The Violated Virgin by Ward Fulton Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Slowly Suzanne opened her eyes and gazed around her bedroom. She

stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The early morning light

filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around her. For a

split second she began to smile, looking forward to another day; then

the memory of the experiences with Donald and Ted came flooding back,

swamping out the happy anticipation and replacing it with a tide of

renewed horror.

With great care, she lowered her hands to her crotch and felt her

mound, probing inside with her fingers where the still-tender folds of

flesh told her it had not been a dream. Her finger touched her

clitoris, and a hot sea of sensuality swept over her, reminding her of

Ted's penis as it penetrated her. She touched her clitoris again, and

once more the feeling gushed through her loins. She really wasn't hurt,

she told herself.

With a sigh, she relaxed, letting her fingers coax her sexuality into a

rising wave of ecstasy. Slowly she gripped the shaft of her clitoris,

massaging the end with her fingers while her passions rose, and she

began moving her hips slowly, her mind filled with the memory of Ted's

swollen organ plunging in and out of her vagina.

With her other hand she caressed her stomach, sliding up to her breasts

and tweaking the nipples gently, bringing them to a state of erection,

their hard little nubs so sensitive as her fingers brushed over them.

She drew saliva from her mouth and rubbed around her nipples, making

them slick and reminding her of the hungry mouth that had enclosed them

and the ravenous tongue that flicked back and forth, exciting her

beyond words.

In her mind she recalled the heavy breathing, the excited hiss of his

words as he muttered obscene comments on their union, and with each

"Fuck me, fuck me," she found her loins quivering with additional

eroticism as her finger rubbed quicker and quicker around her clitoris.

Her hips were moving faster now up and down, just the way they had when

she finally began getting with it and knew that Ted's massive phallus

was the first thing that had really brought her knowledge of true

satisfaction, a mind-blasting experience that shattered all her

previous ideas of ultimate ecstasy. Yes, she thought, it is good, this

is what I've always wanted; I've wanted to be taken, to be ravished, to

feel a man on top of me, doing whatever he wanted with my body, giving

himself all the sensations he could get from her hot, snapping cunt

that clung greedily around that magnificent shaft as it slid into her,

fitting so perfectly all the way into her vagina, its flat, wide head

titillating the opening of her womb.

Her fingers pinched harder at her nipples, and her fingers pushed

deeper into her canal, and in her mind it was Ted's organ there,

propelling her faster and faster towards her own climax. She felt her

insides begin to convulse, and her body was no longer heaving but

trembling, shaking from head to toe, and she stifled the urge to scream

out at the top of her voice, "Fuck me, you big-cocked stud, give it all

to me, every goddamn inch of that big thick wonderful thing, jam it

right up my cunt as far as you can and shoot your jism into me!"

She saw Ted's face above hers, and heard once more the giggling of his

brother, his face glued between her legs, watching every movement while

his hand manipulated his own throbbing cock. She could almost swear she

could smell his earthy, male odor around her, filling her nostrils with

extra stimulation. Then she felt her vagina quiver with its final

orgasm, and her finger seized her clitoris as her other hand squeezed

her breast and she felt her juices flowing and she cried out softly,

moaning and twisting on the bed as she felt herself being lifted high

up on a cloud of heavenly ecstasy. Then, just as she felt she had

reached the peak of her climax, she heard a voice, "Suzanne ... please

... please ..." and in her mind she saw the outline of a penis in the

dim moonlight, and it was Sam's voice ringing in her brain. Her mouth

opened and she screamed out, "Sam ... Sam." Then all images disappeared

from her imagination, and she opened her eyes to see the sun streaming

through the venetian blinds, striping the carpet with a bright glare.

She withdrew her hand from beneath the sheet and stared at her fingers,

still slick with the juices from her vagina. With a shudder she threw

back the covers and walked quickly to the bathroom, turning on the

shower and stepping into the stinging spray even before it had warmed

up. She closed her eyes and stood, her skin flinching beneath the

chilly stream, and only opened her eyes again as the warm water began.

In the distance she heard the clatter of heels on the stairs, and from

below on the street the scream of tires mingled with the blast from a

car horn. As she stepped out of the shower and began toweling herself,

she bit her lip and once again pictured Sam's face before her. "Oh,

Sam," she whispered, "Where are you, where are you?"

* * *

Suzanne found it difficult to concentrate on her classes that day.

Mechanically she went through the motions of greeting her friends, of

taking notes, of listening to her instructors, and eating a steerburger

and a Coke at Verne's for lunch. Yvonne was in the bar, playing pool

with Jeff, a young medical student whose youth and virile appeal had

given him quite a reputation around town as being a ladies' man.

Suzanne watched them both as they pranced around the pool table, Jeff

exhibiting a boyish enthusiasm for his prowess and Yvonne doing her

best Bette Davis impersonation as she studied each shot before lowering

her practiced eye to the pool cue and sent the ball lazily across the

green felt. Suzanne watched, thinking how their way of playing matched

their personalities. Jeff took a few seconds to decide, then shot fast

and hard, and usually made the pocket he aimed for; he probably picked

his sleeping partners the same way, Suzanne thought. Yvonne took her

time, considered all the angles, and then played slow and safe, her

ball usually trickling across the table and dropping in the pocket

almost as its momentum ran out. But then Yvonne was probably quite a

bit older than Jeff; or would it be better to say Jeff was quite a bit

younger than Yvonne? What difference did it make? It's not the age of

your men, Yvonne had said once, but how well they can age you. Suzanne

wondered how many years Jeff had put on Yvonne since they had met. She

knew they had been going together, at least that's what the campus

gossip had said. But then Jeff went with just about anyone; rumor had

it he had donated his penis to the Smithsonian Institute upon his death

to be enshrined as a national monument. After all, there were still

quite a number who hadn't seen it, let alone had the pleasure of its

company. Penis ... cock ... Suzanne shook her head and tried to finish

her steerburger, but found herself chewing without enjoyment; tasting

without taste. She pushed the plate away in disgust, staring at the

meat between the bun and again remembering another piece of meat she

had chewed on, a hard, throbbing member with a broad flat head, and

again Ted's obscene words rang in her ears.

Yvonne's husky guffaw echoed through the bar, and Jeff threw the pool

cue on the floor. His explosive "Shit!" caused several customers to

turn, look and grin. The regulars at Verne's were well used to Yvonne's

prowess at the pool table; her feigned concentration and naive approach

concealed a pool shark from way back. She picked up her glass of beer

and sashayed up to Suzanne.

"Well, darling, did you see, did you see?" she gloated, and then as

Jeff walked up behind her, his handsome face frowning, she added,

"You're really not mad at me, are you, baby?"

Jeff grinned at Suzanne, and slumped into a chair, sucking his teeth.

"Mad? At you?" He grunted, and winked at Suzanne. "It'll take more than

a pool game to get me mad."

Yvonne laughed loudly again, drained her glass, and rummaged in her

oversized purse for a cigarette.

"Well, you two be good," she said. "I have to run. See you later."

Suzanne sat, toying with her glass of Coke, conscious that Jeff's eyes

were fastened on her. Finally she looked at him almost defiantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he countered.

"I know you've been staring at me."

"Sure. I always stare at groovy chicks."

Suzanne flushed.

"I am not a groovy chick," she snapped, sorry for her words the moment

she uttered them; she knew she sounded pompous and puritanical.

Jeff laughed and stood up.

"You said it," he murmured, and wandered off back into the pool table

area of the bar.

Suzanne bit her lip and wanted to burst into tears. She knew how

idiotic she must have sounded; but she couldn't help it. She was

conscious of his sexuality across the table; she was aware of his

reputation, and something in her responded. She knew that she wanted

him, she wanted to find out if those rumors about his penis size were

true, she wanted him to fuck her. Fuck ... Fuck ... yes, she wanted

that. She wanted him to ...

With a toss of her head, she rose and made her way quickly out of the

bar, knowing that if she stayed she might either burst into tears or

spend the afternoon, get drunk and go home with Jeff and ...

Her mind was a mixture of frustration and self-loathing as she walked

up Woodward Avenue and turned down Forest Avenue to the campus,

suddenly realizing that unless she hurried she would be late for her

sociology class. Damn. What was wrong with her today? She knew what was

wrong, and the slight tenderness in her crotch reminded her with every

step she took. Oh, God, what if those little bastards came back?

* * *

She sat through class hardly hearing a word, her mind filled with the

memory of the night before. Ted's words again rang in her ears: "You're

a good lay. Good enough for a second helping." Did he mean that, or was

he just trying to scare her? She finally decided he was only trying to

frighten her enough to keep her mouth shut; obviously they wouldn't be

back. It had been one of those rare opportunities, and even they would

realize that she wouldn't even open the door to them again. So it was

just an experience; and even though her ravenous mounting sexuality

kept hinting that it had been wonderful, that she had felt it was

something she would want again and again, she deeply regretted that it

hadn't been Sam who bad been the first. She had always wanted to go to

her marriage bed a virgin; now it was impossible. She'd have to make up

some story for Sam; maybe she could tell him she'd done a lot of

horseback riding and broken her hymen that way. Or maybe at gym class,

or riding a bicycle. No, he'd never believe that. Or would he? She knew

Sam loved her; at least, she felt he did. Oh, please, let him love me.

I need him so much. Sam ... Sam ...

"Suzanne, is something wrong?"

She looked up to see her instructor standing next to her, a look of

concern on his kindly face. She started, and then realized the class

was empty, and she had been sitting there, tears streaming down her

face, unaware that the others had left. Embarrassedly she wiped her

cheeks, tried to smile, and stumbled to her feet.

"No, no, nothing," she said quietly. "I'm all right. Honest. I was just

..." She paused, and then fled from the room.

She hurried back to the apartment, and climbed the stairs with her

pulse racing. She knew Donald and Ted would be waiting outside her

door; she knew it. She stared as she turned the top of the stairs and

saw the empty hallway. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door,

entered, and locked it behind her; then she collapsed into a chair and

sobbed for ten minutes.

She finally composed herself, went to the bathroom and washed her face.

She stared at herself in the mirror and tried to smile. She was being

ridiculous, she knew; nothing could change what had happened, and she

was just thankful that she had not suffered any grievous harm. She

remembered reading of rape cases where the woman was beaten, her face

scarred and her body slashed; at least all they did was have their way

sexually, and looking back, she knew it hadn't been as bad as she had

thought at the time. She knew she had enjoyed it, really and truly

enjoyed the act; but then she knew that was only normal. After all,

what girl wouldn't enjoy having intercourse with a young man as well

endowed as Ted? Any young man, for that matter.

She patted her face dry, put on some lipstick, combed her hair, and

decided that she was feeling much better. She went into the living

room, got out her notes, and began studying.

She had her writings about the family she had been studying, Donald's

family, Ted's family; oh, God, how could she possibly continue on that

subject? Every time she thought about it, she would remember. Maybe the

best thing would be to destroy that project and start another. There

were plenty of families in the area that she could investigate without

being plagued with unpleasant memories.

She was just about to rip the pages into pieces and put them in the

wastebasket when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and her

heart jumped. She knew those footsteps; they had the youthful ring of a

young boy, and she knew it could only be Donald. Petrified, she froze

at the desk, waiting.

The footsteps grew louder, and then stopped outside her door. A second

later, the gentle knock sounded like a thunderclap to her ears. She

dropped her pencil and whirled around in her chair, facing the door.

Her heart was beating unnaturally loud, and her hands began to tremble.

She knew if she remained quiet, he would probably go away; but what if

he had been watching the building and had seen her come in? What if he

knew she was there? He might continue banging on her door and there

might be a scene, and he might say something which ... Oh, God.

"Who is it?" Her voice was nervous and quavering.

There was a second of silence, and then she heard Donald's voice.

"It's me, Donald. I want to talk to you."

"Go away."

"Please, Suzanne. I have to talk to you. It's important."

What on earth could there be so important to this boy? She knew it was

a trick to get her to open the door.

"Donald, you go away and leave me alone or I'll call the police."

She heard him laugh softly.

"You wouldn't do that; you know that. Come on, I mean it, Suzanne. I

got something to tell you."

She rose from the desk and walked over to the door, pausing a moment,

her handle on the knob. She could hear his heavy breathing on the other

side.

"What is it? You can tell me from there."

"No, I want to come in and talk to you. I want to tell you how sorry I

am about what happened."

There was a note of contrition in his voice, and she pictured his

fresh, youthful face, his large innocent eyes. Maybe he did want to

talk; maybe he was sorry.

"All right, Donald, but if there's any trouble, I'm going to call the

police. I mean it."

There was a click as she unlocked the door, turned the handle and

pulled. Donald was standing outside, and as their eyes met, she saw

that he must be sorry; there was an expression of abject sorrow on his

young face.

"Come in."

Slowly he walked in; she shut the door, and stood staring at him,

somewhat defiantly. He shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly,

and grinned at her.

"Well, what do you want to talk about, Donald?"

He moved over to the couch and looked at her.

"You mind if I sit down?"

She shook her head and walked over to the large chair and slowly sat

down, staring at him curiously.

"I want to say I'm sorry about yesterday," Donald began, looking down

at the floor, and playing with his hands. "It was Ted, you know that,

don't you? He's a real horny one, and once he gets going, nothing stops

him."

Suzanne sniffed. "Obviously you've been with him before when he's ..."

She paused, not wanting to say the words.

He nodded. "Sure. We've screwed girls together before, but he always

starts it. He's been around longer'n I have, and I really don't think

about it as much as he does. He told me that's all he likes to do: fuck

girls. I guess he does it every day."

"And what about you?"

Donald grinned. "I do it now and then, when I can."

"When you can," Suzanne repeated the words, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Why don't you admit you screw around just as much as your brother?

I've heard stories, and I think they're true. All you kids in this

neighborhood do is screw. No wonder there are so many little bastards

running around."

She amazed herself at the venom in her voice. But she felt if she

showed him she was still angry, he might not try anything; or did she

really want him to try something again?

Donald looked up at her and smiled.

"I know you're mad, and I don't blame you. But I did want you to know I

still like you a lot, and I'm sorry. Can we still be friends? Can I

still come up and help you sometimes?"

Suzanne's eyes widened.

"Still be friends? What do you mean? You're goddamn lucky I haven't

called the police and had you and you brother thrown in jail. No,

Donald, I think you'd better leave now, and don't bother to come back."

Donald's eyebrows rose slightly, and his mouth curled into a sneer.

"Don't be that way, Suzanne. I said I was sorry."

"Well, saying you're sorry doesn't help any. And I know if you keep

coming around, maybe your brother will, too, and then ..." Suzanne's

words trailed off, and she became conscious of Donald's gaze, shifting

from her face down to her breasts and over her body. She could sense

the aura of desire in his manner, and she recognized the look on his

face. "Donald, I mean it. I want you to go now."

His eyes came back and fastened on hers, very steadily. It was a most

mature look for a young boy, and a very knowing look.

"You don't want me to go, you know that, Suzanne. And I don't want to.

I want to stay here with you." He rose quickly and came across,

kneeling in front of her, and staring up at her earnestly. "Please,

Suzanne, I like you a lot, I really do. I don't want you to think I'm

real bad or anything." He put out his hand and touched hers.

Suzanne felt a prickle of apprehension, but at the same time she felt a

demanding warmth flood her groin. The boy's closeness, his sexuality,

his earnestness, all combined to arouse her and bring back the memory

of the day before, not with shame or fear, but with perverse desire.

She remembered his penis, jutting out from his pants, almost as large

as his brother's.

"Donald." Her voice was weak, and she began trembling. "Donald, please

go. Now."

His hand gripped hers more strongly, and his other hand came up on her

knee.

"Suzanne, I don't want to go. Please let me stay here."

With a sudden movement, he raised up, brought his head forward, and

kissed her on the lips before she could move away. The softness of his

skin against hers, his male animal smell, his forceful approach, all

this and much more swept the final vestige of resistance away. She

didn't have to say anything; the boy knew.

Still on his knees, he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her

to him, embracing her and kissing her passionately, his tongue forcing

itself between her lips. She felt the sensuous warmth of his chest

against her breasts and his hands gripping her tightly. His mouth

rubbed back and forth over her own, and she felt her passions rising to

fever pitch. Desperately, she broke away.

"No, Donald, no. This is ridiculous."

He looked at her for a moment, his mouth quivering.

"Ridiculous? Ain't nothin' ridiculous about me wanting you. I want some

of the same stuff Ted got yesterday." His eyes flamed, and he bent his

head down to hers, forcing his mouth against her lips and pushing her

head back violently while his hands held her tightly. Suzanne felt a

wave of nausea rise, to be quickly replaced by her bubbling desire, the

slow surge of wetness in her vagina and the trembling in her loins. Oh,

God, it was going to happen again; she mustn't let it. She mustn't. But

stronger than that, her sexuality screamed out: Yes, yes, I want it, I

want this boy with his strong, pulsating cock pushed right up into me.

I want it.

Desperately she beat on his back with her fists, and then realized how

strong he was. His muscular arms held her firmly, and his chest was

pushing against her breasts, rubbing her nipples into hardness. Finally

he released her and stared into her eyes with a mixture of warmth and

defiance.

"Okay, who's kidding who?" he said softly, taking her hand and pulling

it down to his crotch where his rising hardness told her he was almost

ready; and within her heart, she knew she was never more ready.

His fingers caressed her breast, and she sat immobile, hardly believing

what was happening, and numbly aware that her own desires were

screaming out for the same thing he was after.

"You gonna get undressed so we can do it proper?"

The impact of his words brought her plummeting back to reality. She

stared at him for a second, and then quickly pushed him backwards and

rose to her feet, making a rush for the front door. Her hand was on the

handle when she felt his fingers close around her ankle and jerk her

backwards viciously. She tripped and fell, breaking her fall with her

arm. A stab of pain shot through her, and she whimpered.

He was on top of her in a flash, and his weight pinned her down. His

mouth began biting her neck and her ears while his hips ground his

hardening sex into her. Through their clothes she could feel its

demanding pressure against her vulva.

"Donald, please, please, oh, God, no, not again."

He laughed softly and then rolled off her, staring into her eyes with

an expression which she took to be a marginal glimmer of tenderness.

"You know you want it, baby, just like I do. Quit horsing around. We

don't have time for all that shit."

"What do you mean, we don't have time?"

There was something in his tone that made her instantly suspicious.

"We don't have time. I have to get home."

"Well, go, then. Go now, and leave me alone."

His hand shot out and slid up the inside of her thigh, and his fingers

poked through her underwear into her canal. Electric tingles suffused

her body, and she shuddered.

The next moment, his hands had seized her panties, and with a strong

tug he had pulled them down from her waist, and she felt the air fan

against her naked crotch. His other hand fumbled with his fly, and the

noise of his zipper sounded like trumpets of doom. As if in a

nightmare, Suzanne watched as his sex sprang out of his pants, thick,

throbbing and ready for action.

"Okay, baby, spread those legs. I'm coming in."

His weight pinned her to the floor, and she gasped as his chest pressed

hard against her breasts, and she felt the warm rod of his organ push

between her legs, sliding up towards its goal.

Her arms tried to beat against him, but the rising strength of her own

desires sapped her energy. Helplessly she relaxed as she felt the end

of his penis touch her, penetrate and then slide all the way into her

vagina. He sucked his breath in and moaned.

"Oooh, good pussy," he said softly. "Now start gettin' with it, bitch.

You're gonna fuck."

He began moving his hips, driving his organ in and out of her

violently, and with each thrust she felt her clitoris tingle and her

loins respond. Almost automatically she began undulating her hips,

gripping his shaft as it entered her, feeling its thickness send chills

of delight all the way through her body. As his broad head hit bottom,

she felt it at the opening to her womb. He fit absolutely perfectly;

they blended their bodies and everything was right.

"Yes, yes," Suzanne heard herself crying out, "yes, give it to me; give

me all you've got, you wonderful sexy boy. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Her hands clawed at his back, tearing at his thin shirt and leaving

trails across his white skin. His mouth was chewing at her neck, his

tongue licking across her, sending more erotic thrills through her.

Hardly conscious of what she was doing, she undid her blouse and pulled

her bra down, letting her breasts flop out.

"Suck them, suck them," she moaned. "Bite them."

Donald needed no urging. His rough sexuality guided him. His teeth

closed around the end of one nipple, biting, and Suzanne felt the stab

of pain blended with exquisite pleasure.

"More, more," she cried out, and she heard a suppressed giggle from him

as he responded. Vaguely she heard the tearing of cloth, and then

looked down to see that his hands had ripped off her blouse, her bra,

her skirt. The thin material had given way beneath his muscular arms,

and she was lying naked under him, her breasts flopping from side to

side with each movement of her body, and her crotch pinned by his

penis, thrusting in and out with sublime regularity. She stared down.

He had raised himself up on his arms, and was looking at his penis as

it entered and withdrew. It was a beautiful organ, she thought; not as

thick as Ted's, but prettier. It was smooth and white, without any

veins, just a solid shaft that was slick and erotic looking, sliding in

and out of her oozing, slippery cunt. For a split second, she realized

that she had more hair in her bush than he had around his organ. Oh,

the infinite appeal of that young, lithe body with its large cock

fucking her!

"More, more," she cried out, lifting her legs and wrapping them around

his waist, allowing him deeper penetration. His forehead was beaded

with sweat, and she noticed his male musky odor had grown stronger. She

made a passing mental note to record in her research that the poorer

classes do not use deodorants. So much the better, she thought evilly;

that smell excited her to an even greater degree. She felt she was

being ravished by some animal, a primitive male, without regard for

anything but the sex.

"Fuck, fuck," she whispered, almost to herself, and Donald grunted in

response as he continued sucking and chewing on her breasts, his body

once more lying atop her own, their hips moving together in sensuous

rhythm, each gaining the most from the act.

Suzanne felt her vagina tingling, heating up; she felt hotter than she

had ever felt before, and deep within her she felt the rise of her

final massive convulsion that told her she was about to experience her

first climax. Her hands clawed his back with greater intensity, and she

began moaning loudly.

Then with a flash of light in her eyes she tightened around his shaft,

gripping it within her. He groaned and wriggled, and then she felt his

prick expand, and within the warm rush of his seed blended with her own

juices.

"Jeez, I'm there, I'm there," he cried out.

"Come, come."

Her body seemed to lift off the floor; she was no longer aware of the

hard surface that had been rubbing against her back. She was no longer

conscious of where she was, what was happening. She only knew the

consummate ecstasy that spread through every part of her body, her own

orgasm blending with that of the boy whose hard spurting prick inside

her was giving him the same ultimate thrill that she experienced.

Slowly their bodies subsided, and they lay together on the floor.

Donald's hands were stroking her hair, and she could feel his cock

slowly getting soft and slipping out of her. She stared at him, and he

smiled at her warmly.

"That was the best I've ever had," he murmured, all the roughness,

violence and antagonism gone from his voice. He sounded like a small

boy who had just been given some candy.

Suzanne rolled over on her stomach and slowly got to her feet, her torn

clothes hanging down forlornly. With an impatient gesture, she pulled

them off and stood naked. Donald's eyes ran over her appreciatively.

"You've got a groovy body," he commented.

"Thanks," she said briefly, and walked into the bathroom, reaching

behind the door for her robe. She saw her reflection in the mirror and

paused a moment; then she realized she wanted to urinate, and closed

the door and sat down on the commode. A few minutes later, she flushed

the toilet, tied the robe around her and opened the bathroom door.

"Donald ..." she began, and then her blood froze as she saw Donald

sitting in the chair, and opposite him on the couch, Ted, grinning from

ear to ear, sitting beside a young Negro boy.

"Well, well, looks like you're all ready for action," said Ted. "Come

here, Suzanne, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Clayton, say hello

to the best goddamn lay in town."

The Negro youth grinned, revealing a set of beautiful teeth.

"Hi," he said, his voice deep and rich, sounding more like a mature man

than the eighteen-year-old he obviously was.

Suzanne stared at Donald, and her eyes were icy.

"Donald ..." she began, but he cut her short.

"I didn't know they were coming, Suzanne, honest," he said, and she

knew he wasn't lying.

"What's the difference? We're here," said Ted, rising and walking

towards her. She took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the

door, but not quick enough. Ted's foot shot out and he pushed the door

back, grabbing Suzanne's arm, pulling her out into the living room. Her

robe gaped open, and Clayton gave a low whistle.

"Now that's what I call eatin' stuff," he muttered. "Come over here,

baby."

Ted pushed her forward, and she whirled on him.

"If you don't leave right now, I'm going to scream," she said, her

voice rising shakily.

"You know you won't," said Ted lazily. "What's it gonna look like with

three of us up here? And if the cops come, I'll say you asked us up for

a blowjob at a buck apiece."

Suzanne laughed contemptuously. "Try it," she said defiantly. "Any

cop'd know I wouldn't ask a colored boy up to my apartment."

Clayton's face broke into a knowing grin.

"Well, well, we got a Grosse Pointe bigot here," he drawled.

"Whatsamatter with colored folk? You afraid it'll rub off? It doesn't,

I promise you. You'll be just as clean afterwards as before, but maybe

not so pure."

He laughed coarsely and bounded across the room, seizing her by the arm

and pulling her body to his. She only realized then how tall he was,

and how powerful. His arms closed around her, and she felt his wide,

thick lips close around her mouth, and her stomach heaved. She was

conscious of his odor, the same masculine smell that she found

stimulating on Ted and Donald, but more intense, more musky. Her head

reeled, and she struggled ineffectually. His hands tore at her robe,

and she felt it slip off her shoulder and then fall away. His lips

slipped down to her shoulder and licked her passionately, while his

hands searched for her breasts and clung. She whimpered and thought she

was going to faint. That was it! Her mind suddenly grasped at straws.

If she fainted, they'd probably get seared and leave.

Suzanne let her body go limp, a dead weight, and she felt his frame

stiffen as his arms held her. She kept her eyes closed and remained

silent.

"The chick's passed out," said Clayton, lowering her to the floor and

letting her body collapse full length at his feet.

Ted laughed. "No matter," he said. "She's still got that cunt. Let's

take her in turns. Hey ..." He laughed again, more loudly. "Even

better. You fuck her in front, and I'll cornhole her at the same time.

Real freaky."

"Crazy, man," said Clayton. "Come on, let's get with it."

She heard Donald's voice.

"Hey, no, man, that ain't right ..." he began, and Ted's voice cut

through the air like a pistol shot.

"Shut up!"

"I won't," said Donald. "She's a groovy girl, and that's no fair. Wait

till she can fuck us proper. It ain't no fun fucking if she isn't with

it."

Clayton chuckled and began undressing.

"She'll get with it once she feels my meat," he said. "You know I got

the biggest meat in town."

Suzanne opened her eyes and stared terrified at the young men. Clayton

had his shirt off and was just lowering his trousers, Ted's pants were

off, and he was taking off his shirt. His sex was half-hard and

swinging between his legs.

"Ah, she's gettin' with it," said Clayton. "I guess she was playin'

possum."

"Oh, no," Suzanne breathed. "Please. Donald ..." She looked at Donald,

who was in the process of undressing. "Donald ... help me!"

"Help you," laughed Ted. "He's gonna fuck you. Or have you fucked her

already?"

"I ... we did it once," Donald mumbled, and Suzanne knew that he was

not altogether agreeing with his brother's attitude. "But take it easy

with her. She's a nice girl."

Clayton's clothes were completely off, and he stood over Suzanne,

waving his penis at her.

"Sure she's a nice girl, and all nice girls want some black cock up

their pussy," he said. "Ever see one this big, little Miss Grosse

Pointe?"

She stared fascinated at the organ, which slowly began rising to its

full height. She knew that Ted's penis was big, but Clayton's exceeded

his by at least two inches, and it was much thicker. She could hardly

believe it, watching the dark brown shaft throb and expand in the

colored boy's hand as he manipulated the foreskin up and down, exposing

the dark purplish head, already sticky with lube that oozed from the

large slit across the end. It was a frightening sight, and her eyes

remained on his crotch, almost unable to believe what they saw.

"Please, please," she sobbed, and Clayton's laugh echoed round the

room.

"She's pleading for it," be said. "Though mebbe that's not what she's

really cryin' about."

He dropped to his knees, pulled her legs apart roughly, and crawled

forward, lowering his penis until the end of it was touching her

stomach, just above her bush. With his hand, he moved the shaft back

and forth across her skin, leaving a wet trail of lube behind it.

"That feel good?" asked Clayton, chuckling evilly.

Suzanne looked over at Ted and Donald, who were standing, watching, and

playing with their penises at the same time. Ted saw her and moved

forward, dropping to his knees above her head, and lowering his prick

towards her mouth.

"Suck, bitch, suck it good," he commanded, and she felt the end of it

on her lips. Stubbornly she kept her mouth shut, and then she felt the

sharp sting of his hand as it descended on her cheek. "I said, suck it,

goddamn," he swore, and she opened her mouth and he pushed his prick

into her. Again she tasted his flesh, hot and throbbing, and she closed

her lips around the head, sucking hard, and flicking her tongue across

the end, pushing into the slit and tasting the lube. "That's more like

it," said Ted, easing himself into a better position to thrust his

organ in and out of her mouth.

Clayton had continued rubbing his prick across her skin, all around her

vaginal opening, down the inside of her thighs, and she felt her

responses quickening, despite her terrible fear of him and the size of

his penis. Her vagina began oozing its juices once more, and she felt

herself wanting it, wanting to feel it slide into her the way Donald's

had slid in just earlier that afternoon.

But Clayton was playing a teasing, waiting game. He was in no hurry to

insert his organ; he preferred to play around, rub the end against her,

up and down her legs, and over her stomach, even across her breasts.

She felt the end of it touching her nipples, exciting them and making

them even harder than they were.

"Hey, Donald, you come here and suck her tits," Clayton said. "She's

blowin' Ted. You can suck her tits, and I'll let her have this meat.

I'm gettin' ready to feel her cunt wrap itself around, provided it can

take it, of course." He laughed coarsely again. Out of the corner of

her eye Suzanne saw Donald scooting forward, squatting beside her, one

hand on his penis, as he closed his mouth around her breast and began

sucking her nipple, running his tongue across it quickly.

Then she felt her legs being jerked wide apart and the rough coarse

skin of the Negro's thighs brush against her own soft white flesh as he

positioned himself and then lowered his hips until the end of his penis

was touching her vulva. His hands came forward and spread her lips. She

heard him whisper, "Oh, wowee, I cain't fuck that. Not yet. Gotta eat a

little first. Gotta taste that sweet white pussy."

His head descended, and she felt his thick lips and tongue push into

her flesh and his tongue lick up and down her clitoris, sending quivers

of delight through her loins. Up and down, in and out, all around, his

tongue knew exactly what it was doing.

Suzanne suddenly felt a perverse desire to match her tongue movements

with Clayton's, licking across Ted's penis in the same rhythm as the

colored boy was licking her clitoris. The undeniable sensual

titillation had engulfed her mind and body, and she gave herself over

to the sensations which prickled across her skin and tingled from every

nerve. She felt Donald's mouth licking her breasts while his hand

manipulated his penis between his thighs; why let that cock go to

waste? She reached out and pushed his own hand away, seizing the shaft

and squeezing it. She heard him moan, and his tongue licked more

furiously at her nipples. Her other hand pushed underneath Ted's

buttocks and began caressing his anus. She heard him laugh, and then

his voice broke the silence: "Yeah, baby, yeah!" And she sucked his

penis with renewed vigor as she felt Clayton's mouth servicing her

between her legs. Then suddenly Clayton raised up, and she looked over

at him, just as he lowered his hips and she felt the end of his shaft

enter her.

With a slow thrust, he pushed in, and she shuddered and gasped at the

thickness of his prick. It felt like her body was being ripped in two.

On and on he pushed, inch by inch, until his entire organ was enclosed

within her tight, quivering vagina. She gagged and pulled off Ted's

prick and cried out. "Oh, God, take it out, take it out." They all

laughed. "Go on, fuck her," Ted cried out, and Donald even joined in,

urging Clayton to action.

"I sure will," the colored boy said, and began moving his hips,

withdrawing his rod almost all the way out, then slamming it back in

again with a force that almost drove the breath out of Suzanne's body.

She squirmed and cried out, and they all laughed. Faster and faster he

went, and it felt like with every thrust his massive shaft grew thicker

and bigger.

"You almost there?" asked Ted; and Clayton grunted in what sounded like

an affirmative.

"Okay, we all come together," said Ted, grabbing Suzanne's head and

pushing his penis into her mouth again. "Suck, bitch, and jerk off

Donald. Let's all shoot into her."

Clayton's movements, together with his groaning and his hands around

her buttocks, were almost more than Suzanne could bear. Her vagina felt

numb, but deep inside her she still experienced the fantastic feelings

that came from the harsh massage of her clitoris and the rubbing of the

thick organ inside her vagina.

She sucked Ted's cock, feeling it flex and throb with each manipulation

of her mouth and her tongue. In her hand Donald's penis was rock-hard,

and he was moaning, his mouth biting on her nipples harder and harder.

Clayton suddenly cried out, and she felt his cock plunge deep into her.

He held it there, and she could feel the hot flood of his jism within

her, running down and out of her crack. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he

cried, and at that second, Ted pushed his shaft in until it jammed

against the back of her throat, and she felt him spurt and tasted the

hot salty come on her tongue. She gulped and swallowed, taking it all

while her cunt enclosed the long, thick black meat within her, spurting

its seed deep into her. Ted's penis began softening, and he pulled it

out of her mouth and eased back on his buttocks, watching.

"You there yet?" he asked Donald, who was still moving his hips

frantically.

"Almost," he gasped.

"Fuck her between the tits," shouted Ted, and Donald swung his legs

across Suzanne, sitting on her stomach and pushing her breasts together

around his penis just as it flexed and shot, the spurts of white liquid

shooting across her chin and cheek and dripping down her neck. He

groaned, and she heard Ted laugh. His hand came out and rubbed the come

all over her mouth and nose.

"Taste it, smell it, you bitch," he said. "Good, huh?"

She almost gagged.

"Lick it off your lips, lick it!"

Almost in a dream, she put out her tongue and licked the thick salty

cream off her lips, tasted it, and then swallowed.

Clayton was still inside her, his penis feeling just as hard and thick

as it had before.

"You through?" Ted asked, and Clayton nodded.

"I'm through but I ain't finished," he said with a grin, "That was only

the first time."

He went on moving his hips, and she felt his penis inside her, pressing

her folds of flesh aside as it cruelly penetrated her. "I'm gonna fuck

her dry," he said, laughing.

Donald climbed off and sat back, feeling his softening penis with his

hand, while Clayton continued fucking her. Ted had his penis in his

hand, playing with it.

"Go, man, go," Ted said. "Bet you can't come again in five minutes."

"You're on, feller," was the calm reply, and the black body flexed and

the hips began pumping in and out. His lips came down around Suzanne's

breasts, licking the nipples sensuously. She felt her vagina respond.

She knew nothing turned her on more than having her breasts sucked, and

the way Clayton did it was the best ever. She twisted and turned, and

then melded her movements with his until they were rocking back and

forth on the floor, the sweat streaming off their bodies as the groins

gripped together, joined cock-to-cunt, pushing them both towards

another climax.

"Look at that black motherfucker," said Ted. "He sure can fuck."

On and on, and Suzanne found herself slipping away from reality. Her

mind seemed to whirl, and as her hands went around the smooth black

skin, holding him close, dragging his mouth down to her own, she felt

consciousness fading. Just as Clayton's penis discharged into her for

the second time, she went limp in his arms. He completed his climax and

raised up, looking down at her. His eyes moved over to Ted and Donald.

"I done fucked her dry," he said, feeling his penis tenderly. "I'll bet

her pussy's raw."

"She's fainted," said Donald, bending closer. "Is she all right?"

"Sure she is," snapped Ted, bending over Suzanne and slapping her

cheeks. She mumbled and opened her eyes.

"See, she was jest takin' a rest," Clayton laughed. He moved away and

stood up, "You shouldn't sleep, chicky-baby. We've got more fucking for

you."

Suzanne moaned and closed her eyes, feeling that she was about to faint

again.

"I'll wake her up," said Ted, standing up, and holding his penis so

that it pointed to her face. A moment later, a stream of urine splashed

down over her, and she shuddered, screamed and scrambled away across

the floor, the loud, coarse laughter of the boys ringing in her ears.

"Get out, get out," she cried, collapsing on the floor, and sobbing

into her hands. "Haven't you done enough?"

They began collecting their clothes and getting dressed.

"No, we ain't," said Clayton. "Ted was right. You're good pussy, and I

aim to come back for some more. How 'bout you guys?"

"Sure, we'll be back," said Ted.

"When is you receiving?" asked Clayton with exaggerated politeness.

Suzanne stared up at him, her eyes filled with loathing.

"Get out," she spat.

Clayton laughed, and after they had dressed, they all moved to the

door.

"Bye now," said Ted. "And remember, don't you try and say nothin' to no

one. Now it's three against one, and who do you think they'll believe?"

Suzanne stared across. Ted's face was scowling at her; Clayton's held a

superior look of amusement; only Donald seemed to have some semblance

of compassion for her.

And then they were gone, leaving her alone and naked on the floor, her

vagina throbbing and tender, her breasts scarred with teeth marks, and

her neck aching and her mouth swollen. She climbed shakily to her feet

and went into the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror and

sat down on the edge of the bath, so filled with self-loathing and

guilt that she hadn't the energy to cry.