lips, their sticky surfaces separating reluctantly, and 
shuddered at the realization that her vagina was opening before her 
son's eyes.

She forced herself to look at him. His head was lowered and he was 
staring wide-eyed into the pink playground. As if he were unaware of 
their movement, his hands stroked down along the inner slopes of her 
thighs toward her crotch. Her legs twitched and she felt an involuntary 
tightening in her buttocks.

'Oh, no!' she thought. 'I mustn't poke it at him! Dear God, don't let 
my hips jerk!'

Danny refrained from teasing. He seemed competent in his examination, 
using his fingers only to lay her pussy lips further open and to 
explore the consistency of each type of flesh he found, but even those 
contacts acted as powerful stimuli. Helen gasped frequently and moaned 
from time to time. By concentrating exclusively on her hips, she kept 
them still, but her belly writhed almost continuously.

At last her son straightened and gazed across her trembling body into 
her eyes. "Okay, I guess I've got a good picture of the parts." he 
said. He frowned as if trying to recall something. "Oh! I forgot!" He 
bent again and put his fingers to her pussy.

She dragged in a huge lungful of air as she felt him pealing back the 
fleshy hood over her clitoris. "AGHHH!" Her hips leaped.

Danny winced but continued his exploration, feeling the slopes and 
rubbing the tip of the tiny lump.

"Ah!... Ah!... " Helen's hips writhed as she swung them from side to 
side.

Danny took his hands away and straightened again. She saw beads of 
perspiration on his upper lip and he wiped his forehead with the back 
of his hand. "That was your clitoris, then," he said.

"Yes!" she panted. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold still. That's the most 
sensitive spot a woman has, Son."

"It's okay. I could see it pretty good. It's awful little, though, 
isn't it?"

"Yes. It does swell, though. It's like a man's penis."

"Yeah?" He glanced down at her pussy again. "Thanks, Mom. That gets the 
old stuff out of the way."

"Old stuff?"

"Well, you know how they are in school. They do all the stuff they call 
'basic' first. Like anatomy in this course. And then there's a lot of 
jazz about how a baby develops and gets born. After that, they separate 
the class. Mr. Duffy's got us guys now: he's going into stuff about 
marriage relations. I really need help seeing what he's getting at 
there!"

Helen stiffened. "Like what?" she demanded.

"Like stimulus centers and reactions."

She heaved a sigh of relief. She'd visualized his wanting to explore 
the mechanics of insertion. "Well... " she hesitated. "That's going to 
be tougher, Son."

"How come?"

She knew if she let him experiment in the techniques of stimulation she 
wasn't going to be able to maintain any semblance of calm. It was 
barely possible she might lose control of herself, altogether, and grab 
him in her passion. She couldn't let herself forget that strange inner 
excitement she sometimes felt about him. On the other hand if it was 
legitimate for him to examine her as he had, it was surely legitimate 
for him to see for himself how various sensual centers could be used to 
affect the woman's responses.

"Sexual stimulus affects involuntary nerves," she said slowly. "I know 
I couldn't cooperate right. There's a natural effort sometimes to 
interfere - the sensation's just too strong to take, even though it's 
wonderful."

Danny nodded, his face clouding with disappointment.

"Look, Danny," she said impulsively. "What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "Three."

"All right. There's time and there's a way. Run back to my room and get 
two or three pairs of my nylons."

Danny scowled, perplexed, then shrugged and turned. Helen smiled 
through her turmoil to note that he literally ran. In a moment, he was 
back with a handful of her stockings. He still showed no sign of 
understanding.

"I don't get it, Mom."

"I know. The problem is my being able to stay in one place so you can 
keep at a spot long enough to find out what it does."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"There's only one way to be sure of that. Tie me in the right 
position."

His eyes widened and he stared at her incredulously. "Tie you!"

"It's all right. It won't hurt me, and you can go at whatever speed 
turns out to be right. But you'll have to realize I'm going to act 
differently from what you've ever seen me do before."

"Okay. How shall I tie you?"

"Better get my hands out of the way, for one thing." She extended her 
arms as if she meant for him to spread-eagle her.

Danny quickly lashed her wrists, securing the stockings from each to 
one of the table legs. She trembled.

"We'll want to finish before five forty-five," she reminded him. "I 
want to be presentable by the time your father gets home."

He stared at her. "That's a long time!"

"A lot more than you need. I just don't want you to get preoccupied and 
forget what time it's getting to be."

"Okay!" There was awe in his tone. "Gee! I can really take my time!" He 
looked hungrily at her breasts and she winced. "What next? I've got 
your hands."

"Well, I'd certainly try to clamp my legs together."

"Oh! Okay!" He knotted a stocking around each of her thighs, at the 
knee, and fastened the loose ends to the table legs, spreading her 
crotch tautly. Without consulting her, he then used a third pair of her 
nylons, looping them on her ankles, and to her amazement, running the 
free ends to her shoulders, where he tied each to an upper arm, pulling 
her heels against the sides of her buttocks.

"Danny! My goodness!"

"Well, that'll keep you from moving your knees much."

She laughed shakily. "I can move my feet, though."

"How?"

She raised her feet and realized that there wasn't enough length in the 
hose to let her move them more than a few inches. "I take it back," she 
mumbled. "They aren't going anywhere."

"Do you mind if I talk to myself once in a while?" her son asked.

"No."

"What if I forget and use the wrong word?"

"There are no 'wrong words', Danny," she reassured him. "Only words 
that are more appropriate at one time than another. Don't worry about 
it. Just concentrate on one thing at a time."

He grinned and came to her side. "I know this isn't going to seem 
right, Mom, but Mr. Duffy said the lips were the first zone."

"Mmph! Well, all right."

He took her face between his hands and bent close, touching her lips 
with his. The first contact was light and dry, no more erotic that 
their customary goodnight kiss. But his lips worked on her and the 
pressure increased and their mouths got wet. Her son's kiss was 
transformed by some alchemy she made no effort to understand to that of 
a lover. Warmth seeped through her and she let her lips part, touching 
his with her tongue tip. His tongue darted out to meet hers and then 
drove into her mouth. She gulped and began to suck. 'Like a symbol for 
a penis!' she thought. 'Even if it is just his tongue in my mouth, he's 
got part of him inside me! My own son!' The conscious admission at a 
moment when sexual desire was making her writhe horrified her. She 
tugged at the nylons and whimpered in her throat. She was writhing 
sensually by the time Danny raised his mouth from hers.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "That works!" He flushed. "On me, too."

She glanced at his trouser front and saw that it was tented.

'He's got a beautiful cock,' she thought. 'I know he has! It was 
beautiful when he was little.' Pride surged in her and she had an 
irresistible longing to see what kind of a man her son was becoming.

"Danny, did Mr. Duffy say anything about visual stimulus?"

"Yeah. He said men got a lot more excited looking at things than most 
women."

"That's true, I think. When a man's doing things to her, though, seeing 
his body stimulates her."

"Yeah? It does? Hey, okay if I get undressed, then?"

"Yes." She tried to shake off the guilty feeling that washed over her.

Danny shed his clothes with adolescent awkwardness. She studied his 
body. He had fine shoulders, as she already knew, and his belly was 
flat and hard, more like a man's than a boy's. His hips were narrow and 
taut looking and his cock stood proud and thick. Circumcised (because 
the doctor had spoken of cleaning problems and the danger of 
infections), the head was a great, meaty bulb, nearly black with its 
charge of trapped blood. The shaft was frightening for its diameter; 
she guessed it was considerably thicker than her wrist and knew it was 
far bigger than either Art's or Barry's.

That's his Indian half, she thought with a thrill of pride. But God, 
could a woman really take that!

Danny returned and bent over her again. When he did his cock rested on 
the edge of the table, rigid and hard-looking. He played with her 
breasts, squeezing them gently, massaging them, and experimenting with 
her nipples. She had no idea how much of her resulting excitement 
resulted from his manipulations and how much from her painful awareness 
of the situation. Regardless, desire flamed in her and she lashed about 
on the table, her hips rocking from side to side and her pussy pulsing 
with eagerness.

Danny ran his hands over her body, fingering her curves with a smile on 
his lips. "Duffy says there's lots of secondary centers all over the 
body," he remarked. "Someday I'll learn more about them on you. Right 
now, I want to be sure I see what the primary ones do." He went back to 
her crotch.

He caressed her pussy lips gently, the light touch shooting fierce 
waves of pleasure through her and producing vigorous undulations in her 
hips.

She moaned happily. "Oooh, that feels good, Son! Mmmm!"

He ran a fingertip around the rim of her opening and she grabbed a taut 
stocking in each hand and pulled furiously.

"Oh!... " she gasped. "Oh, Danny!"

His fingers left her for an instant, and then she felt them stripping 
back the hood of her clitoris.

"Mmmm!" She bucked violently. "Aghhh!"

He coated the tiny organ with thick juice from her vagina and began to 
rub it. She lost all control of her actions, thrashing in her bonds and 
moaning loudly. The pleasure that flooded her was so intense it hurt, 
and a vast hunger grew in the mouth of her pussy. While Danny continued 
to massage her clitoris with the finger of one hand, those of the other 
hand returned to her labia.

"Don't get mad, Mom, but... Well, this was one of the centers." He 
slipped a finger up into her, twisting it back and forth and jabbing it 
in and out.

"Ohhh!... Ahhh!... I'm not... mad!... It is one!... Oh, Danny!... 
Son!... Ram it hard!"

He jammed the finger in to it's knuckle.

"Use... use two!... Maybe three!... Omigod, Son!... Ooooh!...

She felt a great increase in fullness and knew Danny had inserted more 
fingers. She slammed herself onto his hand repeatedly, her pleasure 
driving her past caring how she looked to him. She became aware of 
slippery strokes over her rectum.

"What's... that?" she panted.

"My thumb, Mom."

"Oh."

His thumb paused over her tightly closed anus and pushed. She felt her 
sphincter stretching to admit it and tilted her head back.

"DANNY!... AGHHH!... " She cried out and let her ass flail on the 
hugeness of his buried thumb. "My God, Son! Omigod!"

"I got stuff up your vagina and your ass, Mom." His voice sounded horse 
to her. "It sure makes you move around!"

"God, yes! It's going to make me have an orgasm!"

"Yeah? Really?"

"MMM!... Yes!... "

"Mom, he said the biggest stimulus of all was... well... "

She gazed groggily at her son. He stood erect, both hands hidden behind 
the forest of pubic her hair, his enormous cock jutting over her. The 
shaft pulsed and there was a strand of clear mucus dangling from the 
slit in the angry-looking head. His pubic hair was black and thick and 
she recalled with a shiver the great size of his balls. Suddenly she 
realized what he was hinting.

"No, Danny! Not that! No, for God's sake!" But why not? she asked 
herself in a flash of recklessness. Why not? That's part of it! "All 
right, Danny! He's right!" she conceded. "Go ahead!"

Danny trembled violently as he withdrew his hands. He seized the huge 
shaft and guided the head down to her cuntmouth. His face expressed 
wonder as his heat and hers mingled and she began to open to his 
pressure. She felt the head sink through the firm rim of her labia and 
glide slowly up the length of her vagina, that hard shaft stroking 
inward after it.

She thrust herself onto the intruding prick, her buttocks quivering and 
tight and her belly hard.

"Ahhh!" She bubbled with joy. "Ahhh!"

At her first movement her son's hips surged forward to drive his prick 
to its limit in her and his pelvic bone slammed onto the outer flesh of 
her pussy. He jerked his hips back, withdrawing the buried cock until 
the head lay just inside her labia, then rammed it home again. She 
cried out and flung herself onto the driving prick. Her son's thrusts 
accelerated and he banged violently at her.

"Mom! Mom! I can't stop!" A deep note of panic rang in his voice and he 
had an anguished expression on his face. "Mom! I didn't mean to! I just 
wanted to see what it did to you! I didn't mean to fuck you all the 
way!"

She saw the depth of his distress and urged him. She soothed him with a 
gentle urgency. "It's all right, darling! It's all right! Fuck me, 
darling! Go ahead and fuck me! It's all right, Son!"

His cock slammed back and forth savagely and her cunt flamed. She felt 
as if the shaft were crushing her tissues against the bony circle of 
her pelvis and his cockhead were displacing all her organs. His anguish 
had cleared, replaced by ecstasy, and his hands kneaded her waist and 
pulled her buttocks against his thighs.

"Yes, yes, darling!" she panted.

"Mom! I'm gonna...

"It's okay, honey. Let it happen."

"Mom!... Mom!...," he croaked with excitement. Then, with a note of 
triumph, "Here it comes!... Unnnh!... "

His cock shaft pulsed sharply and hot jism seethed into her vagina, 
filling her belly with foreign heat. She clamped the rim of her cunt on 
his cock, squeezing with hard contractions and praying for her own 
orgasm. Danny broke into convulsive tremors and the great cock went 
limp and soft. He pulled it out instantly, great drops of sweat pouring 
from him.

"Mom!" he murmured brokenly and came around the table to hold her face. 
"Oh, Mom, I'm sorry!"

"Danny, baby," she whispered. "Oh, Danny! How did it feel, Son?"

"Jesus, Mom! Like nothing I ever felt before!" He grinned bashfully. 
"You got awful excited, didn't you."

I still am! she thought. She nodded and smiled. "You found all the 
spots, Son. There's still a lot to learn, though."

"There is?"

"Yes. Maybe I'd better teach you while all this is fresh in your mind."

"Would you, Mom?"

"Yes. You might as well untie me now."

"You know? That was kind of fun. Having you tied up, I mean. I like 
that."

"Well, maybe I'll let you do it again sometime."

"Oh, Mom! Would you! Please?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

She laughed and hard thrill raced through her. "I promise."

"Wow!" Danny shouted.

He untied her quickly, and she went back to the bathroom, where she 
douched and washed. As an afterthought, she sprayed herself with her 
best cologne. When she returned to the front of the house, Danny was 
sprawled in an armchair in the living room. He glanced up at her entry, 
astounded at her continued nakedness.

"Time for more of the lesson," she said with mock formality.

"What are you going to teach me now?"

"Let's demonstrate instead of talk. Okay?"

"Sure."

She stretched herself along his body, straddling one of his thighs to 
let its hardness ease the hunger of her pussy and putting her arms 
around him. "Kiss me again, Son."

Their lips locked and her tongue probed for his. He explored her throat 
with his tongue tip and she writhed on him, her breasts scrubbing the 
sparse hair on his chest, her cunt grinding on his thigh. When she drew 
back to look at his face through a film of happy tears, she knew he was 
no longer fooled by the academic pretense.

When he spoke, his voice had a tone of new maturity. "Mom," he said 
very softly. "You just want to fuck with me, don't you."

She cringed. "Yes," she whispered. "I didn't until it happened, but I 
do now. Besides, there really are a lot of things you don't know yet."

"Yeah." He kneaded her ass and sighed. "I've dreamed I was fucking you 
lots of times. It never did turn out like today." A faraway look of 
bliss stole into his eyes. "Never wild like that was, Mom the second I 
stuck my cock into you I knew I couldn't stop. I knew I had to go all 
the way!"

"I know."

The telephone rang. Helen groaned and scrambled off her son. "Why don't 
you get it, honey? You've got to get your blood circulating again."

"Okay," he grinned, laying a hand on her belly for a moment before 
leaving her. In a moment, he was back. "Dad," he said. "Says there's an 
emergency meeting of the State highway engineers tonight. He called to 
say he'll be home the middle of tomorrow morning."

"Oh, dear!" she wailed.

Danny grinned. "Hey, Mom! We can play a lot! Okay?"

She realized how such a suggestion would have horrified her two hours 
earlier. "A regular orgy, you mean," she said dryly.

Danny grinned and ducked his head. "I guess so. All kinds of games."

"Yes. I guess we can do that."

"Wow! Gee, thanks, Mom!" He grabbed her, pulling her to him and rubbing 
his body against her breasts. He slid his hand down her side to her 
hip, then around between her thighs to clutch at her pussy. She 
squirmed, but his other arm was like a bar across the small of her 
back, and he dug his fingers deeply into her, raising her feet from the 
floor. "This is fun, Mom! I like playing with you like this!"

Savage lust roared in her and she clung to him. "I like it too!" she 
said in a strangled tone.

"Hey, Mom, is it true animals and people fuck sometimes?"

"Danny! How should I know?"

"I mean, would it be possible?"

The pressure of his hand in her vagina burned wariness out of her. "Why 
not. Male animals have penises and get erections, just like men do. 
Females have.. vaginas."

"Yeah, I guess so. I heard someone talking about it. Mom?... "

"Yes?"

"Mom, I'd sure like to see that once."

"Ugh! I don't know where you'd find an animal that would do it!"

"I mean a male animal and a woman."

"That's even more unlikely! You'd never find a woman who'd do that for 
you!" She sighed and pressed her thighs together on his hand, then 
grinned broadly. "Other women aren't going to do weird things for you 
like I am."

"But you would, wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"You'd let an animal fuck you so I could see how it worked, wouldn't 
you?"

"Danny!"

"Wouldn't you, Mom? Just for me?"

That was a safe commitment, she decided. She'd never have to honor it. 
He never would find an animal trained that way. "Yes. I guess I would, 
Son. I'm afraid you'd have a hard time finding an animal that 
accommodating, though."

"No, Mom! I don't think so!"

She laughed contentedly and hugged him. 'Let him have his fantasies,' 
she thought. 'Tonight, I've got him.'

"Smokey, Mom!" Danny set her on her feet, his hand still firmly locked 
in her cunt.

She leaned back and gazed into his earnest eyes, shaking her head. 
"Smokey wouldn't touch a woman, Son. He doesn't know anything about 
those things. Why, he's never even had a lady donkey!"

"He knows all about hard-ons," Danny insisted. "He's been going around 
with one half the time this week."

"He has? I didn't notice."

"That's because you don't see him often.'

"Having an erection isn't having sex with a woman, Son. I'm afraid that 
just isn't practical."

"We could at least try!" He sounded irritated and hurt. "You just don't 
want to. You just said you would without meaning it."

"Danny, I meant it!" 'Damn it, I really didn't! But I'm not going to 
admit that. Besides, what's the harm in trying? Smokey's not going to 
do anything but try to hide.'

"Okay! Come on, then!" Her son pulled his hand out of her throbbing 
pussy and dragged her toward the back of the house. "Let's try, Mom. 
Just once."

"It's broad daylight, Danny! We can't go out naked like this!"

"Nobody can see us! Not the way you and Dad have the place screened 
off!"

Convincing or not, he was stronger than she. He gripped her wrist 
firmly and dragged her with him. They crossed the yard and ducked 
through the hedge into Smokey's compound. Danny led her into the 
donkey's corral.

"You better use the feed table," he said.

Helen hesitated, surveying the table her husband had insisted on to 
keep the hay off the ground. It did look the right height, coming 
almost exactly to the level of the furry little beast's belly. At the 
moment there was a thick layer of sweet smelling hay on it and Smokey 
was wandering about disconsolately, his cock projecting from its 
sheath, rigid and angry red.

"Good heavens! I see what you mean about erections!" she exclaimed.

Danny urged her across the corral to the feed table. "Just bend over 
it, I guess." he said.

Reluctantly she bent forward and lay on her belly on the table, her 
feet on the pulverized ground. The hay pricked her flesh, but it 
smelled so sweet and provided such a pleasant cushion she didn't 
object. Danny began to tie a tag end of frayed rope around her left 
wrist.

"Danny! What's the big idea?"

He smiled apologetically. "He's going to have enough to get used to 
without worrying about where you're going. You said so yourself in the 
dining room."

"Oh, all right." She knew it gave her son an enormous erotic thrill to 
see her helpless, and it wasn't going to hurt her. She let him knot the 
loops around both wrists and waited to see how he meant to position 
her. He pulled her forward on the table until her breasts cleared the 
forward edge and her thighs pressed against the opposite side. 'I don't 
know why we call it a table,' she thought, 'squirming uncomfortably. 
It's nothing but a two-by-twelve.'

Danny groaned. "You can't do it like that," he said. "That's no good." 
And then, excitedly, "I know. Mom! Wait!" He raced to the shelter and 
brought back the tattered old saddle. Helping his mother to her feet, 
he flung the saddle onto the table, where it appeared to fit as well as 
it did on Smokey. "Now! Lie over that!"

She lowered her belly onto the saddle, lying precariously across it. 
Danny tied loops to her ankles, ignoring her hands, and pulled her legs 
apart to an impossible angle, securing her feet to the table supports. 
Grasping her waist, he slid her forward so the saddle was under her 
hips and lower belly, her torso hanging over the other side and her ass 
in the air. She struggled, but he seized the rope fragments that 
dangled from her wrists and quickly lashed her wrists to her ankles.

"My God, Danny! Not this way!" She tried to imagine how her cunt must 
be gaping.

"Mom! This is the greatest! Wow, what a playground!" He ran his hand 
over her back and onto her ass. "You'd make a great toy!"

"Oh, sure!" She stared at the way her hair swept the ground, shimmering 
auburn strands brushing dung-rich, dark earth, and looked past her legs 
at Smokey, still shuffling around the corral with his engorged hard-on 
bobbing. 'It's a good thing he's not going to know what to do,' she 
thought with a shudder. 'That thing's so big it would split me right 
down the middle! But God, how it would feel going in!'

Danny acted as if he'd momentarily forgotten the donkey. He squatted at 
her head, reaching around her with both hands to fondle her breasts. "I 
like the way your tits hang when you're like this, Mom." He chuckled 
suddenly. "I think I'll milk you!" He repositioned his fingers and 
began to milk, using the technique he'd briefly practiced at a goat 
farm his school class had visited.

Helen cried out in a burst of excitement. The strange, rolling pressure 
made her boobs feel as if they were swelling, and her nipples stretched 
to generate a wild kind of sensation throughout her body. She felt a 
rush of heat into the dangling tips of her breasts, precisely as if 
there were milk rushing to be squirted out.

"Danny! My God, Danny baby! You're making an animal out of me!" Her 
snatch throbbed and fingers of fiery excitement raced over her. "Oh, 
Son!"

He continued to milk her until she was thrashing violently on the 
saddle, the ropes biting viciously into her wrists and ankles. She knew 
nothing had ever produced even a similar sensation in her breasts. 
"Ohhhh!... Danny, you could make me cum doing that!"

"Yeah? You really mean that? Hey, I'm going to, sometime! Know what? I 
haven't seen you cum yet!"

"No," she gasped, sensing she was nearer an orgasm than at any previous 
time during the day.

"Mom, a woman can cum one time right after another, can't she?"

"Well... " she hesitated. "Sometimes."

"Bitchin'! How many times?"

"I don't know." The sensation in her breasts had spread until her whole 
body felt as if it were being milked. She threw her head up and 
clenched her teeth, feeling a great churning in her belly. Her head 
roared and spots danced before her eyes. She would cum now if she 
weren't careful. She dropped her head and tilted it to watch her son's 
hands. The sight of the strong fingers rolling the flesh of her breasts 
and crushing her quivering nipples sent a powerful mental stimulus 
through her. She strained her buttocks apart, then clamped them. A 
fierce contraction snapped her cuntmouth and raced inward along her 
barrel, with another and another behind it. She went rigid, forcing her 
limbs straight and arching her back. Her mouth opened wide, a deep, 
undulating groan pouring out. Tremors shook her and she knew only that 
she was lost in a sea of exquisite pleasure.

"Aghhhh!... Nnnng!... Danny, Danny, Danny!"

"Mom! MOM! You are! You're cumming! Jesus you're beautiful when you 
cum, Mom!"

Her contraction ceased and she fell limp, hanging breathlessly. Her son 
stroked her aching tits and ran his hands onto her belly. She felt 
something at her twat.

"Danny?" She struggled for air. "Danny, what's that at my crotch?"

"At your pussy, Mom? Hey! That's Smokey! He really digs the smell of 
pussy-juice!" Dan sprang to his feet and leaned over her.

She felt Smokey's wet nose rooting among her inflamed tissues and then 
something hot and rough stroking them.

"Mom! He's licking you! He acts like he's eating all that stuff!"

She shuddered and moaned, her diminishing passion bounding into full 
bloom again. Her hips rocked and she saw her hair swishing in the dirt. 
The broad tongue reached her cuntmouth and jabbed at it.

"Hey, Mom! Oh, Jesus! He's sticking his tongue down your cunt! Mom, 
he's going all the way in with it!"

The supple blade penetrated the length of her passage, snaking among 
the inner folds and scrubbing them. Her belly writhed and her ass 
leaped. She was in a frenzy, uncertain whether she was coming or not.

"Danny, baby! My God, he's eating me from the inside out!"

She felt the tongue leave her as quickly as it had entered.

"Boy, is he hot!" Danny exclaimed. "Mom, you ought to see the way he's 
humping! Just like he already had that cock in something! Hey! He's 
going to try!"

"OH, NO! No, Son! Don't let him!" She jerked at the ropes frantically. 
"Oh, please!"

"Mom, that's what we're out here for! Mom, he is! He's going to fuck 
you!"

Her vagina puckered with her sudden fright. Looking under the wide, 
inverted vee of her legs she could see the agitated donkey. His cock 
looked more formidable than before, and while she stared in 
fascination, she saw him rear on his hind legs and prance toward her. 
She bit her lips and waited.

"I won't let him put his hooves on you, Mom." Danny panted audibly and 
she guessed he was forcing the donkey's forefeet apart.

In a moment, she knew she was right. She felt the hard feet against her 
sides, slipping toward her chest. And she felt a great, hard point 
touch her twat, perfectly centered.

"You guided his penis, Danny," she said accusingly.

"Sure! Wouldn't want him in your ass, would you?"

The point jabbed repeatedly,

Art had a really good-sized cock that filled her deliciously. Barry was 
a little larger than Art, a really snug fit in her pussy. Danny's cock 
was huge, but Smokey's shaft was monstrous and she felt her cunt 
stretch impossibly to engulf it. A deep, joy-choked groan was wrenched 
from her as the giant cock sank home. It filled her belly and made her 
taste iron. Smokey scrambled with his forefeet and lodged them against 
projections on the saddle. She felt his cock pumping in her like a 
monstrous piston, and her lust rocketed.

"He is, he is!" she yelled. "Danny! He's fucking me!"

"Oh, Jesus, Mom! He must be stretching you inside! He's got almost his 
whole dong in!"

She was able to see that his belly was within an inch of her pussy. And 
she could see his balls swing with the force of his lunges as he jerked 
his cock back and then drove it deeper into her in a terrifying 
succession of strokes. She was half-hypnotized by the contrast between 
her smoothly tapered, pale thighs and the donkey's shaggy, grotesque 
legs. She held her breath while his black belly slammed closer and 
closer to her twat and suddenly she felt his impact in her outer flesh 
as well as the depths of her belly. His hair was wire-stiff, and it 
stabbed a thousand pinholes in her ass. His cock stretched her so wide 
there was no room for further distension or for her over-taut rim to 
adapt and lose the sharp edge of the entering sensation. She jerked at 
her wrist ropes in time to the donkey's brutal rhythm, humping her body 
to meet his great thrusts. And she flung her head from side to side, 
biting at her shoulders in a frenzy of lust.

Agonizing contractions seized her twat, tightening it on Smokey's 
surging prick so hard she thought she'd rupture. "Honey!" she shouted. 
"Darling! I'm coming again!" She stiffened, absorbing the donkey's 
blows without any possibility of defense. "I'm coming! Oh, God, am I 
coming! EEEYAGHHH!"

At the height of her orgasm, she knew her vaginal walls were milking 
the tremendous cock. She felt the donkey rest his weight on her ass, 
his cock driven full length in her and quivering mightily. There was a 
great eruption of heat at the core of her belly and she saw her flesh 
balloon with the charge.

"He's coming! He's coming!" shouted Danny. "Mom! You ought to see him! 
Like he won the grand prize! Oh, Mom! Both of you!"

Although already buried to the hilt the donkey humped against her again 
and again. And with each lunge a huge swoosh of his cum was forced out 
of her overloaded pussy. She watched the cum dribble down her thighs 
and run down his swinging balls to be flicked off as he lunged again.

The donkey sagged on her and she collapsed over the saddle, helpless to 
extricate herself or expel the prick that impaled her. She felt giddy 
and weak, but she was conscious of a perverse pride in the fact that 
she'd been able to take the donkey's cock. She was strangely self-
satisfied, too, that she'd been able to accept him well enough to react 
and to reach a climax. That she'd been good enough to make him come was 
her crowing achievement.

"Oh, Mom! That was something I'll never forget! I wish I'd had the 
video camera out here!"

"Danny Fredericson! Danny! You don't wish any such thing! You mention 
that camera again and you never will get to tie me up!"

"Aw, Mom!"

"I don't care! Just think what would happen if someone saw a movie of 
this!"

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, Mom, Smokey's getting ready to get off!" "You 
help him. I don't want him kicking me." There was an intense struggle. 
The donkey's cock hadn't shrunk sufficiently to come out without 
considerable tugging and his balance was poor. But with Danny's help 
Smokey was finally able to dismount Helen. She sighed deeply and let 
herself relax again.

"Now you can get me off here," she told Danny.

"Aw, Mom! Not yet."

"Now, son."

"Naw, I've just got to do something. I'm ready to explode!"

"Danny!" she raged.

But she felt his hands on her buttocks, caressing them gently and 
squeezing them from time to time. She was furious at herself when she 
discovered herself humping with pleasure. It was bad enough to be 
defiled; it was inexcusable to respond this way to her son's defiance. 
She made a sound that was half laugh and half sob.

"Goddamn it, honey! You're terrible!"

Danny laughed sympathetically. "I can't help it, Mom! Seeing you like 
this I can't help myself. Know what? I'm going to fuck you before I let 
you loose!"

"Oh, Danny! Not like this!"

"Like this." His fingers dipped into her twat and prodded the swollen 
lips of her pussy. He dragged his hands between her buttocks and thrust 
them repeatedly into her ass. She bounced with helpless desire. She 
knew she wanted him in her, no matter how grotesque her position.

"Danny?"

"Huh?"

"I want you to. I want you to, Son!"

He said, "This is going to be something else!"

She watched his feet as he stepped into the table, straddling her. He 
squatted and she supposed he was trying to decide how to make his cock 
point the right direction. He removed her speculation.

"I've got to work at it this time." He panted. "What I'm doing is 
bending my cock down so I can poke it in you. Almost right. There!"

She felt his bulb at her rectum.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass, Mom."

"No you're not, Danny! Danny! No! Don't... UNNNH!... Omigod, Danny!"

His cock had forced her sphincter until the great head had surged 
through. Now there seemed to be no end to the shaft as it plunged into 
her gut. She felt his balls press against his pussy and the bristles of 
his pubic hair mat around her tortured asshole. He began to stroke.

"Dan, Dan!" she groaned. "Oh, Dan, I'm awful! I love it!"

"God you're tight, Mom! Oh, God, Mom! I'm going to come just as fast as 
I did when you were on the table!"

He bounced on her ass, driving the breath from her in deep grunts and 
arousing her to a wild pitch of passion. She felt his fingers bite into 
her waist and his balls knock against her cunt. And suddenly he stopped 
bouncing.

"Ohhh!" he moaned as if in pain.

"Son! Danny! Are you all right?"

"It's coming out! Mom, I'm coming!" He settled on her and she felt a 
brutal force on her ass. She saw his feet leave the ground and extend 
behind her. She knew he was balancing his entire weight on the base of 
his cock while he spewed his jism into her intestine.

"Ahhh... " She sighed with pleasure, feeling every subtlety of his 
actions. She decide there might be an advantage not to reach her orgasm 
every time; climactic sensations could mask the finer details of her 
partner's cumming. She felt her son's cock swell with abrupt jerks as 
the heat spurted from it, and his balls twitched upward through her 
pubic hair and over her labia with each spurt. She heard his labored 
breathing and its rasping irregularity. And her gut filled for the 
second time in that position with a pool of hot cum. Dan rocked for a 
time before his body began to loosen. At last, he pushed himself off 
her and stood on the ground.

"Honey," she said, her voice muffled. "Get me down now, before Smokey 
decides to come back for seconds."

Danny laughed nervously. "Mom, if I thought he would, I'd keep you 
right where you are."

"DANNY!"

"Aw, don't worry. He won't. He's had it." Danny untied her arms first, 
and when he loosened the second ankle, she slid headfirst into the 
dirt. She lay in a heap waiting for her circulation to return, and 
Danny crouched beside her, massaging her limbs.

When the agony of renewed circulation subsided, she let him help her to 
her feet. "Come on back in the house, Son," she urged.

"Okay."

In the house, she realized it was past five. Danny seemed reluctant to 
take time out for supper, but she insisted.

"We'll both need all our strength," she suggested. "That is, unless 
you've had enough."

"We don't have to quit, do we Mom? We can fuck some more after supper, 
can't we?"

"Yes."

"All night, maybe?"

She laughed. "We'll see."

"That means you don't think we will."

"Honey, you're welcome to try as long as you can hold out. I promise."

Danny objected to her dressing for supper. He showed no reluctance to 
putting his own clothes on, but he wanted her to remain nude.

"Honey, I'm not going to work in the kitchen naked. That's all there is 
to it."

"Aw, Mom! Well, at least you don't have to wear anything but pants and 
bra."

"Well... " She giggled at his determination. "All right, hon. We'll 
compromise."

"I'll go get them for you."

"Oh, all right." She waited, relieved to be alone for a few moments. It 
was a shock to discover how much desire still burned in her. She 
realized she was eager for her son to return - that she fiercely wanted 
him to stare at her naked body again.

When Dan came back with her panties and bra, he took her in his arms 
before giving them to her. He kissed her tenderly, then turned her so 
her side was against him and ran his hand lovingly over her front. She 
thrust out her belly and squirmed at the feel of his fingers. He 
caressed her tits and rubbed her belly. And when his hand slid over her 
pubic hair and between her thighs she thrust her knees apart and ground 
her hips in circles.

"Good," she whispered. "Oh, but I like that, Son!"

He released her at last after he had her quivering and mumbling to 
herself. She took the wispy garments from him and laughed.

"How did you know I had these? Why, I've never had them on!"

He grinned as she held up the panties. "I was looking for the ones with 
the least material," he admitted. "Those were at the back of the 
drawer, that's all."

"They're hardly pants at all, Danny!"

"But they are, and I brought them. So that's what you wear. You 
promised."

"Your father ordered them out of a catalog," she said. "And he was 
furious when I wouldn't wear them!" She laid the bra aside and stepped 
into the panties. They did fit, although they were snug. But as she 
pulled them up her thighs she discovered a feature she hadn't noticed 
before; there was a long slit in the crotch. "Oh, Christ!" she 
exploded.

"Now what?" Danny asked.

"Never mind!" She snugged the panties on her hips, shuddering at the 
effect. Even Danny appeared to be shaken, she noticed.

The panties crossed her belly so low that a handful of pubic hair lay 
exposed above them. The rest of her dark red thatch protruded through 
the loose net. And the crotch hugged the lips of her pussy without a 
thread to spare. Four inches at either hip was simply a narrow strip of 
elastic. She instinctively placed her hand over her twat.

"What was it you said 'oh, Christ!' about?" asked Danny. "Come on, Mom, 
tell me!"

"Oh, all right. There's a big long slit in the crotch."

"Hey! You mean they're made for screwing? You can get screwed without 
even taking them off?"

She nodded. "Honestly!"

"Hey, let me see, Mom! Huh?"

"For heaven's sake! No!"

"Aw, please! Please?"

"After supper, I guess."

"Well, okay I guess. But I can feel." He grabbed her before she 
realized his intention and pinned her arms behind her. Dragging her 
arms back and down, he forced her to bend her knees and spread them, 
and he thrust a finger through the slit and into her cunt.

Helen writhed on his finger, supper forgotten. 'God, I'm hot!' she 
thought. 'I'm ready to explode the instant he touches me!' But her son 
released her, caressing one of her tits for a moment before stepping 
back.

She panted, standing motionless, then reached for the bra. "This is 
just as bad," she muttered. She put it on, the half-cups lifting her 
boobs and making the upper slopes bulge while her nipples stood in the 
open.

"Man, that looks great! I thought that's what that thing was!" Dan 
leered at her.

"You're impossible!" she exclaimed. "I raised a sex fiend!"

"Mom, let's eat quick. You were going to teach me some more, and then 
we took time out for Smokey. I'm awful anxious."

She glanced respectfully at his erect young cock. "You look like it. 
All right, we'll hurry."

She found it impossible to know what they were eating when they finally 
sat down. She was too keenly aware of her near nakedness and Danny's 
frank concentration on her puckered nipples. Her pussy twitched 
incessantly and she could feel the wetness that had soaked the crotch 
of her panties. Her son wolfed his food, clearly paying as little 
attention to it as she. He spoke only once during the meal.

"You know, Mom? That sister of Vanessa's. I hate her. She's a snob. But 
I bet she fucks great! If I had my druthers, though, I'd like to spend 
a day with Vanessa like this one with you."

"Watch it, Dan. What we're doing today is fun. I like it. But it's 
still teaching, not a way to get you started making out with every 
woman you meet."

"But we're not going to stop just as soon as we're through learning, 
are we? Are we, Mom?"

She laughed. "I don't know. The way I feel right now, we could keep 
going forever. But I think I've gone a little crazy. It's going to 
depend."

"On what?"

"On things that wouldn't even occur to us now." Dan finished his food 
and carried the dishes to the kitchen.. He came back and surveyed her 
plate. "You going to eat the rest of that?"

She hesitated. "No. I've had enough."

"Okay." He snatched her dishes from the table and disappeared with 
them. He returned while Helen was still pushing her chair back.

She rose, aware of the fact that her son was hovering over her. He 
seized her and swung her from the floor.

"Danny! What... ?"

He sat her on the edge of the table and pushed her onto her back.

"Danny! Stop it! What's going on?"

He forced her knees apart and elevated them. "I'm going to look at 
those pants. You said I could after supper.

"Good God!" she exclaimed.

He placed her feet against his shoulders and leaned over her, pressing 
her knees back to her chest. He felt the crotch of her panties, pulling 
the slit open with his thumbs and inserting both thumbs immediately 
into her pussy. She gasped and her feet slid over his shoulders. He 
grasped her hips and held them still, thrusting his cock against her. 
She twisted, but with a single smooth surge, he drove his cock fully 
into her, its base slamming solidly on her pussy.

"Ahhh!" she whispered. "Danny... oh, Danny... why does it make me want 
you so much when you do this?"

He shook his head. "Am I supposed to know?"

"Of course not! Just fuck me, baby!"

"I already know about that. Is there something I don't know about?"

"A lot, I suppose. All right. Pull it out while I can still think."

As Danny pulled out and backed away, lowering her legs, he drew her 
panties off. She sat up and removed the bra.

"Ready," she said.

"Can we do it in my room, Mom?" he smiled uncertainly.

"Yes. I guess so."

She followed him into his room, where she paused to reminisce for a 
moment. The shelves Art had put up for her son's model airplanes were 
still loaded with the dusty little relics. Dan's baseball bats stood in 
one corner, neglected for the past four years, and his splintered 
hockey sticks leaned in another. Those were idle only because they were 
too worn to use, she thought. It was probably a typical boy's room, 
littered with the accouterments of growing up, including yesterday's 
laundry scattered across the floor. Danny flung himself on his bed and 
stared at his mother, his gaze fixed on her pubic hair.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay," She approached the bed, eyeing his cock.

It lay at an angle on his belly, it's underside exposed. His pubic hair 
was still thin, but it curled tightly and was so black it looked like a 
solid mat. His balls lay in the though formed by his thighs, and the 
skin of his scrotum held them firmly. His cock was a dark cylinder 
against his coppery belly, and the head gleamed wetly, mute evidence of 
his readiness.

Helen felt a fierce pride in her son. She felt another emotion as she 
stood over him, and it drew her onto the narrow bed with him. She 
stretched out with her knees beside his head and rested her breasts on 
his belly. With one manicured fingertip, she stroked the shiny 
cockhead. The shaft twitched and his balls moved, pulled by a sudden 
tensing of the sac. She moved her finger in small circles on the bulge, 
feeling a tingle of excitement over the wet slipperiness. Her jaw ached 
and her mouth puckered.

'Damn it!' she thought. 'I watched Vanessa do it! I can do anything she 
can!' She lowered her head and touched her lips to the wetness. She 
held them there for a moment, then drew back. Closing her hand around 
the shaft of Danny's cock, she touched her lips with her tongue. The 
metallic flavor made her gasp with desire, and she thrust her mouth 
against the cockhead again. She kissed it avidly, her tongue darting 
between her lips repeatedly to savor the pungent coating on it.

Danny caught her near knee and drew her thigh across his chest, 
exposing her pussy to his gaze. She felt fingers force her labia and 
she undulated her hips with pleasure. But she pressed her lips harder 
on the firm cock. She slid her lips onto it, making a circle of them to 
gird it and suck at the seeping slit. Danny's balls jerked and he drew 
one foot toward his butt.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Mom, that feels bitchin'! Do you like to do it!"

"I want to right now, Danny." She quickly placed her mouth over the 
cockhead again. Opening her mouth widely, she forced it over the broad 
slopes and gulped the knob. Danny's shaft was too bulky to permit any 
but the slightest relaxation of her jaw, and she was worried that she 
might bite down. She sucked, swallowing occasionally to clear her 
throat of the slow trickle of liquid. She remembered the way Vanessa 
had stroked her lips up and down Art's shaft and tried to do the same 
for Danny. The nose of his cock bumped the back of her throat almost at 
once, and she resigned herself to sucking, her tongue probing 
continuously at the hot flesh.

Danny's hips rose and fell and his hand twisted about in her cunt. His 
trembling convinced Helen that her son was unlikely to let her prolong 
her experiment very much. She raised her head, letting the heavy bulb 
free.

"Danny, honey?"

"Mmph! Yeah?"

"Did that feel good? You want me to suck some more?"

"Wow! Yeah! Would you?"

"Yes. But we're going to change positions."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Move over."

Danny moved and Helen stretched out beside him on her back.

"Now get on your knees and straddle my head," she directed. When 
Danny's balls hung over her face, she spread her thighs widely. "Hands 
and knees," she said.

He dropped to all fours. His cock touched her throat, and she 
maneuvered it until she could get the head into her mouth again. She 
caressed his balls while she sucked on his cock, and he groaned 
happily.

"You're making me come," he said in a strained tone. "You mind that?"

'I want it!' she thought. 'That's exactly what I want!' She refused to 
release the previous mouthful; she merely sucked harder and caressed 
the tip with the back of her tongue.

Danny seized her hips, his hands circling them and settling under her 
buttocks. He lifted her ass and tilted her twat up, then grabbed her 
clitoris in his mouth. Her pleasure was intolerable. She lashed her 
feet and clutched at his ass. His belly quivered and he slid his knees 
apart, pushing down on his cock. There was a sudden spasm in his shaft 
and warm, thick jism flooded his mother's mouth. She gulped, 
frantically aware that the spurting cum was filling her faster than she 
could pump it to her stomach.

She dug her nails into his ass and stiffened. Her only movement was her 
sucking and frenzied swallowing and a slow undulation of her hips. She 
felt liquid escape at the corners of her mouth and groaned inwardly. 
'All of it!' she demanded silently of herself. 'Every drop, damn it!'

Her son shuddered and his cock began to soften. She drained it of the 
last thread of semen and let him lift it from her. Her own orgasm spent 
itself and she sagged limply.

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"Sleep in here with me tonight. Okay?"

"The bed's narrow. Why not my room?"

"Because this is my room."

She understood. "All right, Son."

Dan insisted on their sharing a shower before they slept. Helen agreed, 
feeling a trace of guilt that it would be a first for her: she'd 
consistently refused to shower with Art. They stood belly to belly 
while the water soaked them and Helen felt her fatigue draining from 
her. Danny soaped and washed her, let her rinse under the stinging 
spray, and soaped her again. With lather thick on both of them, he 
began to rub himself against her.

Helen gasped. The sensation was utterly strange to her. The 
frictionless contact of their bellies and of his hands on her buttocks 
sent tingles racing over her and made her pant. She thrust herself 
against her son in a new rush of desire, and she caught his thigh 
between hers and rubbed her pussy on him. His cock stiffened against 
her belly. His arms went around her waist and she clung to his neck, 
her boobs swishing on his chest. He lifted her, letting his cock slide 
between her thighs while she swung her feet up to wrap her legs around 
his hips. Without quite knowing how it happened, she found herself 
sliding onto his shaft, his cockhead already implanted in her. He 
bounced her on his prick and thrust his finger up her rectum, laughing 
with delight when she clamped her thighs on his waist and leaned back.

At the height of their jostling, he stepped under the spray with her 
and let it sluice away the soap. "Hey! This is way out, Mom!"

"Oooh, Danny! I liked it with the soap all over us!"

"Yeah! This is wild!"

"Why did you rinse it off?"

"We're making it too fast. I wanted to play for awhile." He grinned. 
"You're more fun to play with when you're all excited, Mom."

"Danny!"

He lifted her off his dick and sat her on her feet. Turning the shower 
off, he reached out for towels and patted the water from their bodies. 
He stepped out with her, then, and scrubbed her vigorously with the 
towel.

'He's right,' she decided, panting. 'I'll let him do anything to me 
while I'm excited.' She spread her thighs while his fingers probed 
between her hot labia. "Ohhh, baby! Oh, precious!" she crooned.

Danny picked her up and carried her to his room. He spread-eagled her 
on his bed, tying her and chuckling happily to himself. He produced an 
electric vibrator and began to play it over her breasts, rolling its 
base against their lower bulges until she squirmed with pleasure, then 
applying its tip alternately to each of her nipples. She writhed and 
babbled. He pulled the tip of the vibrator across her belly and slid it 
between her legs while wild surges of excitement slammed through her. 
When he laid it on her clitoris the universe exploded for her. She 
arched her back to drive her ass into the mattress, then bowed the 
opposite way to elevate her pussy. There was no way to evade the insane 
stimulus. Desire welled in her cunt and flowed outward along her fibers 
until she was frantic with delight. The convulsive spasms of orgasm 
rolled over her in a succession that made the room turn black.

She heard someone screaming and only slowly realized by the sensation 
in her throat that it was she. Her cunt flamed and her body burned with 
sympathetic fury. When her spasms finally began to subside, her son lay 
aside the vibrator and brought his hands to her crotch in its place. 
She slowly regained her vision and started to discern between the 
individual touches that kept her from sliding out of her passion.

Danny climbed between her thighs and nestled his cockhead between her 
labia. He pressed it home, expanding her rim and sinking his shaft into 
her belly. His hips surged and the crazy explosion happened again. 
Helen twisted her head and bit her lip, her knees jerking and her boobs 
flopping. She moaned happily, a hazy notion growing that she could 
remain indefinitely in her orgasm.

But the hot welling of semen at her core released her after a final, 
wild thrashing, and her son's dick began to wilt. Afterward, they clung 
to each other and slept. More than once during the night, Danny 
awakened Helen and she yielded herself to his resurgent demands. And in 
the morning, after they'd both gone into the bathroom and returned 
eagerly to the bed, she straddled him and lowered herself onto his 
waiting cock for an exhilarating ride. She felt as if all the desire of 
the previous fifteen hours was concentrated in that single flurry of 
lust, and her climax left her so weak she toppled from her son and lay 
paralyzed until he could rub life back into her.

Danny objected to going to school. "No!" he yelled at her. "It'll be 
hours before Dad gets home! That's time for all kinds of games!"

"Dan Fredericson, you're going to school! We've both had enough for one 
session!"

He shook his head, childish stubbornness clear in his features. "Mom! 
You spoil everything!"

"I didn't notice you complaining about my spoiling things last night!"

"Oh, that was different! I mean making me go to school when you're 
right here!"

"Well that's too bad. Maybe I need a rest. Now get ready, before I get 
mad!"

He grumbled and kicked at each chair he passed, but he got ready for 
school. When she went to the door with him, he paused as if for her 
customary "goodbye" peck. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, her hands 
resting against his chest, and he gathered her to him. He grabbed one 
of her breasts, massaging it eagerly, then pulled up her skirt and 
thrust his hand inside her panties and dug his fingers into her cunt. 
She squirmed wildly but without success, and when Danny withdrew his 
hand and opened the door, she was a quivering mass of confusion. She 
blew him a kiss and muttered, angry at herself for losing control of 
the situation and at her son for his impudence.

She raced through the most urgent of her housekeeping chores, her 
thoughts far from domestic routine. Danny's hasty feeling-up had 
thoroughly aroused her, and she was angrily conscious of the fact that 
it would be hours before Art got home. She argued with herself.

"You've really made it," she said. "All the way. When a woman turns her 
own son into a cunt-crazy machine, she's hit the bottom!" She gazed 
through the window. 'Oh, God, Helen! Just what have you done? What's 
going to happen?' she shuddered.

She drained the sink and dried her hands. Pulsing with raw sexual 
desire and seething with self-contempt she rushed from the house. 'And 
what's the big fuss?' she asked herself. 'You were afraid you were 
going to lose your husband? You did what had to be done, didn't you?' 
Sinking to her knees before a rich-blooming rose, she inhaled its 
sweetness. "Oh, God!" 'Did I? How can the things I've done possibly 
give me the happiness of a secure home? And yet Art wants physical 
woman! He's got to have someone who goes wild with sex hunger with him! 
And if I'm going to be that self, that's what I'll have to be. There's 
only two of me; the one Grandma made and the one I inherited from Mama 
and Daddy. If I can't be one, I've go tot be the other.'

She choked back a sob. It didn't seem right to cry about it. She'd been 
free to make her decision and her father had repeatedly sneered at 
people who spent their lives regretting their decisions. "Christ 
Almighty!" he'd always said. "When a guy makes up his mind, he shuts a 
door on the other alternative! He's got to live with what he took, and 
there's no damn excuse for looking at the bad side of that!"

'There's no damn excuse for looking at the bad side of it,' she 
repeated now. 'For fifteen and a half years I've fought with myself. 
I've stamped out every dirty thought the instant I had it and frozen 
ever wiggle of excitement. That's the way it had to be if I wanted to 
be like Grandma. All right! The dirty-minded, cock-hungry slut was the 
natural me all the time! Now I know that's what Art wants, and it means 
doing what my impulses say; that's all!'

She raised her eyes to gaze at tiny, puffball clouds as they drifted 
across the sky. 'All I have to remember is that's good, now, instead of 
bad? Let yourself go, Helen-baby! Do what you feel like, and the 
dirtier the better!' She squeezed her breasts and felt a surge of 
warmth, then grinned ruefully and shook her head. "No, stupid! Not like 
that!" She unbuttoned her dress from the throat to the waist and 
shrugged out of it, then struggled out of her bra and squeezed the 
naked globes. She trembled at the hot flush of pleasure. "Like this!" 
Teasing her own nipples, she flung back her head and laughed with joy. 
Her old self would hate the new, but life was going to be another thing 
when she could give herself without reserve to the sensations that 
arose around her.

'And then there's Smokey! I'll bet he doesn't care if I'm tied up or 
not! And I'll bet it would be a lot better if I weren't!' She swung her 
bra by its strap and let her dress dangle from where it had settled, 
riding on her hips. She shivered with a sense of wicked pleasure at the 
risqué picture she made, her boobs swaying, her navel exposed, and most 
of her lower belly visible as she strode toward the hidden corral and 
the frustrated little donkey.

She undressed and hung her clothes over the top rail before she went 
in. "The hell with the gate!" she exclaimed. "More fun to climb over!" 
She perched astride the rail for a moment, squirming at the harsh 
intimacy between it and her pussy. The she scrambled down and dug her 
toes into the organic soil and crossed to the feed table.

"Smokey?" she called. "Smokey!... Come on, baby! Come and get a piece 
of ass!"

Smokey shuffled toward her, his neck extended and his ears forward. She 
lay across the narrow plank, gripping its edge tightly and raising her 
knees. As the donkey came closer she spread her thighs and let him 
sniff her pussy. He licked, his tongue rough and impatient on her cunt, 
and he probed deep into her vagina, making her belly writhe.

"Good! Good baby! Oooh, Smokey, that's scrumptious!"

Smokey jerked his tongue free and tossed his head with a snort. Helen 
twisted to look under his belly and saw his cock swelling and 
lengthening. The beast quivered and pawed the ground.

"Wonderful! Wonderful, Smokey! You know!" She lowered her feet, 
touching the earth with her toes, her thighs widespread. "Come on, 
baby. Up between my legs!"

The donkey snorted again and reared on his short hind legs, taking a 
series of short, clumsy steps to position himself in the notch her legs 
made. She caught his forepaws to guide them clear of her belly, then 
reached under him and guided his prick to her cunt. His rump prodded 
and the bulky cockhead began to work against the tightness of her rim. 
She swung her legs around him and pulled fiercely, jerking herself onto 
the great cock and gagging happily when it crowded her guts.

"Ahhh! Ohhh, Smokey-baby! Fuck me good!" She grabbed his neck and 
hauled herself against him, his bristles stabbing her belly and gouging 
her tits. She pumped her ass, bouncing on his enormous shaft, and he 
banged at her until she was battering against the plank.

"God, yes, Smokey! Hit me! Hit me hard, baby!" Her cunt flamed with 
hunger and gulped the grotesque feast it held. Helen let go with her 
hands and flung her arms back, letting herself arch backward over the 
edge of the table. Her breasts jounced crazily and her fingers touched 
the ground. She knew she'd see the moving lump on her belly of the 
buried cockhead, if she only wanted to look. But she was starting to 
cum, and she didn't need to see. Her thighs clamped convulsively on 
Smokey's sides, his stiff hair digging at her tender flesh like 
handfuls of needles. Smokey backed suddenly, as if startled at 
something, and she felt herself dragged off the table. She hung head 
down beneath him, supported by the grip of her legs and pulling herself 
against his belly, his cock fully implanted in her. She continued to 
pump while she came, and Smokey's hindquarters continued to oscillate 
savagely.

His cock leaped abruptly within her and he threw his head up and 
brayed. His widely planted forelegs shook in Helen's grasp and she 
sobbed with overwrought awareness, pumping her hips slowly, sliding her 
stuffed pussy sensuously on his spurting cockshaft while his hot flood 
filled her. When the pulsing sensations at the mouth of her cunt 
subsided and the donkey's cock started to go soft, she loosened the 
grip of her legs and let herself slide off him to the ground. She 
rolled weakly aside, clear of his hooves, and pushed herself erect.

"Thank you, you walking cock. Thank you!" She went to him and hugged 
his ugly head, rubbing her tits against his face, then went to the 
corner of the corral and used the watering hose to rinse off the thick 
cum that trickled from her pussy. She took a cold douche and got 
dressed, leaving the corral with a bouncy step and a satisfied smile.

"All right!" she called to the clouds. "Okay! You saw that! Am I dirty 
enough? Am I doing all right or not?"

She returned to the house and made a perfunctory effort to straighten 
it. But she was too impatient for Art's arrival to care whether there 
was dust in the corners or not. At ten o-clock she made up her mind to 
shock him. "Like he'd want to be shocked," she said confidently. She 
found the bra and panties Danny had brought to her the night before. 
She stripped quickly and got into the revealing garments, then waited 
nervously.

She heard Art's car, peeked through the window to be sure it was him, 
and went to the center of the living room. When Art opened the door, he 
dropped his briefcase.

"Holy Jesus!" he exclaimed. "Is that you, Helen?"

"Of course! Honey, I've missed you something awful!"

"Sonovabitch!" He sprang across the room and crushed her in his arms.

"Honey!" she exclaimed over his shoulder. "Honey! You left the front 
door wide open!"

"Oh, shit! What's wrong with me!" He swung around, holing her in one 
arm, and went back to the door. Her toes dragged on the floor and she 
clung fiercely to him. He teased her, holding her before him in the 
open doorway and fingering her twat through the slit in her panties.

She was torn between hard-dying inhibitions and her new determination 
to ignore them. "Art!" she gasped, her glance darting up and down the 
street. "Art, honey! My God, somebody'll see us!" And then, pressing 
her head back against him and thrusting her knees apart. "To hell with 
it! Let them! Oh, rub, honey!"

Art crushed her clitoris with his fingers and she thrashed in his grip. 
She heard the solid "chunk" of a closing door.

Art carried her to the couch and dropped her on it. She lay as she 
fell, legs asprawl and arms extended, and watched him through half- 
closed eyes while he undressed. When he pushed his shorts off his hips, 
his cock leaped, dark with heat, the head halfway out of the foreskin. 
She rolled off the couch to her knees and flung her arms around Art's 
hips, kissing the heavy prick eagerly. She ran the tip of her tongue 
around the edge of his foreskin and lipped the tip of his cockhead.

Her husband buried his hands in her hair and tilted her head back, 
gazing into her face with a puzzled expression. "What's with you, 
baby?" he asked. "I don't know where you hid Helen, but you're sure a 
hell somebody else!" A grin grew slowly.

Helen trembled. "I'm me," she murmured. "I'm me, with the pretending 
gone. I'm who you really married." She pressed her boobs against his 
thighs. "Want to know about me?"

"Sometime," he said softly. "Not right now. I want to get to know you."

He loosened his grip and she put her lips to the nose of his cock. She 
sucked at it for a time and then forced her mouth over the entire head, 
biting gently on the foreskin and pushing it gently back onto his 
shaft. She played her tongue over his slit and listened to his breath 
hiss. To her delighted surprise, the sense of guilt that had nagged her 
for the past twenty-four hours evaporated. In its place, she felt a 
glow of pleasure in the knowledge she was giving him pleasure. 'And 
that's not just cock hunger!' she thought. 'I'm dying to get this 
beautiful cock into my pussy, but that's a different feeling.'

The appearance in Art's belly grew more pronounced. His flesh twitched 
and he twisted his hips slowly. At last he caught her under the armpits 
and raised her to her feet. "Come on, baby. Time we tried out those 
fancypants." He glanced at her nipples, outthrust by the upward force 
of her bra's half-cups, and his eyes gleamed. "And that titty-vendor," 
he added with a grin.

He took her to the dining room, where he pulled one of the straight 
chairs away from the wall. Seating himself on the edge, he drew her 
toward him. She straddled his lap, her twat hovering above his cock, 
and he straightened the rigid member with its head nuzzling her. She 
pulled the slit of her panties open and squatted, breathing deeply as 
she felt the knob of his cockhead settle into her gash.

"Mmm! Mmm!" she exclaimed. "I'm so hot for you, honey! God, this feels 
good!"

Her cunt stretched to engulf Art's cockhead and she let herself slip 
down the erect shaft. She lifted her feet, hooking her insteps over her 
husband's thighs, and rocked on his cock. He balanced her, his hands at 
her waist, and bent forward to suck at her nipples.

He pulled his mouth away for a moment. "If it's all right, that is," he 
said.

"If what's all right?" She shook with pleasure and made no sense out of 
his remark.

"Sucking your tits."

She whispered, "Don't be mean now, honey. Just fuck!"

Amazement flashed in his eyes. "Did you say what I thought you did?"

"Please!" she wailed. "Don't spoil it!"

"Sorry, baby. All the way this time, huh? Nothing barred?"

"Oh God, honey! Do I have to draw a picture?"

"No. Just wiggle that pussy a little harder, okay?" He grabbed her 
nipple again and began to chew it.

She levered her hips, grinding her pussy on the base of his cock and 
feeling the head thrust back and forth in her belly. Her hands 
fluttered. She caught Art's face between them and fingered his temples, 
rocking her head back and gazing at the ceiling.

"Honey! Ohhh, Honey!" she exclaimed. Shudders of pleasure racked her 
body. "Whew!... Whew!... Mmmm, yesss!"

Art let go of her tit and grunted. "Hey, baby! I'm about to get off! 
You think you can cum?"

"Try me!" she forced the words past clenched teeth. "Oh, quick, honey!"

He arched, his neck on the chair back and his ass thrusting upward off 
the seat. She straightened her legs, extending them to the sides, and 
felt the hardness of his hip joints digging into the flesh of her inner 
thigh muscles. His fingers squeezed her waist while she clutched 
fiercely at his wrists.

"Ummmmh! Baby!... BABY!" She swayed with the pulse of her lust.

Art bucked under her, stabbing his rigid cockshaft up into her, uttered 
an explosive grunt and spewed jism into her. She flinched at the 
violence of her contractions and ground her teeth together. When her 
orgasm released its grip on her, she fell forward on her husband.

"Darling! Ooohm darling! I love you! I love you so much!"

He stroked her back tenderly and touched her forehead with his lips. 
'Yeah, I love you, too, sugar. I've got to say, you're some kind of 
pussy today! What's the story?"

She told him of the childhood she'd kept secret from him. She mentioned 
the bad feeling between her grandmother and her parents and of her own 
worship of the hard-bitten old lady. And she described in vivid detail 
the crucial day in the wilderness area.

"Grandma died when she found out I was pregnant." she said. "There was 
only one way I could make up for that."

"And that was turning into the sterile kind of bitch she figured a 
broad ought to be?"

"Yes. I wouldn't say it like that, but yes.'

"You're not that icicle today! That's for damn sure!"

"No. Or ever again. I'm the other me."

"How come?" Art grinned and touched her lips with his fingertip. "Let 
me guess. Dr. Davis, maybe?"

"Ugh! Lecherous psycho! I'm never going there again!" She shuddered. 
"In a way it was him, though. he made me mad enough to start thinking. 
And Vanessa was there to think, too."

"Van. Yeah, she's got her feet on the ground."

"And her butt, with her legs spread, if a man looks interested!" Helen 
gasped, startled by her reaction.

Art pushed her away from his chest and stared at her. "Huh! What 
brought that on?"

"I saw. Art, I saw the way you took advantage when I was helpless that 
night. And she'd been waiting a long time! It was in her eyes!"

"Ohhh!" Art whistled. "Things moved too fast for you!"

"You two moved fast enough! If I'd been able to think, I'd have thought 
the two of you set me up so you could get together!"

"You mean that, don't you?"

Helen hesitated. For a moment she was aware of herself as if her 
consciousness were a third person. She felt the intimacy of her flesh 
with Art's and the emotional tension between them. And she had a weird 
sensation of clinging to him in some other dimension with slipping 
fingers.

"Art!" She heard the edge of panic in her own voice. "Honey! I'm sorry! 
I don't care about what you do with her! Just save enough for me!"

Art showered and dressed with no appearance of urgency. Helen slipped 
facial tissues inside the crotch of her panties and followed her 
husband, slouching against the cabinet in the bathroom while he was in 
the shower and perching on a chair with her arms around her knees while 
he was dressing. He chuckled when she followed him from the bedroom.

"You going to stay like that?" he asked.

"Do you mind? I'm going to take a douche in a minute, but I'm not going 
to dress."

"Man alive! Go douche, then!" He slapped her bottom. "And hurry!"

While she was in the bathroom, she heard the telephone. When she 
returned to the living room, Art was grinning.

"Hey! Guess what sugar! That was Van on the line!"

"Does she want me to call her back?" asked Helen.

Art shook his head, still grinning. "She wanted to tell you she and 
Barry were going to drop by. Be here in a few minutes."

"A few minutes!" Helen clutched at herself. "What for?"

Her husband shrugged. "Damned if I know. Just being friendly, near as I 
could tell." He glanced sideways at her. "Hell, maybe they figured 
they'd catch you alone and join you for fun and games. They didn't know 
I was taking the day off."

"Art! What a thing to say!"

He laughed. "I sure can't imagine why else Barry would be coming. Hell, 
he's got a job, too! You don't make sales sitting around home!"

She giggled. "Depends on what you're selling." And his earlier words 
came to her. "A few minutes, did you say!" She shrieked. "Honey! It was 
more than a few minutes ago when they called.

"Yeah."

"And you let me sit around here like this! Honestly, Art!"

"Barry's not about to criticize. And Van's understanding. Why not?"

'Why not! Why not, for the today-Helen?' she thought. 'Brrr! I wouldn't 
back away from that cock today!' "I think you're mean," she told Art. 
"But I've got the guts to call your bluff - this time."

She thought his eyes widened a trifle; she was certain he wasn't 
laughing. She dropped to the couch beside him and snuggled.

"Good God! You're going to do it, aren't you!"

"I'll dress if you say so."

"Naw. Let it go." He put his arm around her and toyed with one of her 
nipples.. "That reminds me!" he said suddenly. "I'm hungry!"

"I'll fix something for lunch!" She scrambled to her feet. "I'll get 
enough so they can eat with us if they have time."

"Good."

Before she had gotten to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. She heard 
voices and recognized Vanessa's. 'I can't do it!' she realized with a 
sinking feeling. 'I know I can't! Not like this!' She darted into the 
kitchen. 'An apron! That's what I need!' She jerked open the apron 
drawer and held up one of her hostess models.

"Oh, no!" she cried aloud. The apron was a dainty, decorative bit of 
uselessness, and the notion of resorting to it abruptly drew on a 
streak of perverse humor. She giggled and tied the belt ribbon on. 
Heart-shaped, the lower panel had a narrow band of red trim and a wider 
lace ruffle. She raised the upper panel and buttoned its straps behind 
her neck. It was a second, smaller heart, each lobe lying against the 
underside of one of her breasts with its strap wide of her nipple. She 
had to giggle again.

"My-y-y- God!" Vanessa's tone was a mixture of astonishment and awe. 
"Helen!"

Helen whirled. "Oh, dear God, Van! You scared me out of ten year's 
growth. I was afraid Barry was with you!"

"He's in with Art. But what are you doing dressed like that?"

"Art didn't change the other night, Van. You didn't really expect him 
to be that shocked, did you?"

Vanessa appeared to tense. "Well... "

"I wouldn't have expected it either, except I was high on screwdrivers. 
Anyhow, doing what I did convinced me how important he is to me." She 
paused and spread her hands, palms forward. "So I changed, instead."

"I can't believe it! Honey, you're not going out there in front of 
Barry like that, are you?"

"Why not? It didn't bother you the other night?"

"Damn it, that was night time! He's still got calls to make."

"Then how come he's over here in the middle of the day?"

Vanessa sniffed. "I didn't know that was a crime!"

"I didn't say it was. But neither one of you knew that Art was home 
today."

"No. We didn't. Why is he, anyway?" Vanessa's glance fell to Helen's 
scanty costume and the corners of her mouth crinkled. "On second 
thought, that's a foolish question."

"Art said you probably meant to take up where you left off the other 
night," suggested Helen. She was conscious of a twinge of guilt at the 
implication that Art had meant his little jest.

"You mean... ?" Van gasped. "For God's sake! Are you two paranoid?"

"He didn't mean it. I wondered, though, after he said it."

"Well! We were worried, if you want to know. We realized that was a 
rough experience for you. Barry thought you might like to go out to 
lunch with us." She shook her head. "Looks like that's the last thing 
you want to do."

"I was getting ready to fix something to eat here. Why don't you and 
Barry eat with us?"

"With you dressed like that, Barry would only be thinking of eating one 
thing. God, Helen! Turn around! Let me see how you look from behind!"

Helen turned, resentful of Vanessa's reaction. She heard Vanessa's low 
whistle.

"Those panties are a louder invitation than the ones Olga wears!" 
exclaimed the blonde. She smiled suddenly. "I wouldn't have guessed 
you'd own anything like that."

"Art sent for them. I couldn't throw them out, but they didn't ever 
come out of the drawer."

"He sent off? Where?"

Helen laughed. "You want a pair? They're risky, Van. Her irritations 
evaporated. 'After all, she has a right to be off balance,' she 
thought. 'How was she to know I was going to change? She didn't even 
know about the other me.' "Art might remember, though, if you're not 
scared of what might happen."

Vanessa responded to the new note in Helen's voice. "Honey, I said the 
other night you had guts. I just didn't know how much! Would you 
honestly let Barry see you in those in the middle of the day?"

Helen unfastened the apron and drew it aside with a delicious thrill of 
wickedness as Vanessa's gasp.

"Oh, God!" Vanessa groaned. "They're hotter than I thought! They don't 
hide anything! You wouldn't!"

"Yes, I would." Helen's stomach fluttered. Vanessa wasn't going to 
permit that, but the mere challenge was frightening.

Vanessa let her breath out slowly. "Oh, my! Honey, come on! I don't 
care if he does miss those calls! A guy doesn't get a chance to see 
that kind of underwear on a body like yours that often! He'd never 
forgive me If I cheated him out of it!"

"Oh, no! You don't really want me to!"

"No! Hell no! But Barry would! Come on!"

"But I haven't got lunch yet!"

"We can come back and fix it. Come on."

Vanessa grabbed Helen's hand and tugged. Helen hung back, and she 
thought for a moment Vanessa would give up. Then she felt her strength 
fade and the eager blonde dragged her from the room.

"Barry? Hey, Barry!" called Vanessa.

Helen freed herself by a desperate wrench. "I'll go! For God's sake, 
don't drag me!"

Barry and Art looked up as the two women entered the living room. Helen 
flushed under Barry's startled stare.

He whistled. "Jesus, Helen! What's with her, Art?"

Art shrugged. "Look for yourself. She sure as hell can't be hiding 
much."

Although his voice implied humor, Helen saw something else in his face. 
The sudden hunger she saw drew her like a magnet, and she glided to 
him. He extended his arm to lay his hand on her hip, the contact 
shocking her like an electric probe. He place his other hand on her 
waist and drew her to him. She emerged from her trance-like state long 
enough to throw a mute appeal to her husband, then let herself sink 
onto Barry's lap. he turned her as she lowered herself, and she leaned 
back against him, her head next to his cheek.

"Goddamn it, baby!" he said. "You'd make a guy lose his head with a 
show like that!" His fingertips brushed her nipples. "I don't see how 
I'm going to be in any shape to work this afternoon! When did you start 
wearing this kind of stuff around the house?"

"You talk a lot," she murmured, her flesh quivering at the continued 
fondling of her tits.

"I guess." He laughed and began to rub her bare belly. "But you've been 
so damn modest all the time we've known you, I thought you were a 
prude! And then night before last and today!... Shit! Is it a wonder I 
talk?"

She moaned softly and squirmed. "I don't know. Art didn't."

Barry winced and squeezed her breast. "Art's a man of action, pet. Or 
else he's got a one-track mind? I don't know which. Me, I like the way 
conversation lubricates a situation."

'It isn't talk that's getting me lubricated!' thought Helen. 'God. I'm 
wet!'

Barry felt the protruding strands of her pubic hair and the taut 
netting of her panties. 'Tell Van where these came from, baby. She's 
got to have some."

"They came from Art, and I told her."

"Like hell! I mean, where he got them! She'd better not get any from 
him!"

"Barry! You sound jealous!"

"I don't care what you call it. She's had hot pants for that guy of 
yours as long as I did for you! If she wants him to lay her once in a 
while, that's fine with me. But I'll be damned if he's going to buy 
these things for her!" He slid his hand between her thighs.

Helen clamped her legs together and Barry used both hands to pry them 
apart. He grabbed her twat and his finger slipped through the panty 
opening. He gasped.

"Christ! What next! A cockgate!"

Barry maneuvered her on his lap until he could unzip his pants and let 
his cock surge through his fly.

"Oh, dear!" she whispered. "Oh, dear!" She tightened her buttocks and 
thrust her legs out, raising her pussy for him.

He parted her labia and dragged his fingers over the mouth of her 
vagina. Her hips twisted.

"Barry, darling," she whispered. "Put your cock in, please! I want him 
so!"

"Shit, Helen! I've got to work this afternoon!"

"With a hard-on?"

He laughed. "You win. And that's how it would be. Probably will anyhow, 
every time I think of you in these fuck-pants!" He grasped her by the 
waist and raised her onto his cock.

She bent forward to rest her hands on his thighs, settling onto the 
hard prick. A gust of contentment swept her as she felt herself filled. 
"Ahhh! Barry, Barry!"

He slid his hands onto her hips, grasping the smooth bulges firmly and 
bouncing her. The edge of the couch pressed her calves and her breasts 
leaped in their half-cup supports. She clenched her teeth and groaned 
shakily.

"I'm going to cum pretty fast this way, baby," Barry told her. Seeing 
that little strip of hot net across an ass like yours is enough to 
light a short fuse!"

"I don't care!" she panted. "I'll love every second of it!" She was 
surprised at having discovered she wasn't up tight about reaching an 
orgasm. 'Because I've had so many the last three days.' she thought. 'I 
wouldn't fight it, but I can wait until next time.'

Barry's hips jerked upward, his balls mounding against the sober gray 
of his trousers, and Helen felt herself driven higher, the base of his 
cock hard against her pussy. She shook while Barry pumped his jism into 
her and continued to twitch after he had squeezed out the last of his 
cum and fallen back. When there was no stiffness left in the cock that 
impaled her, she pushed herself off. She faced Barry, bending over him 
and kissing him on the mouth. Then she straightened.

"Thank you, darling," she said. "It feels so good to have you screw 
me."

He sighed. "You're a good lay, Helen. I wish we'd started swapping 
sooner."

She tensed. "Swapping! Barry, only nasty minded sex fiends swap! We're 
not doing that!"

"Whatever. I still wish we'd started sooner."

"Okay. So do I," She wrinkled her nose at him. "We didn't, though. That 
means we've go to catch up."

"Oh, shit!" he groaned. "One crack like that and I'm in just as bad a 
shape as I was before you made me screw you! Helen, you're not even the 
same broad I used to know!"

"No." She dropped her glance to her toes. "No, I'm not, Barry. But 
that's a long story."

"Tell you what," he said. "I'm going to remember that. One of these 
nights we'll make it as far as a bed. And when we're screwed out, we 
can lie there next to each other while you tell me the whole thing. 
Time you finish, we'll be rested enough to make it again."

"Oh, you! she laughed, feeling herself flush. "Van? Do we have to get 
lunch?"

Vanessa cuddled on Art's lap, her lips at his ear, stirred and looked 
around. "Hmm? Lunch? Not now. Barry's appointment is in half an hour." 
She glanced at her husband. "For heaven's sake, Barry! Get your peter 
in!" And then, "Oh, no! You've got to go home and change! You've got 
pussy tracks all over you!"

Helen's face burned and she avoided Vanessa's eyes. Barry grumbled and 
tucked his cock inside his trousers.

"It isn't all that Goddamn bad, woman." he growled.

"It's bad enough you've got to change your pants!"

"Okay, okay. I didn't say I wasn't going to. Only we'll have to get a 
move on. You ready to wind up whatever you got going with Art?"

"And what would that be?" Vanessa bristled.

"How the hell would I know? Maybe you're trying to work him for a pair 
of those fuck-pants!"

"Barry Rush!" His wife blazed at him. "You go ahead. I'll get Art and 
Helen to bring me home."

"Suit yourself." Barry heaved himself to his feet and zipped his fly. 
He paused on the way to the door to kiss Helen, then he was gone.

"Maybe he was hungry," suggested Art.

"Of course he was! Hungry for pussy when he saw all that flesh! Well, 
he got it, didn't he?"

Helen resented Vanessa's implications. "It seems to me you dragged me 
in here like this," she said. "I was looking for something to cover me 
up."

"A hostess apron?!" Vanessa snorted. "What's the difference? I mean, 
after all!"

"You still dragged me in."

"Damn it! Once I saw you like that I couldn't do anything else! It's a 
sort of a thing between Barry and me. Like an unwritten agreement. But 
I wouldn't have had to if you'd had any clothes on."

"Van! For Christ's sake! I dress for what's happening when I'm at home, 
not for whether someone might drop in!"

"I called first."

Art nodded. "They did phone first," he said. "Fact is, I've got to 
agree it's going pretty far to shack up with another guy on his lunch 
break. I mean, it's like the difference between liking to eat and being 
compulsive about it. I don't know that we want to let this thing 
between us go quite that far."

Helen stared at her husband, aghast. 'He didn't want me the way I was.' 
she thought. 'Now he doesn't want me this way, either!' A tendril of 
panic sneaked through her. 'What'll I do! It's too late to go back! It 
was bad enough to have to live with what I did with that Indian guide: 
I couldn't stand to have all the things I've done these three days 
hiding in the back of my mind! Besides, I like sex too much. If I have 
to choose, I'd rather be what I am now! Oh, what'll I do?'

Vanessa sighed and got up. "Look, maybe we're all hungry. We're getting 
all up tight without any good reason. We're mature enough to be honest 
about what we feel like doing. If one of us is a little hotter what's 
the difference? Maybe I don't yank off my clothes every time I get hot 
for Art, but there might be a time when I would. I'm not going to set 
myself up to judge you for going overboard, Helen."

Helen cleaned up after lunch. She'd sensed a current flow between Art 
and Vanessa and suggested that he take Vanessa home. She knew he'd 
understood - and that he wouldn't hurry back. And she found herself 
spending more time thinking than working. The two strokes of the 
grandmother clock in the dining room nearly failed to register with 
her. She felt them rather than hearing them, and they were nothing but 
an echo in her mind when she realized they meant something.

"Omigod!" she exclaimed aloud to herself. Danny! He gets out of school 
at two! And he'll probably run all the way home! He's not going to 
catch me dressed this way!

She dropped the plate she was holding. Ignoring the crash it made when 
it shattered on the floor, she sprinted toward the master bedroom.

"I did promise about the bath," she muttered. "I did promise about 
that. And he'll insist on watching me undress. Well, I'm not going to 
be wearing these! Not for him again!" She whipped off the controversial 
bra and panties and put on more conventional replacements. What dress? 
What dress? She searched through her closet, then stopped abruptly. 
Helen! You stupid bitch! Why not a dressing gown? What would be more 
natural, knowing I'm going to be taking a bath?

She stripped again and shrugged into her everyday dressing gown, 
wondering why she hadn't heard her son yet. She worried in spite of 
herself, and she'd gone to both outside doors before she recalled that 
Danny would assume his father was there. "And he'll figure I'm not 
going to take a bath in front of him when Art's home," she added aloud.

As she closed the back door she heard Danny come in through the front.

After a moment of silence, he called out. "Hey! Anyone home? Where is 
everybody?"

She smiled. "Here I am Danny."

"Oh. Okay."

She went through the kitchen to the dining room and saw her son 
disappearing in to his room. He reappeared at once.

"Had to get rid of my books," he said. "Hey, where's Dad?"

"He went out. He'll be back for supper."

"Oh. Good! Hey, Mom, any apples? I'll eat one while I'm watching you 
take a bath." He paused and a question showed in his expression. "You 
didn't take it yet, did you? You promised, Mom!"

She shook her head. "No. No, I haven't taken it yet."

"Great! Bitchin', Mom! Hey, I got an idea! I'll eat that apple later; 
I'll take a bath with you, Mom! Won't that be something else!'

He seized her and crushed her to him, twisting her so her breasts 
rubbed on his chest. His hand slid through the overlap on the front of 
her gown and pressed between her thighs to bury itself among the folds 
of her pussy. She squirmed, warmth rising through her and a surge of 
excitement momentarily making her giddy.

"Oh, Danny!" she whispered. "Please!"

"Oh, okay." He withdrew his hand after letting one fingertip dart into 
her cunt for an instant. "Okay, I guess. Come on. We've got a lot of 
time."

They had, she realized. They had time for Danny to carry out any number 
of boyish games with her, and she was convinced his was an inventive 
imagination. She shivered and backed away. They went to the master 
bath, where she knelt to start the water. She used a generous portion 
of bubblebath, knowing she'd be grateful for the thick suds at first. 
After that, she thought with a sigh, I won't care. I know it!

Instead of waiting for the tub to fill, Danny returned to his room to 
undress. "It's like filling a swimming pool," he muttered as he left.

When he returned he was totally naked and had a massive hard-on. Helen 
felt a painful surge of desire at the sight of his youthful leanness as 
he strode into the room completely unabashed by his stiff erection. She 
was struck again by the over-sized appearance of his cock and its 
darkness. He looked as if someone had constructed him out of spare 
parts, giving him a boy's body - beautifully developed, but a boy's 
nonetheless - and a giant's prick. There was no mistaking his 
immaturity, however. He had a massive hard-on, his cock engorged and 
already dripping long, thin strands of his colorless pre-cum fluid. 
Helen's mouth watered.

Danny was as eager as his hard-on made him appear. He went immediately 
to his mother and untied her belt, drawing back the front of her gown 
to expose her creamy nakedness. His eyes glittered and he licked his 
lips. Helen quailed before his fierce expression of hunger. She 
clutched his forearms, recognizing his physical tension by the iron-
hard condition of his muscles. With as little attention to her 
resistance as if her hands were at her sides, he raised his arms and 
slipped the gown off her shoulders. She released his wrists and let the 
garment slide off her arms and tumble to the floor.

Her son breathed hard as he ran his hands over her. "I thought about 
you all day, Mom," he said. "I kept seeing you like this and getting a 
hard-on." He grinned wryly. "By the end of the first period my balls 
ached so bad I could hardly make it to the next class!"

She whispered. "Danny... " And she stopped, having nothing to say.

She quivered, standing motionless while he continued to caress her. Her 
flesh tingled and there was a pressure in her lungs she couldn't ease. 
She knew nothing would help the dryness in her mouth, but she kept 
trying to generate saliva. Time seemed to her to have frozen, and she 
had a weird presentiment that she would stand before her son through 
eternity, his hands stroking her and his eyes devouring her.

"Isn't that tub full enough yet?" he asked.

She tore her gaze from his face and looked down. "Yes! If we're both 
going to get in there, it'll run over if it's any fuller!"

He stopped and turned the valves, then helped her as she stepped down 
into the water. She sank grateful into the foam, thankful as she's 
expected for the momentary respite from Danny's attention. He followed 
her in and luxuriated in the hot, foamy water. The dark purple knob of 
his erection poked up just above the surface of the water.

"Wow! This is all right! A guy could get to like this!" he exclaimed. 
"Maybe chicks have the right idea!"

She smiled. "It's a woman's secret - the way we unwind."

He grinned. "Be as good a place to wind up as unwind," he remarked. 
"Let's try it." He pulled her around, her back against his belly, and 
forced her legs apart. To keep them spread to his liking, he raised his 
knees and planted his feet between her thighs. She raised her own knees 
to ease the strain and gasped when he grabbed her pussy. He wasted 
little time finding her clitoris. He rubbed it gently, the soapy water 
making his fingertips slide easily on its sensitive surfaces, and Helen 
gulped with sudden lust. Her cunt felt as if it would look like a 
fish's mouth at feeding time, snapping greedily at nothing.

She grunted and thrust her hands between her back and her son's belly 
to seize his cock. He forced the fingers of one hand into her cunt and 
pulled her forward, tilting her and forcing her even further open.

"Danny! Danny!" she writhed against him.

Her clitoris felt raw before he abandoned his massage and she was 
certain he'd sensed how close she had come to orgasm. He kept one hand 
at her pussy, still thrust deeply into it, and slid the other under her 
to squeeze her buttocks. His fingers probed toward her rectum, and she 
raised herself involuntarily for the penetration she knew would come. 
She felt one finger force its way into her, then gasped and cried out 
as another joined it. The dual insertion, with his hands filling both 
her cunt and her rectum, destroyed the last vestiges of her self-
control. She jerked her legs around his and thrust her ass about 
wildly. Her arms shook with the force of her grip on her son's cock, 
and she used the rock-hard prick as a lever for her thrashing. Her 
boobs surged in and out of the water, splashing great gobs of foam up 
and onto the surrounding floor.

"Omigod! Omigod! Danny, I'm already cumming! AGHHH!"

"You've got a long way to go, Mom." Danny's voice sounded strained. "My 
cock's got a fierce load, and you're going to be all over it!"

She groaned, the rigidity of her climax reaction fading, and lay back 
panting. "Oh, my! Oh, my, Danny! I couldn't help it!"

"It doesn't matter. You can come over and over." He captured her 
clitoris under his thumb without evacuating either her ass or her 
pussy.

She shrieked. "NO! Please, Danny! It's too tender right now! Ohhh, 
please!"

He ignored her pleading and new streaks of intolerable excitement 
stabbed her. She struggle to stop him, but his legs held hers 
helplessly apart and she found his elbows had her arms trapped.

"Damn you, Danny! You just don't care if it hurts, do you?"

"Aw, you're just saying that, Mom. It really feels good, only you want 
to wait in between times."

"No! No, I tell you it hurts!"

"Pain and excitement are all the same... no, pain and pleasure. One of 
the guys said he read that in a book."

'The cocky little bastard!' she thought of Danny. 'This time he happens 
to be right. It's really just too much pleasure to take. But that 
pleasure pain bit could get dangerous!' She gave up analysis; pleasure 
had overcome reluctance and she was flailing about on his hands again.

She reached such a high pitch that she only vaguely knew when he pulled 
out his fingers. She was conscious only of the fact that she was 
terribly full and deliriously happy at one point, then empty and 
yearning at another.

He lifted her up and sat her down on his cock with the head lodged at 
her rectum.

"Easy the first time." she cautioned him.

He didn't force her down, only guided her hips as he withdrew support, 
letting her own weight force her reluctant sphincter over the great 
bulb.

"Oh, Jesus!" she groaned aloud as her sphincter slowly dilated and 
swallowed the fat knob of his cock.

Her ass burned furiously, lacking sufficient lubrication. Her 
fingernails dug viciously into the flesh of his bare shoulders and her 
jaws clenched so tight that her neck hurt as she settled slowly onto 
the long shaft, silently enduring the fiery sensation of first entry.

When they were first married and still experimenting she had done this 
several times with Art. After the initial pain passed she had enjoyed 
it immensely. But that had been a long time ago and Danny was much 
bigger than Art.

"Oh, no! Danny, it's too much! Please, don't!" she begged. "Not so 
deep, Danny! You're going to hurt me!"

But Danny appeared to have further plans for her in his own build-up. 
He lifted her higher during one of the strokes, and she writhed 
helplessly while the wide shoulders of his cockhead tugged against her 
asshole and her sphincter slowly stretched enough to give up its 
enormous prisoner. When he lowered her again his cock drove upward into 
her cunt. There was no change in the motion, except she slid faster 
each time she was dropped, slamming onto the base of his cock with 
jarring blows. And the sensations seemed more intensely sexual.

Then, with excellent timing, he shifted his stiff organ at the peak of 
her stroke, doing it so fast and smooth that she was unaware of it 
having moved until she slammed down and her butthole exploded with pain 
at the sudden forceful insertion. She was moving so rapidly that her 
own momentum had completed half the stroke before she could react. But 
even as she slowed her downward movement Danny's hands were already on 
her hips, grasping her hipbones firmly, forcing her to continue 
downward until the cheeks of her buttocks rested on his thighs.

"Oh, it hurts!" she protested.

Danny held her buttocks tightly against his pelvis, the full length of 
his stiff phallus sheathed in her tortured colon, and shifted beneath 
her, grinding and rolling and bucking.

Another fraction of an inch in either length or breadth would have been 
too much, would have ruptured her.

When he relaxed his grip on her hip bones she gave a shuddering sigh of 
relief and lifted only a little before she settled carefully onto him 
again and began to ride him slowly, enduring the delicious torture of 
his immense organ stretching her colon.

When her thighs grew tired and she faltered he slipped his hands under 
her buttocks and lifted her, dropping her suddenly. The full length of 
his fat rigid phallus slammed up into her asshole with an impact that 
made her winch and cry out.

"Oh, Danny!" she groaned. "You're too damn big for this."

He lifted and dropped her repeatedly, and she knew she was sliding the 
full length of his cock with every stroke. She lost track of time and 
began to wonder dully whether she was going to cum or faint.

On the next upstroke he shifted again and she came down with her ass 
still burning but empty and her pussy crammed full. The sensation was 
so intense that lights exploded in her brain, she quivered from head to 
toe and her cunt clenched spasmodically on her son's cockshaft. 
Vaguely, through the mist of her climax she heard Danny's voice. 
"That's a good one, huh, Mom?"

At last - and still without having reached an orgasm - her son peeled 
her off his cock. He thrust her away from him, pressing her back 
against one side of the tub and kneeling astride her body. "How is it, 
Mom?" he asked. "Good, huh?"

He grinned proudly and thrust his belly forward grasping his cock in 
one hand a rubbing it across her mouth. Even in her dazed condition, 
her pussy hardened and her mouth watered at the sensation of the 
velvety cockhead on her lips. She dabbed at the thin coating of his 
fluid with her tongue.

"I'm something special, huh, Mom? Boy, I know some things to do!" He 
placed his hands in her armpits and lifted, sliding her more nearly 
erect. "I'm ready now, Mom. I thought this up by myself!"

He pressed against her, laying his cock in the cleft between her 
breasts, his thighs shoving up and in against the fullness of her 
globes. Raising her hands, he placed her palms on the outer slopes of 
her boobs and pushed until her flesh closed over the base and lower 
shaft of his cock. His balls rested against her solar plexus, bumping 
when she inhaled. His cock reared from between her breasts with its 
head touching the point of her chin.

"See, Mom? Room service! Boobs and mouth at the same time! Okay?"

Despite the revulsion she experienced at his egotism, she throbbed from 
the combined stimulus of the pulsing warmth between her boobs and the 
heavy scent of the bulb at her lower lip. "Okay, Son," she murmured. A 
spasm of desire seized her and she grunted. "Yes! Yes, Danny!" She 
lowered her face, her mouth opening widely to envelop his cockhead.

Her son pumped his hips slowly, his shaft sliding freely between the 
foamy surfaces of her boobs and his cockhead rubbing a path along the 
roof of her mouth to the arch of her throat. The tip of her tongue 
jabbed into his slit, exploring the quivering walls, and she sucked 
frantically. He pumped faster, a recurrent tremor betraying his growing 
agitation. Helen kneaded the sides of her breasts without being 
conscious of the act and pushed them to present her nipples to the 
friction of her son's belly.

Danny bent his neck abruptly, resting his chin on his chest and 
gritting his teeth audibly. His cock pulsed and steaming, thick jism 
welled into the back of Helen's mouth. She gulped, swallowing his cum 
as fast as he pumped it, the sweet-sour flavor making the back of her 
jaw buzz. She had a moment of detached realization that she wasn't 
going to come and an immediate surge of satisfaction in the knowledge. 
Her dazed condition cleared abruptly, leaving her alert and calm.

When Danny's rigidity ebbed, she was content to allow her own passion 
to cool without resolution. She sucked his cockhead dry and removed her 
hands from her breasts. Danny continued to lean against her for a time, 
then slid back into the water to rest.

"Whew!" He grinned wearily at his mother. "Whew! Some fuck, MOM!"

She returned his gaze coolly. "Danny, it's time we started treating 
that word with proper respect."

"Huh?" He stared.

"Fuck is a powerful word. It's short and pungent and earthy. It's sound 
sort of reaches down into a person's guts and makes them feel like what 
it means. It loses all that if it's used at the wrong times or with the 
wrong meaning. Understand?"

"I guess so." He shook his head slowly.

Helen actuated the drain lever and rose to her feet. She reached across 
to the towels and handed one to her son, sponging at the water that 
coursed down her own body.

"Hey!" Danny protested. "You said I could dry you!"

"You can. I'm just getting the worst of it so I won't make a big puddle 
on the floor."

"Oh." Danny toweled himself rapidly and clambered out of the tub.

Helen accepted her son's help as she stepped out and stood quietly 
while he fondled her through the towel. His hands aroused her, even 
through the thick terrycloth, and she made no effort to resist the 
impulses that coursed through her. She permitted herself to squirm when 
she felt like it and to thrust her pussy harder against Danny's hand 
when he dried it, frankly parting her thighs to heighten her pleasure. 
But when she was dry and Danny had tossed the towel aside, she vetoed 
his attempt to resume his feeling- up.

"Huh? But, Mom!" Danny looked deeply puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"You're looking forward to another two hours of sex, I suppose."

"Well... well, aren't we going to?"

"No."

"Why not? Aw, shit, Mom!"

"Danny!" she drew herself erect. "That'll be all of that kind of 
language."

"But gee, MOM! What's all the fuss?"

"No fuss. Just time we understood each other. Time to find out where 
each of us stands."

He attempted to divert her. "Rather lay," he said with a grin.

"Of course!" She smiled. "Look, Danny. You've got to learn a lot yet 
before you can spend all your time on sex. Maybe then you'll know 
better. The point is, this thing of ours got started in a sort of 
misunderstanding. When you found those doors open and barged in on me, 
you made some remark about having had the wrong idea about privacy. 
Well, modesty's another word that has something to do with privacy. 
Privacy and modesty mean just about the same thing in this house now as 
they did before that day.

"The same kinds of off-limits things, Mom?"

"Yes. You caught me in the very worst spot in my changeover of ideas 
and... well, values. I'm not going into that with you, but things were 
so confused I let you assume things that weren't true. And I let you 
make plans that aren't going to get carried out."

"Like what plans, Mom?"

She saw an edge of fear in his expression. 'He knows he's about to lose 
something that he thought he had sewed up', she thought. She felt a 
pang of sympathy, but her obligation was clear. "Like your idea we were 
going to play sex games every time the coast was clear... that you had 
a license to play sex games with me whenever you felt like it. It's not 
going to work that way. You lucked out about getting a real life 
demonstration of what Mr. Duffy was talking about. You even got to try 
out some pretty wild ideas of your own. But that's as far as it goes. I 
get my sex from your father, and I like it. When it's time for you to 
get yours, you're on your own. I'll answer questions. I might even 
listen to fantasies sometime and tell you how they affect me - or 
whether I think they're possible. But I'm not going to be a guinea pig 
for you."

"You mean, like Smokey?"

She smiled again. "Like Smokey. Incidentally, if you do find a girl 
who's willing to try that, she might like it better the first time if 
you can work it so she's on her back. She'll have less psychological 
blocks to overcome and more erotic contact with the animal."

Her son's eyes widened. She realized he was speculating - that he must 
suspect she'd continued that line of research without his knowledge. 
But she wasn't concerned; she expected him to harbor some residue of 
erotic notions about her from now on.

"The fact is, Danny, I might even let you play with me once in a while. 
That's not a promise, and you shouldn't count on it, but it isn't 
impossible that I might feel like it someday. In the meantime, you'd 
better get a good look at me right now, because I'm through posing for 
you."

Helen's plans came to naught. Less than an hour later the telephone 
rang. Art was calling to say his business deal was not complete and 
that he'd be staying over another day.

The last few days' activities had built a need in her, a need she had 
planned to share with Art. But Art wasn't available. Helen tried to 
ignore the need building in her but it was too great. Finally 
swallowing her pride she went in search of Danny.

"Your father won't be home until 4:00 tomorrow afternoon. If you agree 
to abide by my rules we'll do whatever you want until then." She could 
see him mentally calculating the hours. "I'll even let you skip school 
tomorrow," she added.

"What if I don't agree?" he asked with a note of challenge in his 
voice.

"Marmion Military Academy!" she stated flatly.

"Mom! You wouldn't!" Danny protested in amazement.

"You just try me, young man!" she challenged.

"What are your rules?" he asked a little petulantly.

"Just one rule. After tomorrow you don't ever come on to me again. 
When, and if, I'm interested I'll come to you. Its been wonderful, 
Danny, but its wrong."

"Okay. I agree." he succumbed reluctantly.

Helen gave a small sigh of relief and relaxed visibly, confident now 
that she was now in control again. Danny would never know how close he 
had come to total domination of his mother. "When do we start?" Danny 
asked on a slightly brighter note.

"Right now, if you want. I'm all yours until four-o-clock Monday."

Helen had Art to herself that evening. Danny climaxed a restless 
afternoon by requesting permission to eat pizza at a place downtown and 
see one of the new movies, and she was quite willing to agree. Before 
Danny left, he brought up the subject of the donkey again.

"Don't get mad, Mom, but I was wondering."

"What?"

"Well, most people don't get around donkeys very much. Do you think 
dogs would be likely to do that as Smokey was?"

She hesitated. "Probably," she replied at last.

"Mom, was he good?"

She felt a flush rise to her face. "Yes. Very good."

"Hmmmm."

He had been gone only a few minutes when Art got home, and Art had seen 
Danny."

"I saw Danny crossing a vacant lot about six blocks from here. Where's 
he going?"

She told him.

"Oh." Art's voice sounded lighter. "How come you're all dressed then?"

She sniffed. "Seems to me there was something mentioned about people 
being modest." She grinned at his pained expression. "Look, hon," she 
said. "I had a chance to take a good look at myself while you were with 
Van this afternoon. I decided I'd swung like a pendulum. I was a first 
class Victorian - a Grandma Farrell - until I realized I was going to 
lose you that way. So I went to the other extreme - a no-holds-barred 
nympho. Well, I think I know what I am now."

"Yeah? Well enough to tell me?"

"I think so. I love sex, honey. I'll do anything or let anything happen 
to me... at the right time, with the right person and when I'm in the 
right mood. I'm going to be my own boss about that, and I'm not going 
to let Grandma Farrells' ghost scare me out of having fun or let every 
casual stimulus stampede me into tearing off my clothes."

Art was studying her with an expression of obvious respect. She leaned 
against him and let her love for him show in her smile.

"Of course, darling... " she spoke softly. "The strongest stimulus I 
know is seeing you want me. And that's never casual."

"If I get a 'let's screw' look in my eye, off come the clothes?" he 
asked with a grin.

"If that's what you want. Or on they stay, if you want it that way."

He began to look agitated. "What about guys like Barry?"

"I'm not sure. Barry's good with sex. I don't mind having him make love 
to me. But he's not so important to me that I'd let him if you didn't 
want me to. And I'm certainly not interested in trying out anybody 
else, unless you think I ought to." She hesitated, then continued. "If 
I see a guy who really turns me on, I'll tell you about him and We'll 
decide if I ought to try him out."

Art whistled. "Goddamn! That doesn't sound like a woman talking! Sounds 
like the way a man would think!"

"There's been some pressure," she said. "It wasn't the kind of pressure 
I could have survived with tears of wishful thinking. Maybe it took 
survival-type logic" She smiled in an effort to appear disarming. "I 
guess that'd men call man-type thinking."

He growled. "Come on, you sexy broad. Let's eat so we'll have some time 
for screwing!"

She got supper ready, pausing from time to time to enjoy one of Art's 
lewd caresses, and they ate quickly. Art helped her with the dishes, 
and while she was polishing the sink and cabinet he began to unbutton 
her dress. She gave herself up to a delicious, all-over tingle and 
completed her work with a hasty swipe of the cloth. Hanging it ver the 
faucet, she turned to face her husband.

Art pushed her dress off her shoulders and she let it slide to the 
floor, remembering how her dressing gown had fallen beside the bathtub. 
She watched Art's jaw twitch as he unfastened her bra and pulled it 
away from her breasts. And she rested the heels of her hands on the 
cabinet and leaned back, the cold edge pressing into the small of her 
back while Art closed his lips over one puckered nipple. When he 
straightened, his hands already rolling down the top of her panties, he 
sighed gustily.

"I'm going to like the new Helen best of all," he said.

"Me too!" Helen shivered.

The telephone rang at precisely the moment that Helen drew her foot out 
of her panties. She wrinkled her nose.

Art swore. "Oh, shit! Now what?"

"I'll get it, honey."

"Well... Okay, but I'll go with you."

When she picked up the receiver, he stood behind her. She leaned 
against him and he cupped his hands over her breasts, kneading gently.

"Hello?"

"Hi. This is Van."

"Oh! Hi, Van."

"Helen, Barry and I were wondering if you and Art would like to come 
over for some games tonight."

Helen repeated the message to Art. He hesitated.

"I'm not too eager about it right now," he said. "It's up to you, 
though."

She spoke into the mouthpiece. "Van, would you be awfully upset if we 
took a raincheck?"

"No, I guess not. Say, did Art tell you what happened this afternoon?"

"No."

"One of those pipes in the upstairs bathroom ruptured. The place was 
flooded! I had to call a plumber, and there were three of them here all 
afternoon running copper tubing. Art and I spent five hours trying to 
save everything that was wet. Tell him, 'Thanks again!' "

"I will."

"Oh, another thing. You might want to keep on eye on Danny, too."

"What?"

Van chuckled. "That kid's got enterprise! He was over here about an 
hour ago. Talked me into showing him how I trim that special hybrid 
Winter Wonder in our lath house. I was so surprised when he started to 
feel me up I didn't stop him. He was damn good at it, and I wanted to 
see how far he'd go. Well, let me tell you, I'll spin on that cock 
anytime! Honey, he was magnificent! But is he ever athletic! He had me 
all over the lath house... in the leafmold on the benches, against the 
planters... Jesus!

"Good God!" whispered Helen. "Oh, Van! I'm sorry!"

"Helen, don't apologize. But you'd better tell me if you don't want him 
making out over here. I like what he's got, and he can play games with 
me any day of the week!" Vanessa laughed nervously. "I think he finally 
hit on a way to break the ice with that snotty sister of mine too. 
Don't ask me how, but he must have found out Olga's one human trait is 
she's an absolute pushover for animals! Show her a stray cat or a bird 
with a broken wing or a perfectly healthy goat and she adopts the damn 
thing. So Danny just happened to ask her - just happened to, mind you - 
if she'd ever spent much time around donkeys. Seems his donkey - 
Smokey, of course - has had some problem Danny can't figure out how to 
solve. He didn't seem willing to describe what was wrong; said a person 
would have to see for himself to appreciate how seriously it distressed 
the poor creature. And Olga thawed and had Danny out of here so fast it 
made our heads swim!"

Helen groaned faintly. "Any other sparkling news?" she asked.

"No. I guess that covers it. I'll phone you to see if we can work out a 
good time for another get-together. Okay?"

"Okay."

When Helen hung up, Art swept her into his arms and carried her to the 
couch. She was aflame with desire for him as the result of his 
unceasing attention to her boobs during the long telephone 
conversation, but he sent her excitement rocketing with the 
unrestricted handling he gave her now. She was so ecstatic over her own 
response; she soared into three orgasms before he reached his first, 
and she began to think there was nothing he could do that wouldn't 
drive her to climax.

Vanessa called back an hour later. "Helen I guess Danny scored with 
Olga, too. He just brought her back, and she's dragging as if she'd 
treated the Army of the South! I'm afraid they didn't give poor old 
Smokey much help." She paused. "What's wrong with the old fellow, 
anyway?"

"It's like Danny said, Van. You've got to see it to understand what a 
problem it is for him."

"I wish I could help. I'd do just about anything for that sweet old 
thing."

Helen gasped and grinned with delight. She could think of nothing that 
would give her more satisfaction than to see Van's full-curved body 
under Smokey, impaled with that majestic cock of his. And, if she 
worked it right, she could use Danny's movie camera to provide 
something she and Art could enjoy over and over.

"Van?"

"Huh?"

"You mean that? About helping him, I mean?"

"I certainly do!"

"Maybe if you have time tomorrow morning you could take a look at him."

"Good heavens, yes! I'll be over as soon as Barry and Olga are out of 
the house!"

This time, when Helen turned away from the telephone, she was in an 
incredulous daze. She could hardly believe it had been so easy. But Art 
looked concerned.

"What's all this about Smokey?" he asked. "Something wrong with him I 
didn't know about?"

She stared at her husband for a moment, recalling the way he'd 
described what would happen if she gave Smokey a chance to mount her. 
The fact that he'd been accurate was of no importance; the loving 
attention to detail, though, suggested he might have the same 
voyeuristic thing about watching such an act as Danny had shown.

"Well... " She felt confused and a little embarrassed. It would be 
worth the embarrassment if she could bring him as much pleasure as she 
thought she could. "Well, he spends about eighty percent of his time 
shuffling around with a hard-on, honey. He's frustrated as hell, and 
you know how unlikely we are to find anyone who'll let us breed him to 
their mare. He's just too damn little!"

Art nodded. "You can hardly call that a disease, though. What the hell 
could anyone do for him?"

She stared into space, pretending to be daydreaming. "I'm not sure. You 
remember telling me how wrong I was when I said you made love like an 
animal? You talked about Smokey then."

Art frowned, then looked up sharply. "About how Smokey would put it to 
a woman?"

"Yes."

"Hell, that was pure fiction. I wanted to shock you."

She smiled shyly. "I know. But I was just wondering. You suppose if he 
were coaxed right he might... ?"

"Helen!" There was a note of wild, incredulous hope in her husband's 
voice. "Helen! You'd be willing to... ? You'd try that?!"

"For you, honey. If you thought you'd find it exciting."

"Jesus Christ! Honey, when?"

"When would you like me to try?"

"Baby... Don't get mad, but how about now?"

She pretended to hesitate. "All right."

"You going to dress?"

"What for? So I can get undressed down there?"

"Oh, shit! Let's go!"

They ran, hand in hand, to the corral. Smokey was restless, and the 
moonlight shone on his great hard-on. Helen was totally confident the 
little donkey had mounted Olga at least once during the evening. He was 
becoming accustomed to human mates; he ought to board her for Art 
without urging. She climbed over the fence, Art close behind.

"The table?" he asked.

"I don't think so." She pretended to be uncertain and doubtful. "Being 
his first time, shouldn't we make it as natural as possible for him?"

"Well, that would be better, of course."

"Maybe if I get in the right position and back under him he'll get the 
idea."

"Holy Jesus!" Art breathed hard. "You're right. You've got a hell of a 
lot more guts than I knew!"

Helen dropped to all fours, walking awkwardly on hands and feet, her 
legs widely spread. She sidled under the donkey, bending her knees just 
enough to maneuver her pussy against the point of Smoke's cock. That 
hard head danced over her labia and settled at the rim of her cunt, and 
she pushed back upon it. She saw Smokey heave his forefeet into the air 
and waited breathlessly until he planted them on her back. To her 
relief, he was perfectly gentle, the touch of his hooves incredibly 
light. But his hindquarters made up for that restraint. He hammered his 
huge cock home in her with brutal blows, and she sagged with sick 
desire for his jism.

"Honey? Art!... "

"What?"

"Reach under me, honey. Get hold of my breasts. Do you know how to 
milk?"

"Hell, yes! But... ?

"Just get right in front of me. On your knees. Milk me, baby. Please! 
Milk my tits while Smokey fucks me."

"Oh, shit! What a fantastic broad! Okay!"

Art knelt before her. She gulped his cockhead into her mouth and sucked 
desperately while he milked her throbbing nipples and Smokey pumped his 
donkey-cock into her cunt. A wave of sheer bliss welled in her. 
'There's times,' she thought. 'There's times when everything's in the 
right place!'

