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Coventry Park Pt. 01

By: WritersFriend



Chapter 1 

"Mommy, are you okay?" The voice of Connie's six-year-old son Jason sang through the locked bedroom door. 

Connie was lying on her side on the bed, her white and yellow floral sundress bunched around her waist. I was spooned in behind her, plowing her pussy doggy-style. She had managed to keep her moans to a background lull, but she couldn't mask the creaking of the bedsprings or the squishy sounds her cunt was making. 

A hushed "Oh God!" flew off her lips, followed by "Yes, honey, Mommy's fine." 

With her newfound fear of getting caught, Connie's pussy squeezed my cock like an inflated blood-pressure cuff. She grabbed my wrists and tried to pry my hands off her waist, but I was too close to stop. I pushed my palms on her shoulders, rolled her onto her belly, and climbed aboard. 

"What are you and Uncle Ted doing in there?" Jason asked. 

I wasn't really Jason's uncle. I wasn't anyone's uncle. All the kids in Coventry Park called me Uncle Ted. Good ol' trustworthy Uncle Ted. 

"We're fixing the bed, honey," Connie called back. 

Nice recovery, Connie, I thought. A plausible excuse for the bed groaning like a rusty freighter being hauled from the ocean floor. 

"Oh, okay," Jason said. "Can I go over to Tommy's?" 

"Yes, dear." 

Tommy was the next-door neighbor kid, the son of Chuck and Livvy Bresman. My affair with Livvy had ended six months earlier, a week before I'd bedded Connie. 

The constriction of Connie's pussy around my dick was a pleasant surprise. After having two kids she was usually a bit on the sloppy side. Her ass was always nice and tight, though, and she never failed to gobble my cum like a hungry street urchin. She had never let her husband come in her mouth, she'd told me. In fact, she claimed she had only performed fellatio on him once. With me she enjoyed a steady diet of man-sauce, at least twice a week. 

Connie's moans ratcheted up a notch as I punched my prick harder up her hole. I clamped my hand over her mouth, rested my weight on her back, and with her round butt molded to my groin, I gave her everything I had. Her breathing turned choppy and her body began to shimmy. With one last lurch I buried my dick inside her and exploded, bathing her womb with what felt like an aquarium-load of goo. She came, too, her ass cheeks jiggling in a series of mini-convulsions. 

Then the bitch bit my hand. 

"Shit!" I said, holding it up to my face. Two deep ruts were chomped into the flesh. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" 

Connie jabbed her finger toward the door. "Shhh! Jasmine." 

Jasmine was Connie and Gary's seven-year-old daughter. I had forgotten that the girl was in the house. 

I knew it wasn't smart screwing Connie in her bedroom with her children home for the summer, but our relationship had grown dreary and any kind of danger provided some much-needed juice. Connie had been okay with it too at first, but lately she seemed more and more uptight. It didn't matter; our affair was nearing its end. Six months was close to the longest tryst I'd had with any of the wives in Coventry Park. I still had my thing with Crystal to fall back on. Crystal and Larry Taylor were the only African-American couple in our otherwise whitebread neighborhood. 

The bedroom community of Coventry Park, Illinois, was an easy fifteen-mile commute to the city of Gantry, where most of the residents worked. I ventured to Gantry seldom. There was no need to; I worked from home, Coventry Park had a reasonable grocery store, and I did all my banking and stock trades over the Internet. I'd had a bit of success several years earlier in getting a novel published. It was a minor mystery-thriller—a bit formulaic, truth be told—but it had a good hardcover run and went to a second printing in paperback. I invested my modest earnings in the stock market, loading up on tech shares and selling them at the height of the dot-com boom. Lucky for me. My second novel was greeted by the critics and readers like a Muslim at a bar mitzvah. My publisher didn't offer me another deal, so I started my third book on spec. A quarter of the way through it my well ran dry. Writer's block is an understatement; my mind clogged up like a catch basin after a monsoon. Deciding I needed a change of venue, I moved from Chicago to Coventry Park and bought a four-level split. Almost all my neighbors were married couples with kids. 

I rested on Connie's prostrate body, trying to catch my breath. My cock slithered from her pussy, coaxing out a huge glob of sperm. I was still wearing my shirt, and got up to find my pants. Connie must have felt the cum bubbling out of her cooze, because she launched off the bed and tore up the sheets. A dark stain of semen had bled into the powder-blue mattress. 

"Shit!" she said. "How am I going to explain this to Gary?" 

I figured it was now or never. "Gary, Gary, Gary! That's all you talk about anymore. What about us? I want you to leave him. I want you to get a divorce." 

Connie plopped down on the bed and sank her face in her hands. Her long sandy hair closed around it like curtains. "I can't, Ted. Don't do this again. I told you, I won't break up this family." Her eyes lifted up to mine. I could see the gears turning behind them. "This is getting so...so fucking complicated. I think we need to end it." 

I gave her my devastated look. "But—" 

She flapped her hand in the air. "No, I've made up my mind. This has to stop." 

I picked my pants up off the floor and looked out the south-side bay window. Connie's daughter Jasmine was staring at my dick the way she might a puppy in a pet-shop window. What could I do? I gave her a lopsided smile and hoped she wouldn't be too traumatized...and that she wouldn't tell her father. 

"Do you think this is funny?" Connie said, glaring at me. 

My face went into meltdown again. "No, I—" 

"Maybe you'd better leave, Ted." 

With a melancholy nod I pulled on my pants and shoes and headed for the front door. I stepped outside to a glorious early-July afternoon. The sun was a mass of gold in the sky, and a family of yellow finches fluttered in the crabapple tree in front of the house. 

As I pointed myself for home, the smirk smoldering on my lips ignited into a big grin. It was time for a fresh start. 

Chapter 2 

Connie and Gary Macmillan lived four houses south of me. Between our homes were those of Chuck and Livvy Bresman and Crystal and Larry Taylor, our token black couple. The neighbors to my immediate south had just moved in and I hadn't had a chance to meet them yet. However, I had sneaked a peek at the wife through my second-floor bedroom window on moving day. Mid to late twenties, short auburn hair, cantaloupe-size breasts squeezed into a lime-green tube top, long lean legs stretching down from frayed denim cut-offs. Yummy. There would be time enough to get to know her later, I thought. With Connie and Livvy pissed at me, and Crystal still sharing my bed, things were glitchy enough without introducing another variable. 

In my living room I punched *67 into the telephone pad followed by Crystal's number. I didn't want Larry to know I'd called. He was already suspicious enough, and not just because I was boffing his wife. Crystal hadn't fallen into my lap as easily as Livvy and Connie. I'd had to work at it, devise a plan. It had been worth it. I had never experienced a black woman before Crystal, and she had shown me more than a few things about wild, uninhibited jungle sex. Larry was a fool to have given her reason to stray, even if I had set it up myself. 

Crystal answered the phone on the third ring, and I said, "Hey, baby, what's happening?" I could almost hear her smiling at the other end. 

"I thought you had to work today?" she said. 

"I do. I'm taking a break." 

"I saw you coming from the Macmillans." 

Oops. "I had to borrow a reference book from Gary. Good writing is based on good research, you know." 

"What kind of books do you write again?" 

"Mysteries," I lied. My sole output anymore was porn stories, which I scribbled for peanuts for a couple of Internet sites. The research part was true, though. 

"Why don't you come over for a swim?" I said. My split-level boasted a twenty-by-forty-foot inground pool in the backyard. "Wear that little suit I like." 

"Beast!" she said. 

"Moo!" 

Crystal laughed. "Give me ten minutes." 

"Okay, but no more." I hung up the phone and sank back in my chair, congratulating myself on the ingenuity that had gone into creating this situation. 

Crystal's husband Larry was a big man—six-foot-four and over two hundred and fifty pounds. He had played football in college but blew out a knee, so after graduation he went into the sports promotion business—setting up celebrity banquets and signings and the like. A year earlier he had joined a firm in Gantry, bought a house in Coventry Park, and became an instant neighborhood hit with his A-list contacts. From the first day I met him I knew he had a roving eye. Whenever we were alone he would make some crude comment about this bitch or that. 

One afternoon he saw Alicia leaving my house and corralled me after to get the scoop. Women coming and going from my place wasn't unusual; I was single, able to date whomever I pleased. But I wasn't big on dating. Alicia was an escort, a high-priced one, but an escort all the same. I didn't tell Larry that. I let him think she was one of a countless bevy of beauties in my little black book. 

"Shee-it, man!" he said later, as we chugged beers around my pool. "That lady is hot stuff. You're one lucky dude." 

"You're pretty lucky yourself," I said, "having Crystal to come home to every night." 

He shrugged and made a face. "I suppose. But it gets stale after a while. You know, same old same old? Sometimes the stew needs a little spice." 

That was the hook I needed—Alicia. 

The next time I invited her over, I let Larry know she was coming and suggested he stop by. 

"Really?" he said. "That'd be great, man. Not that I—" 

"Of course not," I said. 

Alicia wore her tightest red dress, laughed at all of Larry's jokes, and took every opportunity to touch his hand or arm or thigh. When I suggested we go for a swim, Larry's eyes lit up like Fourth of July sparklers. Crystal was at her mother's for a few days so he had no one to report to. He went home to change and came back wearing black boxer-style swim trunks. He and I adjourned to the back deck, and when Alicia made her entrance through the glass patio doors, his eyes nearly blew from his skull. She wore the skimpiest pink string-bikini, the triangles over her nipples the size of matchbook covers, the thong a mere thread between her ass cheeks. She sashayed past us, dived into the pool, and came back up, her nipples half-inch prongs under her top. She cast Larry a seductive smile and said, "Come on in, boys. The water's great." 

Larry didn't need to be asked twice. He stood up, and I almost gasped. It looked like he had a bazooka hidden under his swim trunks. The black nylon was stretched out so far I thought it might explode. He walked over to the diving board and with an exaggerated bounce sprang high into the air and split the water headfirst. He emerged from the frothy wake, nappy curls shaking, and swam toward Alicia, who was standing in water up to her neck. Her arms encircled his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. For the next few minutes they frolicked and laughed like two school kids on the first day of summer camp. 

I watched, smiling, as Alicia played her little flirting games. But when Larry tried to kiss her she turned her head away. She was under strict orders: tease the stallion but don't breed him. When I thought Larry was sufficiently aroused, I fetched a pitcher of margaritas from the kitchen fridge and called out, "Refreshments!" Larry looked disappointed as Alicia climbed the ladder in front of him, her firm round buttocks tantalizing his nose. We sat on chaises and sipped the frothy green brew, and Alicia said, "Are we still going to the playoff game tomorrow?" 

"Absolutely," I said. "Is Mandy still on board?" 

"Yeah, she's excited. She's never been to a Bulls game." 

"You got Bulls playoff tickets?" Larry asked, wide-eyed. 

"Yeah," I said. "Hey, I never thought...I've got an extra one. Since Crystal's away, would you like to join us?" 

"Would I! When are you leaving?" 

"I'm picking up the girls in Gantry at five. That'll get us to Chicago around seven." 

"Great," Larry said. "I got Friday off." He rubbed his hands together. "Party time!" 

Chapter 3 

The next afternoon at four-thirty, Larry and I sped off to Gantry in my red Ford Explorer. Larry wore gray wool slacks and a black silk shirt open halfway down his chest, revealing a coal-colored mat of thick, curly hair. 

When we picked up the girls at Alicia's apartment, I saw that she had squeezed into a tight white dress that barely covered her crotch and displayed more tit than it concealed. Mandy had opted for a yellow halter top that showed off her flat tanned belly and the diamond stud in her navel. Her cream-colored, skin-tight capri pants molded to every mouth-watering contour of her ass and thighs and stopped halfway down her calves. She sat up front with me while Larry and Alicia snuggled in the back. I watched them in the rearview mirror as I drove. They made out like a couple of teenagers—kissing with tongues, Larry's big black hand under Alicia's dress, her small white hand mauling his cock through his pants. I didn't think they would last the two-hour drive to Chicago. 

To my surprise, we arrived at the United Center without incident and watched the Bulls clobber the Pistons. Larry and Alicia held hands the entire game, sipping beers, occasionally smooching. After the game we went to a club for a few drinks, and Larry and Alicia danced...sort of. It was more like a dry hump, with Larry squeezing Alicia's ass cheeks in his black monster mitts while she worked her leg up and down between his thighs. 

I said to Mandy, "Did Alicia fill you in?" 

She nodded, sipping her creamy pink drink through a cocktail straw. "Yeah. Everything's ready." 

"How many cameras?" 

"Six. One in each corner and two for close-ups." 

Larry and Alicia returned to the table and I checked my watch. "Shit. Look at the time. We should be heading back." 

Alicia's bottom lip curled in a pout. "Do we have to? It's still early." 

"I have an eight a.m. meeting in Gantry with a publisher," I said. "I can't miss it." 

Mandy gave me her own little-girl frown. "Come on, Ted, don't be a party-pooper." Her hand was under the table, no doubt on Larry's thigh. 

I held up my palms. "Girls!" 

"I don't have anything going on tomorrow," Larry said. "Why don't I show the ladies a good time tonight, and we can stay over and catch the train in the morning?" 

Alicia and Mandy started bouncing in their seats. 

"You don't mind?" I asked him. 

He draped his arms over the girls' shoulders. "Not at all. It's the least I can do for these pretty little things." 

"You girls okay with that?" 

"Yes, please, Daddy!" Alicia said, cracking a big smile. 

The little vixen. She knew that Daddy stuff got me going. 

"Okay," I said. "Be good." 

"We will," Mandy said, tonguing the end of her straw through a smirk. 

I gave both girls a peck on the cheek and left. 

*** 

The next afternoon around two, I was cutting my front lawn when a white FedEx van pulled into my driveway. I hadn't seen Larry yet, assumed he was still crashed out. I took the pasteboard envelope from the driver and went inside. In my excited state I had to fight with the tear-strip to get it open. Inside I found six mini-DVDs in jewel cases. I took them to the den, fired up the computer, and spent the rest of the day editing them on my hard drive. At three in the morning I burned the final version onto a regular DVD, went to bed, and masturbated myself to sleep. 

*** 

The next morning—Saturday—I drove to Gantry and dropped off the DVD at the FedEx office. 

At six that evening I saw Larry's silver Dodge Caravan pull into his driveway. When I went over to speak to him, he seemed a little put-offish. 

"How did it go the other night?" I asked. 

"Okay," he said, avoiding my eyes. 

"Did the girls behave themselves?" 

He gave me a funny look. "Sure." 

"When did you get home?" 

"What are you, a cop?" His anger was showing. 

I held up my hands. "Hey, no harm intended." 

"I rented two rooms at the Wyandotte. We caught the nine o'clock train yesterday morning, and I got home around noon." 

"Have fun?" I asked. 

A slow grin crawled onto his face. "You could say that." 

*** 

The next morning around eleven I saw Crystal's tan Toyota pull into her driveway. Standing at my upstairs bedroom window, I focused my binoculars on her tight round ass as she reached into the back seat for a small suitcase. She was twenty-seven years old and childless, though Larry had told me they were trying for a baby. She was wearing black stretch-pants and a white blouse with the top three buttons undone, revealing a luscious display of milk-chocolate cleavage. Her breasts weren't that big—maybe baseball-sized—but they looked very firm. Her whole body was trim and fit from the many hours she and Larry spent at the gym. 

As her cute fanny wiggled toward the front door, a FedEx truck pulled up. She accepted the package from the driver, looked at it strangely, then went in the house. 

Now it was a waiting game. 

I decided to give it three days. Unless I had misjudged her, I didn't think she would confront Larry directly. She was obviously the subservient one in the relationship, as shy and reserved as Larry was boisterous and outgoing. I figured she would let things simmer for a while, and then, when she needed release, I'd be there. 

Chapter 4 

Three days later, a Wednesday, I was watering my front flowerbeds when I saw Crystal checking her mailbox. I waved to her and she waved back, forcing a smile. I walked down the two houses that separated us while she waited on the front stoop. It was going to be a hot one. Only noon and already a sticky haze was forming. The dense smell of fresh-mowed grass lay thick in the air. 

"Hey," I said. 

"Hi, Ted," she replied. 

"How was the trip to your mom's?' 

"Good." Her eyes looked like they wanted to run away. 

"Everything okay?" 

"Sure. Why?" 

"I don't know. You seem...nervous or something." 

She didn't speak for a few seconds, then: "I guess I am a little depressed." 

"Want to talk about it?" 

She shrugged. 

"Sometimes it's good to get it out," I said. 

She didn't answer. 

"Listen, it's going to be a scorcher. Why don't you come over and relax with me around the pool? You look like you could use it." 

"It's nice of you to offer, Ted, but—" 

"Come on," I whined. 

She gave me a demure, closed-mouth smile. "Okay." 

"Half an hour?" 

"Sure." 

*** 

Thirty minutes later Crystal rang my doorbell. I was disappointed to find her wearing clothes instead of a swimsuit, even though the rolled cuffs of her beige cotton shorts revealed two mouth-watering bulges of dusky brown thigh. I glanced at her chest, hoping to see some nipple, but was rebuffed by the shadow of a bra through her white chemise. 

"Come in," I said. "I've got a pitcher of margaritas chilling in the freezer." 

I retrieved the margaritas and two frosted glasses and led the way to the back deck. We sat on green plastic patio chairs by a round aluminum table. Crystal set her straw-weave handbag and towel on the deck floor beside her while I poured the drinks. 

"A little liquid relaxation," I said, handing her a glass. 


Coventry Park Pt. 01



Her face puckered with the first sip, then relaxed as she took a couple more. I had double-batched the tequila to overpower the sweetness of the Triple Sec...and hopefully to overpower Crystal. 

"Better?" I asked. 

She nodded. "Thanks. I needed that." 

I topped up her glass, eyeing her clothing. "Not planning on swimming today?" 

She grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

She stood up, fiddled open the button of her shorts, pulled down the zipper, and peeled the shorts down her long dark legs. Her grin broadened as she watched my eyes latch on to her white bikini bottom. With teasing fingers she unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her shoulders. I took in her luscious brown cleavage and the two hard nipples poking out the near-translucent material of her white bikini top. 

"Like it?" she asked. 

I nodded, mute. 

"I bought it in Chicago, at Temptations. It was going to be a surprise for Larry, but..." A frown clouded her pretty face. 

"What?" I said. 

She rediscovered her smile. "Nothing. Let's try out the water." 

She climbed daintily down the ladder while I lunged in a slanting dive toward the deep end. I horsed around with her for a while, careful not to be too forward. Her nipples hugged her wet sheer top, hard and pointed and brown. It took all my self-control not to lay hands on them. 

After we were refreshed, we climbed out of the pool and I refilled our glasses. Crystal stared off into space, looking morose. 

"What's wrong?" I asked. 

She downed a large gulp of her drink, then shook her head, fighting back tears. I pulled my patio chair closer and put my hand on her shoulder. She leaned her face into my chest and broke down. 

"What is it?" I asked, stroking her short black hair. It was straight and soft, not kinky at all. 

She shook her head again, continuing to blubber against my chest. I moved my hand down from her head and caressed the silken flesh of her back. She straightened up slowly, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ted. I..." She couldn't get the words out. 

"Is it something I can help with?" 

She looked at me, her eyes red. "Do you have a DVD player?" 

"Sure." 

She grabbed her handbag and towel and stood up. "Come on. I have something to show you." 

We went into the main-floor family room and she handed me a DVD from her bag. She laid the towel on the sofa and sat down on it while I slotted the disk into the player. I settled beside her as the video started. 

Larry, Alicia, and Mandy were sitting on a bed. Larry filled three tall flutes with champagne, passed two to the girls, and raised his. "To the prettiest women in the world," he said. They clinked glasses and sipped, and then Larry's hand was behind Alicia's head, pulling her to him. As his tongue slid into her mouth, Crystal began to whimper beside me. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, a slow tear trickling down her cheek. 

While Larry and Alicia swapped tongues, Mandy rubbed the bulge that was threatening to shred the front of Larry's gray wool pants. He squeezed his big paw over her hand and said, "You want some of this?" 

Mandy smiled. "I want to suck it." 

Larry pulled down his zipper and fished out a black-purple monster nearly a foot long. He pumped it a couple of times, and Mandy dipped her head down and swallowed half of it. Larry jerked his hips up and the other half slid into Mandy's throat. 

"Oh God!" Crystal moaned. She covered her face with her hands, her beautiful brown body trembling. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She nestled her face into my chest, heaving with her sobs. She tried not to watch, but her head kept turning toward the TV. 

Alicia was now on her hands and knees on the bed, with Larry naked behind her and Mandy kneeling at his side. Larry squeezed Alicia's white dress up over her ass and peeled down her peach-colored thong until it stretched between her thighs. While he and Mandy tongue-kissed, Mandy grabbed his big black pole in her fist and worked it up and down Alicia's pink slit. She wedged the prickhead inside Alicia's cunt lips, then yanked her face away from Larry's and, eyes ablaze, said "Fuck her." 

Larry grabbed Alicia's hips with both hands, and with one hard thrust buried his dick balls-deep in her juicy twat. 

I had gotten a bit upset watching this the other night. Alicia had never let me fuck her without a condom, even though I had offered a substantial bonus. Now here she was, bouncing her ass back onto this black man's oversized log to a raunchy chorus of moans and groans. 

Larry gripped the back of Alicia's neck with his left hand while his right snaked behind Mandy's head, steadying it while he tongue-fucked her mouth. Alicia's cooze was churning out cunt butter like a dairy working overtime, slicking up Larry's schlong with a thick sheen of creamy white froth. 

Larry slid his hand around from Mandy's head and onto her yellow-haltered tit. She pulled her top off, and Larry bent over and inhaled her small right boob into his mouth. As he sucked it, he forced his hand down the back of her tight cream-colored capris, his dick never missing a beat in Alicia's cunt. Alicia's eyes were squeezed shut and she was groaning and slamming her ass back onto Larry's foot-long dong. Mandy reached down and slid her thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock, then pulled it out. 

Larry popped his mouth off her breast and looked at her in surprise. Smiling, she nudged the giant black knob against Alicia's anus. "Fuck her ass," she said. 

"God, no!" Alicia cried, and tried to squirm away. Larry held her neck firmly with his left hand. He grasped her hip with his right, and as he and Mandy kissed again, Mandy forced half of his huge rod into Alicia's bunghole. 

Alicia whimpered, "Oh God, no, I can't!" 

Larry removed his hand from her neck and grasped both her hips. With a powerful lunge he jammed the last six inches of his dark meat inside her. 

Alicia's head jerked back, her long blonde hair flying. "Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!" she cried. "Do it! Fuck my ass, you bastard!" 

Larry pummeled his cock into her, giving her all twelve inches with each vicious stroke. 

Chapter 5 

Beside me, Crystal had started sobbing again. Her head was still against my chest, her palm over my nipple. A shiver ran through me when I felt her thumb move over it. I was sure she could see my boner trying to knife its way up out of my Speedo. I cradled her head and stroked her hair, saying, "Shhh, shhh." 

Her face turned toward the TV again. It was hard for her not to watch her husband cornholing this blonde stranger. Her fingers played with my nipple, then began lightly stroking their way down my ribs. They feathered over my stomach for a few seconds, and finally grazed my prick. 

"Oh God, Crystal," I groaned. 

Her face tilted up and I crushed my lips to hers. I squeezed my tongue into her mouth and her tongue responded, hard and small and frantic. She gripped my hard-on through my swimsuit while I cupped her breast through her flimsy top. As our tongues dived and dipped and twirled, she slid her hand into my Speedo and grasped hot flesh. I moaned into her mouth and pulled my face back. She licked my lips with the tip of her tongue as I undid the back clasp of her bikini top. It fell away, exposing a pair of beautiful breasts the size of small oranges, with chocolate areolas and dark brown, almost black nipples that stood out like tiny coiled springs. I leaned down and took one into my mouth, and it was Crystal's turn to groan. As I flicked my tongue over the hard bud, she began stroking my cock with long, forceful jerks. If she kept that up I knew I wouldn't last long. I grabbed her wrist and gazed into her dark eyes. "I don't want to come that way," I said. 

Crystal's face was torrid. "How?" 

I pressed her back onto a mound of cushions, making sure she could see the TV, and kissed her again. I licked both her nipples, then trailed my tongue down her belly and swirled it in her navel. I hooked my thumbs in her bikini bottoms, and when she raised her hips I peeled the tiny garment down her long brown legs and untangled it from her ankles. Her cooze was gorgeous, with a thin vertical strip of neatly trimmed black hair curling up just above her labia. The labia themselves were shaved, revealing a dark brown, near-black slit with a hint of pink inside. I didn't know if the beads of moisture there were pool water or love dew, so I leaned down to find out. I slurped my tongue up her slit, then sucked her clit between my lips. 

"Oh God," she moaned, tangling her fingers in my hair. I looked up at her. Her eyes were focused on the TV again. From the sounds coming from the set I didn't need to see what was happening. Larry was lying on his back on the bed, and Mandy was sitting on his face while Alicia sucked the dick that had just been in her ass. I had been careful in my edits to make sure I caught every lewd gyration of Larry's tongue on Mandy's quim—the way he sucked her folds into his mouth, his teeth nibbling her clit, his tongue poking deep into her bald pink hole. I emulated his actions on Crystal's cunt while lapping up the juices that were flowing like a river from deep inside her. They were a musky syrup, rich and tangy, like an exotic Thai sauce. 

Crystal's pelvis jerked up and her hips began to grind around. She was in desperate need. I flicked my tongue over her clit again, and her beautiful brown body began to writhe and shake in an African beat I had never witnessed before. The feral noises trying to claw their way up from her throat made her sound like she was speaking in tongues. She grabbed my head with both hands and jerked my face hard to her cunt. She froze and shuddered, and my mouth was swamped with a fresh batch of creamy girl-goo. As I savored her tasty gift, her hands relaxed on my head and her body went limp. 

I gave her cunt one last tongue-swipe and sat up. 

Crystal slowly opened her eyes and smiled at me. "That was...nice," she said. 

I smiled back. "Yes, it was." 

She looked at my boner, pointing seven inches toward the ceiling. "Oh my! Did I cause that?" 

My cock twitched in answer. 

She smirked. "I guess I'll just have to do something about it." 

She crooked her index finger at me, and I crawled up her body until my dick was even with her face. She grasped the base, lifted her head off the pillows, and swallowed my shaft to the hilt. I gasped. She smiled around my white meat and started bobbing her head back and forth. She looked a bit uncomfortable in that position, so I scooted forward a little, grabbed the armrest of the sofa, and began fucking her mouth. 

As I plowed my dick into her face, Crystal's eyes latched onto the TV again. I turned my head and saw Mandy lying back on the bed, her shoulders and head raised high on pillows. Larry was on his knees straddling her chest, gripping the headboard, and skull-fucking her like a madman. With each violent thrust his dick slid a full twelve inches down her throat. Mandy's eyes were watering and she was making gagging sounds, but I could see she was enjoying it. 

As I humped my dick harder into Crystal's mouth, I remembered the editing I'd done last night. The DVD was a compilation of the numerous fuck sessions the threesome had had. Larry had come several times, but I didn't want to show them all to Crystal. I figured the maximum impact would be to let her see his final orgasm, the one I was sure would seal his fate. I had incorporated scenes of Larry jamming his dark meat into every one of the hookers' inviting holes, and so far my plan had proved right—Crystal had come like a ten-dollar whore when I ate her, and now she was slurping my dick like it was the tastiest Popsicle on the planet. I had been surprised at first that she was able to take my whole seven inches down her throat, but looking now at her husband's massive tool splitting Mandy's lips, I could understand it. Crystal seemed almost grateful for my smaller dick. She gave it loving swirls with her tongue on the outstrokes and worked her throat muscles around it each time I shoved it in. I was close to coming but I wasn't done yet. As soon as Larry had Mandy splayed out and was fucking her missionary-style, I eased my dick from Crystal's mouth and slid down her body. I wiped my cockhead up her slit and smiled at her. 

"Ted, I don't think we should—" 

I jammed my prick seven inches deep inside her. 

"Oh God, yes!" she said. "Fuck me!" 

I draped her long brown legs over my shoulders and stabbed my prick into her cunt again and again. Gripping her ass cheeks, I pounded her silly, grinding the base of my cock on her clit with each dick-burying stroke. After several long minutes of frenetic jungle fucking, I lay on top of her and rutted into her slowly, slavering my tongue in her mouth. She grabbed my butt and twisted it, hunching her hips up to meet my jabs. For a moment I was tempted to dip my dick in her dark nether hole, but then thought that might be too much for a first date. Sure, Larry had done it to Alicia on the DVD—was doing it to Mandy at that moment—but those girls were pros and Crystal was an amateur, although she was a better lay than either of those two blonde whores. 

Crystal began to shudder again, and I felt my moment of release at hand. From the TV I heard Mandy yell, "Come in my ass, you motherfucker! Pop your nuts inside me!" 

Larry chuckled. "I ain't wasting my black baby juice up no white girl's asshole." 

Crystal's eyes flicked to the screen again, a steady stream of moans now leaking from her mouth. Her tits quivered with my pounding, her hips hunching up hard. I turned my head in time to see Larry pull his cock out of Mandy's ass from behind and shove it a foot deep up her swollen pink twat. 

"This is where a black man puts his sperm," he said. "Where it'll do the most good." 

Resting his weight on her back, he groped her tits, grunting and flexing his ass cheeks. Large viscous pools of white goo oozed out from where his cock was plugged into Mandy's cooze. He started jabbing her with short strokes, and Mandy groaned and whimpered, almost crying with need. "Oh, yes! Give it to me! Plant your seed deep inside me." 

I looked at Crystal again. Fresh tears were drizzling down her cheeks. I licked them off, kissed her, and then gave her everything I had. She started sobbing and clutching my ass again, her legs clamped like a vise around me. "Oh, yes, fuck me," she said, her voice a breathy Siren's call. "Make love to me." 

I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'm almost there, Crystal. Can I come inside you?" 

She gazed up into my eyes. Sadly. Sexily. She nodded. 

I gave her a few more hard pokes, and then, with a final grunt, I buried my dick inside her to the root. I couldn't believe she was so tight after fucking Larry. Her vaginal muscles strangled my shaft like a knotted fist, each spine-tingling outpouring of my hot love sauce causing another orgasmic wave to wash through her luscious brown body. My cock jerked and spluttered and filled her womb, and when it was over, I laid my head on her shoulder, completely spent. She stroked my hair, suppressing whimpers deep in her throat. I hoped they were caused by me, but I knew better. They were sounds of regret at the massive betrayal she had just witnessed on the TV screen—at least for the second time. This was a revenge fuck on her part, pure and simple...exactly as I had planned. But now that it was over I didn't want it to end. To my surprise I felt something for this woman—a twinge of pity perhaps, but something more I thought. For a second the word love popped into my head. Even at this late stage of my life I still wasn't sure I knew what the word meant. Sure, I had said it to more than a few women in my day, but my love was a nomad, so fickle it could change direction instantaneously in a club, flitting from woman to woman like grains of sand in a desert storm. Nevertheless, I felt some connection with her, and not just my dick shriveling in her pussy. 

My cock fell loose and I sat up beside her. She sat up, too, her eyes avoiding mine. That painful period of silence after forbidden sex. 

"That was...nice," I said. 

She looked at me and smiled a discomfited smile. "Yes, it was." 

I shifted closer and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on my chest. The obligatory post-coital cuddle. I stroked her back, feeling smug at the little shivers I sent skipping through her body. 

"Oh my God!" she said. 

"What? 

She lifted her head off my chest and looked into my eyes. "I can't believe I let you come inside me. I'm not on the Pill." 

That, too, had been my plan. 

I acted flustered, ashamed. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Crystal. I should have used a condom." 

She shook her head. "No, it was my fault. What was I thinking?" 

I let her mull that for a moment. 

"Any regrets?" I asked. 

A second's hesitation, then: "No, except for not protecting myself." 

"You can always use the morning-after pill." I felt I had to offer her the out, even though the thought of my sperm cells drilling their horny little heads into her fertile egg turned me on like crazy. 

"That's a good idea," she said. "I'll have to buy it in Gantry, though. Sam, the pharmacist at Coventry Drug Mart, is a friend of Larry's. I'm sure he knows we're trying to have a baby." 

I tried to look surprised. "You are?" 

Another pause. "We were. Not now." 

My hand trailed down to Crystal's thighs. I slid it between them and fingered the blobby mess of semen there. "So...where do we go from here?" I said. 

"I-I don't know, Ted. Everything is happening so fast. So fucking fast." 

It was the first time I'd heard her use the F word. I liked it. 

"Crystal, I've never said this to anyone before, but I think I lo—" 

She pressed her finger to my lips. "Shh. Let's just enjoy this moment. Okay?" 

I nodded. 

She cuddled to my chest while I fingered her to another orgasm. 

A half-hour later, she looked at the clock on the fireplace mantle and said, "Shit, it's almost four-thirty. Larry will be home soon." She got up and retrieved her clothes. I stroked my sticky cock, watching her dress. 

Chapter 6 

After my break-up with Connie Macmillan and my phone call to Crystal, Crystal arrived in the allotted ten minutes, bedecked in the same white bikini she had worn on our first tryst. We swam and drank margaritas and lazed around the pool for an hour, and then I took her into the living room and sat on the couch while she mounted me, her pussy sliding up and down my pole like a hot tight glove. She was in the middle of some kind of tribal dance in honor of my dick—head thrown back, tits shimmying, hands gripping my thighs behind her—when she said, "Oh shit!" and hunkered down, her breasts pancaking my head. 

"What's wrong?" I asked. 

She rolled off me and onto the floor. "It's Carly, Chuck and Livvy's daughter." 

I laughed. "She's just delivering the newspaper." 

"I think she saw me." 

I turned my head. The drapes and valences were wide open. The damned maid must have forgotten to close them. As my dick slowly wilted, Crystal fumbled around on the floor for her clothes. 

"Are you leaving?" I asked. 

She gave me her responsible look. "I think that would be prudent, don't you?" 

"She probably didn't see you." 

"Maybe not, but I'm out of here all the same." 

That was a piss-off. We had only been together a month, but perhaps our time was already drawing to an end. 

"What's Larry going to do?" I said. "After all, you've got the DVD." 

Crystal pulled up her shorts and stared at me with a duh look on her face. "He might just come over here and beat the shit out of you." 




Coventry Park Pt. 01



I hadn't considered that. 

*** 

The next morning I had to go to Gantry to tend to some business. I returned home about one o'clock, and walking through my front door I saw a blonde head sticking up over the back of my green-and-gold French provincial chair. When I came around it I was surprised to see Carly Bresman, clad in a pink bikini top, red terry-cloth shorts, and white sneakers. She was snapping a wad of gum between her teeth, giving me her smug teenage smirk. 

I sat on the sofa across from her and said, "Carly, how did you get in?" 

"The back door was open." 

That was a nasty habit of mine. 

"What are you doing here?" 

She stretched the gum out from between her teeth and let it snap back. "I saw you." 

I tried not to gulp. "Saw me what?" 

"You know." 

"No, I don't know." 

"You and Mrs. Taylor, you were..." The girl's smirk blossomed into a full-on grin. "It's okay. I mean, I'm not prejudiced or anything. In fact, there's this black guy at school—Thad—he's really hot." 

Her fingers returned to her mouth to wrench her wad of bubblegum. She brought her right foot up onto the chair and started waving her knee back and forth. My eyes locked on the tight crevice in her shorts between her thighs. 

Carly had just turned eighteen and would be starting her senior year at Coventry High School in the fall. She was the daughter of Chuck and Livvy Bresman, the latter of whom I had ended an affair with a little over seven months earlier. Livvy was thirty-nine and a bit on the chunky side. Carly was about five-two, slender, with tight schoolgirl curves in all the right places. Her cupcake-size breasts pressed against the thin material of her pink bikini top, the pinprick nipples winking at me. I dragged my eyes up from them and looked into her face again. She was still grinning. 

"So what do you want, Carly? Is this some kind of blackmail scheme?" 

A hurt expression pinched the girl's face. "Oh no, nothing like that. I just thought maybe you could...help me with something." 

I was having trouble keeping my eyes off her snatch. Her wagging knee had caused the red terry cloth to fold up into her vaginal crease. 

"Help you with something? Like what?" 

A pink flush crept up from her neck and into her cheeks. "Well, you know I'm going with Joel Penneman?" 

I nodded. I had seen them together a few times. The Penneman kid lived one block over, tall and lanky, with clipped dark hair. 

"Well," she said, "Joel and I have been...doing some things." 

"Fucking?" I said. 

Carly's jaw dropped. She shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, nothing like that. Just kissing and stuff." 

"And?" 

"Well...Joel says I'm not a very good kisser. I'm afraid he's going to dump me." 

"Is that all the two of you have done so far, just kissed?" 

Another hot surge of pink. "No." 

"What else?" 

"We've...you know, touched each other." 

"You've played with his cock?" 

An embarrassed nod. 

"Has he put his fingers in your pussy?" 

Another aggressive head shake. "No, we just touch each other through our clothes." 

"So you haven't sucked his cock?" 

Carly squirmed in her chair, her cheeks now bright red. "No." 

"How can I help?' 

"I thought you could...you know, maybe teach me to kiss better?" 

My cock stiffened in my pants. "And in return you'll keep quiet about seeing me and Crys— me and Mrs. Taylor together?" 

"Sure," Carly said, her smirk returning. "It'll be our secret." 

I pretended to think about it. "I suppose I can do that." 

Carly's face beamed. "Goody!" 

Goody? Christ. 

"When do you want to start?" I said. 

"I was hoping now. If you're not too busy." 

"I think I can shuffle things to the back burner for a while. Why don't you come over here?" 

Carly stood up and walked toward me, looking tentative. I checked to make sure the damned curtains were closed. She sat beside me on the couch, and I laid my arm across the back of her shoulders. She flinched. 

"It's hard to kiss somebody without touching them, Carly." 

She nodded, her cheeks pinking again. 

"So what exactly have you and Joel done so far? Have you French-kissed?" 

"Yes," she said softly. 

"Joel's put his tongue in your mouth?" 

She nodded. 

"Have you put yours in his?" 

"Uh huh." 

"And what do you do with your tongue once it's in his mouth?" 

Carly looked at me as if I were speaking Greek. "I don't do anything." 

I was starting to get the picture. "Okay. Let's try a run-through so I can see what's what." 

I leaned toward her. She rested her head back on my arm. Her lips were hard as granite. It took almost a minute to wedge my tongue between them, and when I did it was met by icy-still frigidity. Like kissing a corpse. 

I straightened up. "Okay, I think I see part of the problem." Carly looked into my eyes like a knowledge-starved student. "You have to soften your lips a bit, Carly, make them mushy. They're too tense. And when a boy tries to put his tongue in your mouth, it's okay to hold him off for a while—a little tease is good—but then you have to let him inside. Then, once his tongue is in your mouth, you need to use your tongue. Roll it against his, like you're massaging it." 

Carly gave me a doubtful look. 

"Let's start with step one," I said. "I kiss you, and you make your lips mushy." 

I leaned in again. This time her mouth was soft and compliant. We smooched for a long minute, my boner rising like Old Faithful. I pulled back, reluctantly. 

"Good," I said. "Now, while we're kissing like that, flick your tongue out, just a bit, over my lips. Boys find that really sexy. Let's try it." 

Our lips met again, and the tip of Carly's tongue came out to play, hard and pointed and very, very sexy. I sucked on it gently. She moaned. 

I eased back. "Did you like that?" 

A shy nod, accompanied by deep eye contact. 

"Okay, that's step two. Step three, I put my tongue in your mouth, and you move your tongue against it in little circles. Understand?" 

"Yes," Carly said quietly. 

"Good. Then, when you feel my tongue pulling back, you put your tongue in my mouth and swirl it around. Okay?" 

"I think so." She looked not at all sure. 

"Let's try it." 

I kissed her again, and when her tongue emerged from her mouth I pressed it back in with mine, searching for her tonsils. Her tongue began twirling around, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, always in motion. When my tongue retreated into my mouth, hers followed, dancing and skipping and teasing my palate. My cock was at near-launch status. 

With our lips still pressed together, I cupped her breast through her pink bikini top and thumbed the diamond-dot nipple. She moaned and her little tongue went ballistic in my mouth. I pawed her top down and squeezed my hand over the soft mound of teen flesh. I pulled my lips from hers, dipped down, and inhaled her entire boob into my mouth. Carly groaned and cradled my head against her chest, her hips squirming. While maintaining my lip-lock on her tit, I slowly sank her back onto the cushions. I flicked my tongue over her nipple, feathered my hand up the insides of her thighs, and cupped her pussy through her shorts. Her inner thighs were silky smooth, her cunt a hothouse of moisture. I licked my way up from her breasts to her lips, and as our tongues played cat-and-mouse again, I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and started peeling them off her buttocks. She lifted her hips, and I dragged shorts and panties off, then buried my hand in a very juicy schoolgirl twat. Her pubic hair was soft and sparse, her vaginal lips smooth and moist. 

"God, you've got a beautiful cunt," I said. 

She smiled at me shyly. "Thanks." 

I licked my way down her torso and kissed the inside of each thigh. When I slithered my tongue between the lips of her tight virgin slit, she groaned and grabbed my head, pulling it hard to her pussy. Her dainty teenage hole smelled fresh and fragrant, her adolescent juices like honey to my lips. I slid a finger inside her and moved my tongue up onto her clit, flicking it in rhythm with her grinding hips. As her breaths began to spurt out in pants, I replaced my tongue on her clit with my twiddling thumb, withdrew my finger from inside her, and plunged my tongue deep up her sopping twat. 

"Oh God!" she cried, arching her back, her hands twisting my hair. 

I tongue-fucked her for a good three minutes while diddling her clit into a throbbing, swollen nub. Her body began to vibrate and an unholy noise sprang up from her throat. She clamped her thighs around my head, and I squeezed her ass cheeks in my hands and found her clit with my tongue again. 

"Oh God!" she cried. "Yes! Eat me!" 

I flailed her little button mercilessly, and Carly exploded into a full-blown fit—head thrashing, body writhing, groin pumping up to meet my mouth. A torrent of sweet girl-juice flooded my face, and I lapped up every drop, savoring the delicate flavor, then sucked her clit gently, proud of the tiny aftershocks I sent rippling through her body. 

Finally I lowered her ass back onto the couch and looked up at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her small breasts heaving. Her cute little face reminded me of her mother's, with its high cheekbones, button nose, and thin pink lips. I slid up her body and lay down beside her. "Did you like that, Carly?" 

Her eyes fluttered open, a mixture of lust and gratitude shining behind them. "Oh, yes! It was the best thing I ever felt." She noticed my hand fumbling with my pants. "Wh-what are you doing?" 

I extracted my stiff prick. "I think this will be the best thing you've ever felt." 

"No! Mmphff—" 

I sealed her lips with mine, jabbing my tongue into her mouth. Her hips began to wriggle again, this time against my raging dick. I broke off the kiss and nibbled on her ear. "After a boy goes down on a girl, Carly, he likes her to suck her juices off his tongue and lick them off his face." 

Carly seemed unsure of what I was asking, so I kissed her again, this time drilling my tongue halfway down her throat. She quickly got the message and began sucking on it, enjoying the exotic taste of her creamy froth. I pulled my face back from hers, and her tongue flitted over my cheeks and chin like a kitten's, lapping up her love dew. My cock was now a stick of dynamite. I rolled on top of her, gripped my shaft, and nudged my prickhead against her spit-slick labia. 

"No, wait!" she said, her face tight with fear. "I don't want to get pregnant." 

I swabbed my glans up and down her greasy slit. "I've had a vasectomy. I can't get you pregnant." 

It was a lie, but a search for a condom at that point would have destroyed the moment. With my hand guiding my prick, I pressed my groin to hers and felt her pussy lips part. Her little hole was tighter than hell, like trying to feed my dick through a test tube. I managed to squeeze maybe an inch in before her hymen blocked my progress. The position of my cockhead in her twat was confirmed by the Grinch-like grimace on her face. I smoothed a long strand of soft blonde hair off her face and said, "This will probably hurt for a few seconds, Carly, but after that you'll be the sexiest girl at school." 

She nodded her head, looking uncertain. 

I eased my hips back and jerked forward, punching my dick through her maidenhead and seven inches up her skinny schoolgirl channel. 

"Oh, God!" she cried, trying to wriggle away. I pressed my body down on hers and started pumping. Within minutes her teary whimpers changed to shallow pants and low moans. But now that the pain had disappeared, she suddenly became passive—eyes scrunched shut, hips frozen, hands flopped lifeless at her sides. I'd had more fun when she was fighting me off. 

I squeezed my right hand under her buttocks and lifted them, whispering in her ear, "You're so sexy, Carly. Fuck me back, baby. Fuck me and make me come." 

She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her baby blues were near-rabid. She started hunching her hips up to meet my thrusts, grinding her clit around on my pole with each of my downstrokes. "Oh, yes, fuck me!" she moaned, her voice a throaty whimper. 

I put my thumb on her clit and diddled it as I jammed my dick hard up her baby hole. It was the tightest thing I had ever been in, asses included. The hot friction felt like it was stripping the skin off my dick. It was an exquisite combination of agony and pleasure 

"Do you want me to fuck you harder, Carly?" 

Her pelvis lunged up. "Yes. Fuck me harder." 

I sped up my pistoning pace. "Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want me to fill your little womb with my cream?" 

Another huge lunge. "God, yes! Come inside me! Fill me!" Her small body began to shake. 

I plunged my tongue back in her mouth and pummeled her cooze with short, quick strokes. I raised my head and bellowed at the heavens, "Fuck, yeah! I'm coming! I'm coming inside your hot little cunt!" 

Carly's body quaked off the Richter scale. "I can feel it!" she cried. "I can feel it shooting inside me!" 

I could feel it, too. It felt like the biggest load I had ever produced. Spurt after powerful spurt pulsed out of my dick in great heart-stopping waves of pleasure, completely drenching the girl's insides and oozing out onto my balls. With the image of my sperm fertilizing her tiny adolescent egg spurring me on, I rutted into her like a stud bull in heat, anxious to drain every drop of semen inside her nubile schoolgirl frame. Finally, after what seemed like minutes, her body went limp. My cock spasmed one last time and died. I collapsed on top of her, my hips still twitching in involuntary starts. I moved my face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips were mushier than hell. 

"God, that was great," I said. 

She smiled at me, pride in her eyes. "Really?" 

I smiled back. "Really. That was the best fuck I ever had. Joel's in for a special treat." 

A frown darkened her face at the mention of her boyfriend's name. I feathered a finger down her tanned cheek. "Don't worry, Carly. Boys don't really go for virgins—that's a myth. Boys like girls who know how to fuck, and, baby, at that you're the best." 

Carly's lips re-curled into a smile. I traced my index finger over them, then slid it into her mouth. "Tomorrow," I said, "I teach you how to suck cock."



Coventry Park Pt. 02



Chapter 7 

Before she went home that day, I emphasized to Carly the importance of keeping our lessons secret, and told her to take the utmost care when sneaking in my back door. The last thing I needed was the neighbors—especially Livvy and Crystal—to see her. I didn't think I'd have a problem; Carly's parents worked most days, and Crystal had gone into seclusion mode, not even returning my calls. 

Carly's mother, Olivia—Livvy to her friends—was a part-time librarian at the local satellite branch of the Gantry Public Library. Chuck Bresman, Carly's father, was a bible-thumping industrial salesman who spent long hours on the road and was often away for days at a time. It was during one such absence that Livvy and I got together. She had become unenamored with her religious-fanatic paramour and proved susceptible to my charms. Like Crystal, I fucked her on our first tryst, and we screwed almost daily after that, whenever her husband wasn't around. Livvy had gained a few pounds after giving birth to Tommy eight years earlier. She wasn't fat but she was more than voluptuous, with meaty hips, a little Buddha belly, and 36DD tits that I liked to grope whenever I screwed her from behind. Her main attraction, though, was her big round ass, which she'd liked me to fuck as often as possible. That hadn't been a problem—cornholing her plump booty became one of my favorite pastimes. Although she could come at the drop of a hat, her orgasms were always more intense when I was ramming my cock up her rectum and tweaking her clit with my fingers. 

The ten-year age difference between Carly and Tommy had seemed a bit unusual to me. When I asked Livvy about it, she admitted that Tommy wasn't Chuck's child. She had had a fling with a family friend, one of Chuck's salesmen confreres, and although she and Chuck had continued their once-a-month bouts of dispassionate sex during the affair, Livvy had counted backward and knew the baby couldn't be his. Chuck never got wise, and Livvy never confessed her sins. And so life went on, Livvy living her lie and Chuck reading his Bible. 

During our six months together Livvy and I had lots of fun. But when Connie started making goo-goo eyes at me I knew it was time for a change. The breakup crushed Livvy. She swore off men altogether. I didn't think even Chuck was getting any anymore. 

Livvy was always very vocal in bed, her squeals of joy almost identical to her daughter's. I heard those latter squeals often over the next week as I taught Carly everything I knew. Everything, that is, except anal. I didn't think the girl was ready for that yet, though judging by her mother I was sure someday she'd be a bum-fuck slut, too. She was already a slut in every other way. My own personal do-what-you-want-with-my-teenybopper-body ho. 

I made Carly promise not to demonstrate her newly acquired skills to Joel until after we were finished our lessons. As Friday rolled around I began to concoct a plan. Despite our pleasant times together, I knew that the girl was still infatuated with Joel. It was natural—he was her age; I was sixteen years older. If I wanted any chance of extending our relationship, I needed to change the equation. 

Carly showed up on Friday afternoon at her regular time, but instead of engaging in our normal boink-and-schlurp session, I produced a diploma I'd printed off from my computer. The masthead read: To The Best Lay In The World. Under that, in fancy script, it said, "This certifies that Carly Bresman has graduated with distinction in Sex Ed 101, having demonstrated a high degree of proficiency in all forms of intercourse." There was an official-looking blue seal in the bottom left corner, and in the bottom right the name The School of Hard Rocks and its fictitious chancellor, Skrume E. Blue. 

Carly held it in front of her and examined it with shiny eyes. "Thanks, Ted." 

"You're welcome," I said. "You earned it." 

She hugged me tightly and we practiced kissing. When her little tongue began to vibrate in my mouth, I couldn't help myself—I carried her to the couch, peeled her panties down from under her short pink skirt, and fucked her hard and fast, blasting my gooey load deep inside her horny adolescent hole. 

Afterward as we lay cuddling, I said, "So what have you got on for tonight?" 

A low moan wrenched out of Carly's throat from my fingers squishing around in her box. "Joel and I are going to a movie in Gantry with Chloe Holmes and Nathan Podloski." 

Chloe Holmes was a babe, a cheerleader type with long chestnut hair, oversized knockers, and a tight round ass. 

"Are you planning on showing Joel any of the things you've learned?" 

Carly produced a big smile. "Oh yes. Well, at least the kissing and stuff." 

"Why don't you two bow out on Chloe and Nathan and come over here instead. I've got lots of DVDs, and you'll have more privacy here than with your friends." 

Carly's eyes lit up. "Really?" 

"Really." 

"What time?" 

"Well, it gets dark around nine. How about after that?" 

"Awesome!" Her crotch started hunching against my hand again. 

"Wear something sexy," I said. "Something that'll really turn Joel on." 

Her face took on a worried look. "But Mom will see—" 

"Bring your outfit over here. You can put it in your backpack or something." 

Her little face brightened. 

Chapter 7 

At nine-twenty that night I heard a light tapping at the back door followed by the sound of the door opening. Carly and Joel came into the family room, Carly smiling, Joel looking like he had just shit his pants. Carly was wearing an orange sleeveless V-neck knit top and blue jeans. Joel was dressed in jeans, too, and a black Green Day tee-shirt. I was sitting on the chair beside the couch, clad in khaki shorts and a white wife-beater undershirt. 

"Come in," I said. "Make yourselves at home." I waved them toward the couch. 

Carly led Joel over and sat him down. "I'll be right back," she said. She took her backpack and headed toward the downstairs bathroom. 

"So, how have you been, Joel?" I said. "I haven't seen you in a while." 

"Okay," the boy replied, fidgeting in his seat. 

"I hope you didn't mind changing your plans tonight. I ran into Carly earlier, and she said you guys were going to the movies. I told her about my DVD collection, and she said she hadn't seen a lot of them. I guess you guys don't get to watch too many R-rated flicks, huh?" 

"Nope," Joel said. 

The kid was a master of conversation. 

"Carly picked this one." I waved a DVD case in the air. "Have you seen In The Cut with Meg Ryan and Mark Ruffalo?" 

All I got this time was a headshake. Apparently all of Joel's words had been used up 

Carly returned to the family room, saving me. Joel's jaw dropped when he saw her. She had changed into a painted-on black miniskirt that barely covered her crotch and showed off her tight teenage ass spectacularly. A pink half-tee-shirt left the bottom swells of her small boobs exposed and highlighted the jeweled stud sparkling in her navel. Her blonde hair was teased out Jessica Simpson-style, and she was wearing black eyeliner, mauve eye shadow, and bright pink lipstick. Smirking at Joel, she grabbed the DVD from my hand and walked up to the entertainment stand, her hips swaying sexily from the gait produced by three-inch black heels. She inserted the DVD in the player, sat down beside Joel, and rested her hand on his knee. 

I pressed the play button on the remote. As the opening credits rolled, Carly squeezed Joel's knee and began working her hand up his thigh. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her as, on the screen, Meg Ryan entered a seedy bar and ordered a drink. She sat on a high barstool, inspecting the denizens, her sexy pink tongue teasing her cocktail straw. Carly's hand got bolder and began squeezing the lump in Joel's jeans. 

Meg slid off her stool and went downstairs to the restrooms. In a dark corner of the cavernous basement she saw a hooker crouched down, giving a guy a blowjob. The guy's face was obscured in shadows. This DVD was the unrated version of the movie, and was the sexiest thing I had ever seen in mainstream cinema. The director, Jane Campion, had been so bold as to show the guy's cock gliding in and out of the hooker's mouth. 

Joel kept one eye on the TV and the other on Carly unzipping his jeans. As the hooker in the movie slurped noisily on the guy's bone, Carly released Joel's stiff prick from his pants and captured it in her mouth. 

"Oh God," he muttered, putting his hand on Carly's blonde head. He seemed to have forgotten I was there. His eyes flitted back and forth between the TV and Carly's bobbing face. She was holding the base of his cock with her thumb and two fingers, and nearly swallowing the rest on each downstroke. His prick was just six inches long or so, but surprisingly fat. 

The guy on the TV gripped the hooker's head with both hands and plowed his meat down her throat. Joel's hips, which had been quiet till then, began hunching up, driving his cock deeper into Carly's mouth. He stroked her hair, and a heavy groan crawled up from his throat. "God, Carly, if you keep that up I'm gonna come." 

Carly attacked his dick with increased vigor, pounding her mouth up and down and fisting his hard shaft. 

On the TV, the hooker gurgled, and Joel's eyes leaped to the screen. The woman swallowed the guy's load to the accompaniment of Joel's groan. 

"Oh God! Oh shit!" he said, his hips jerking up. He seized Carly's head with both hands, and a wet glugging sound sputtered up from her throat. She gagged for a second, then pushed her face down onto Joel's tool until her nose was buried in his dark pubic hair. She raised her head a bit, and Joel's hips humped up in short, needy strokes. Carly squeezed the base of his pecker in her fist and sucked the cum out of his bloated teenage shaft. When he was spent, she sat up and opened her mouth to show him his gooey load. He groaned out another "Oh God" when she closed her lips and swallowed. She took her time with it, letting the semen trickle down her throat like molasses, her bobbing Adam's apple testimony that the goo was headed straight to her stomach. Finally she opened her mouth to show him it was empty. 

"Fuck," he gasped. "That was so fucking sexy." 

She crawled up onto him and straddled his lap. The back of her short black skirt rode up, showing me the bottoms of her ass cheeks. She took Joel's face between her hands and kissed him. He seemed hesitant at first—probably not crazy about tasting his own semen, I thought—but once Carly got her little tongue squiggling in his mouth and her pussy grinding against his pecker, he surrendered and cupped his hands on her naked buttocks. 

I let Carly work her magic for a few minutes, then walked over and kissed the top of her head. I lifted her half-tee up over her tits and fondled them from behind while I kissed her neck. When Joel felt my hands between them, he opened his eyes and looked at me like I was a Martian. I eased Carly off of him by the shoulders, and was delighted to see his prick at full mast again. Oh glorious youth. 

Carly stood by my side, her skirt bunched around her hips, her baby boobs and smooth cunt exposed. I handed Joel a small foil wrapper and said, "Here, Joel, put this on." When he saw what it was, his face beamed like daybreak over the Atlantic. He tore the packet open, pulled out the condom, and rolled it onto his dick. 

I kneeled on the rust-colored shag carpet and took Carly's hands. She sank down in front of me, staring at the bulge in my shorts and licking her lips. She undid the button of my shorts and pulled down the zipper, and my prick popped up like a timer in a Thanksgiving turkey. She swiped her tongue over the head while Joel watched her, eyes wide, his rubber-sheathed dick cooling in the air. I could tell it was taking all his willpower not to stroke it. 

"Why don't you come down here with us, Joel?" I said. 

He seemed hesitant, but thankfully not pissed-off. I had inserted myself into a few boyfriend-girlfriend threesomes before, using a similar seduction mode. And although the first part, with just the two lovers getting it on, usually went well, sometimes when I wedged myself into the equation the scene got ugly. Once or twice I had thought I might get in a fistfight when I dipped my dick in some girl's mouth or speared it into her pussy. Jealousy is a terrible thing. 

But the participants I had been with before weren't nearly as young as these two, and Joel seemed cool, and incredibly horny. His hips were squirming on the sofa, his dick pointing toward the ceiling. His plump balls had stretched up to follow his shaft and looked ready for more action. 

"It's okay," I said. "Carly wants it." 

She turned her head toward him, smiling around my prick. She flashed her pretty blue eyes and nodded. Joel pounced down onto the carpet, and without so much as a howdy-do he grabbed Carly's hips and jammed his bone in her pussy to the hilt. Carly closed her eyes and moaned around my dick as he fucked her hard and fast. I had to grin at the boy's enthusiasm. He reminded me of my younger days, although I had never been presented with an opportunity quite like this, and never with a babe as foxy as Carly. 

While Joel jangled her skinny pussy with his bone, I held Carly's head and pumped my cock into her face. She always moaned when she sucked me off, but never like this. Her voice box vibrating against my dick was sending me to the moon. Her slender hips mamboed to an electric beat as Joel gave her the straight goods—just old-fashioned in-and-out fucking without so much as a twist to tickle her clit. Carly seemed to enjoy it, though, and I was enjoying her. I gave her all seven inches of my rod with each flick of my hips, and she took it down her little schoolgirl gullet like a trooper. 

"How's that pussy, Joel?" I said. 

He looked up at me, appearing shell-shocked. His eyes had been focused on his dick pounding into Carly's blonde cunt. "Fucking tight," he said 

I smiled. "It is, isn't it?" 

His eyes widened at that revelation, but he didn't seem to have a jealous bone in his body. He banged his cock into her harder, urgent for his release. 

Pre-cum was leaking from my dick, and my balls were tingling in pre-orgasmic excitement. I jammed my prick faster into Carly's face, trying to match the pace of Joel's furious thrusts in her cunt. Stars lit up before my eyes, and my climax ripped through me like a rocket. I didn't even have time to jerk my cock from Carly's mouth before the first blast of semen geysered out. She swallowed it, and I yanked my cock out with a plop. I fisted it and it went off like a cannon again, firing thick streamers of goo through the air and painting Carly's pretty features. Sperm sprayed all over her face, coating her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. Joel watched intently, groaning and pummeling Carly's pussy. My dick was an out-of-control firehose, pumping out great globs of jism onto Carly's blonde head, into her eyes, onto her cute little button nose. She looked up at me through a translucent film of semen as I popped my cock back into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it as Joel continued jamming her hard from behind. Each time he bottomed out, her ass cheeks jiggled like Jell-O. Joel twisted them in his hands, leaving bright red finger marks on the white flesh. Every vicious punch of his prick shifted her forward, making her swallow my dick to the root. 

"Fuck!" Joel yelled, his face twisted in agony. He threw his head back and gritted his teeth and lunged forward, burying his bone all the way up Carly's teenage twat. He collapsed onto her back and rutted into her with short, choppy strokes, emptying his sperm into its latex sheath. Finally he pulled out and flopped onto his back on the carpet, his arm over his eyes, groaning. 

Holding Carly's head in my hands, I eased her mouth off my prick. She looked up at me, and I nodded over at the boy. Smiling, she turned and crawled toward him. Joel's eyes opened when he felt her hands on his dick. She rolled the rubber off, careful not to spill its juicy load. It looked like Joel had filled the reservoir tip and a quarter-inch besides. I was impressed at the volume, especially after he had just come in Carly's mouth. Another benefit of youth. 

Carly held the condom in the air, tipped her head back, and squeezed the pearly contents between her open lips. The thick strings dangled for a moment like dregs from an oilcan, then oozed down into her mouth. She milked the cum out of the condom with her fingers, then twirled her little tongue in the open end, not wanting to miss a drop. She opened her mouth to show Joel his frothy load, closed it again, and let Joel's semen trickle slowly down her throat. Finally she opened her now-empty mouth to the accompaniment of a fresh groan from Joel. 

She licked my cum off her cheeks and chin, then lay flat on top of him, her small breasts pressed to his chest. His cock hung flaccid between his legs. She lifted her head and grinned down at him. "I love you, baby," she said, and mashed her cum-slick lips to his. Again Joel seemed hesitant, no doubt not wanting to taste my cream. But, as before, he succumbed, and soon the two kids' tongues were spinning around each other, sharing my seed. 

Chapter 8 

After that session, Carly, Joel, and I tried one more threesome, but it didn't go as well. Joel seemed moody and morose, and Carly told me later the green jealousy candle had finally lit up inside him. But she refused to give up her tutoring, and we continued to fuck on a semi-regular basis over the next two weeks. Behind Joel's back, of course. Today was no exception, with one major difference. Carly was lying on her back on the family-room carpet, her body arched in a wrestler's bridge—soles flat on the floor, knees bent, back bowed, head and heels digging into the rust-colored shag. Her hands were entwined in a waterfall of dark-brown curls hanging down between her legs, pushing the face eating her into her cunt. I was nestled in behind Chloe Holmes's beautiful backside, pounding my pud up her slippery channel to a breathy chant of moans and groans. Chloe's sexy vocalizations were muffled by Carly's box in her mouth, but Carly's oohs and ahs were loud and clear as she writhed on the family-room floor. 

From the kitchen, I heard a rap on the back screen door, and then a female voice said, "Knock, knock. Is anybody home?" 

"Shit!" I said in a strangled whisper. 

Carly's eyes popped open. Chloe jerked her face up from Carly's muff. Both girls looked worried. 

I was close to coming. This was the first chance I'd had to sample Chloe's exquisite pussy, and I didn't want to waste it. 

Chloe looked over her shoulder at me as I continued humping her hard. "Just a few more seconds," I said through clenched teeth. My face was locked in a grimace, fire lighting up my balls. If I didn't come soon I thought they might explode. 

"Hello-o!" the voice called in a singsong lilt. 

I choked out another low "Shit!" Whoever it was, she was coming toward us. But I couldn't stop, not when I was this close. I punched my dick harder up Chloe's hole, watching her ass cheeks ripple in my hands. 

"Hello-o!" 

She was right there now, just beyond the threshold to the family room. 

"Fuck!" I croaked. I whipped my dick out of Chloe's cunt and fisted it. The first wad of goo rocketed out and splattered onto the girl's round ass. I looked up at the archway to the kitchen and saw my new next-door neighbor staring at us, wide-eyed. I couldn't help myself—I kept flogging my dick as it spewed out spray after hard spray of jizz onto Chloe's back and butt cheeks. It served this little bitch right to be getting a cum bath. It was mostly her fault I'd been caught like this—she had made me promise to pull out when I came, not buying my vasectomy story. 




Coventry Park Pt. 02



I thought my neighbor would leave when she saw what was happening, but she continued to stand there, frozen, hand over her mouth, knees trembling. The cleft of her cunt showed prominently through her tight denim shorts, and her nipples were trying to poke holes through her canary tube top. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she said. She scampered back into the kitchen and I heard the screen door slam. I squeezed the last dribble of cum from my cock into the crack between Chloe's ass cheeks. 

"Oh wow!" Carly said, staring up at me with frightened eyes. She was still lying on her back in a splayed-leg position. She hadn't moved a muscle. 

I smeared my cockhead through the cummy crease of Chloe's bum, lingering for a second on her little brown hole. She looked over her shoulder at me and took in the creamy mess on her back and ass. Her body was a Braille-pattern of gooseflesh. "Who was that?" she said. 

I massaged my cum into her ass with my hand. "My neighbor." I picked my pants up off the floor. 

"Do you think she'll tell?" Carly said. 

"I don't know." 

"What are we going to do?" Chloe's voice was high-pitched, squeaky. "If my parents or Nathan find out—" 

I held up my palms. "I'll talk to her. I'm sure she'll listen to reason." 

"Reason!" Carly said, looking perturbed. "Reason will put you in jail." 

"I'm not going to jail," I said. "You're both eighteen. We haven't done anything illegal." 

"Illegal or not," Carly said, "Mom and Dad'll kill me if they hear so much as a whisper of this. They'll ground me for life, maybe even send me to boarding school." 

My cheeks began to burn. "Don't be such a fucking drama queen, Carly. I told you, I'll take care of it." 

Her bottom lip curled in a pout. "I'm not a drama queen." 

"Okay, okay. You're not a drama queen." 

She sat up and reached for her electric-blue bikini on the floor beside her. Chloe picked up her red one. They had come over on the ruse of going swimming. 

As the girls put on their bikinis, I wondered how I could get out of this pickle. In spite of my brave words, I hadn't met my new neighbors yet, didn't know if they were libertines or prudes or somewhere in between. I hadn't even seen the husband. 

Both girls looked pissed as I followed their wiggling backsides into the kitchen. They unhooked their swim robes off the backs of two kitchen chairs, and Carly grabbed the handle of the screen door. "See you later, Ted," she said. She made my name sound like the dirtiest, vilest word in the world. 

She pushed out through the door and Chloe caught it before it closed. She turned her head and gave me a wilting gaze. "Yeah, Ted." That one sounded full of snake venom. She let the screen door slam behind her. 

I closed the inside oak door and leaned my head against it. I thumped the wood with my brow. "Shit!" 

Chapter 9 

The next day, my friend Bobby J from Chicago came to visit. He was a fellow smut writer with whom I had shared many pleasant experiences while dabbling in our research. We were sitting in the living room, enjoying a cold drink, when the telephone rang on the end table beside the sofa. My hello was greeted by a very loud, very angry, "You bastard!" 

Bobby heard it, too, and looked at me. I forced a smile. "Hello, Livvy." 

"Don't 'Hello Livvy' me, you creep." 

"Calm down, Livvy." 

"I won't calm down. Not until I see you behind bars." 

An icicle speared up my spine. "Why don't you come over and we'll talk about it?" 

"There's nothing to talk about, Ted. You're a rapist. A...a fucking pervert." 

"Now, Livvy—" 

"My own daughter, Ted! What kind of man are you? Maybe I will come over—to spit in your face!" She slammed down the receiver. 

I stared at the dead phone in my hand. 

"Problem?" Bobby said. 

I shook my head, making a dismissive expression. "Nah, just a little role-playing. Livvy likes to act the part of the disgruntled neighbor. She concocts some outrageous story, chews my ear off over the phone, and then comes over to get fucked." I faked a chuckle. "Never willingly, mind you. She likes rape scenarios." That part was true. 

I paused, as if thinking, then said, "Hey, you want to join in?" 

Bobby rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin. "Gee, I don't know. Think she'll let me?" 

I laughed. "She doesn't let me. I have to take it from her. Come on, it'll be a hoot." 

Bobby appeared unconvinced. 

A pounding fist rattled the front door. I went into the foyer and opened it. "Livvy," I said, trying to sound friendly. 

"You fucking asshole!" She stormed past me, knocking me aside. The hem of her French-green sundress swished alluringly just above her knees. She whirled and faced me in her black-rimmed eyeglasses, near tears. "How could you, Ted? How could you fuck Carly?" 

I smiled for Bobby's benefit. "Fuck Carly? That's a good one, Liv." I straightened my face to convince Bobby of the staging I'd described. "Oh, yes...fuck Carly. Well, I couldn't help myself, Liv." 

She came at me, fists flying. I raised my chin out of the way as she battered my chest. "You fucker!" she screamed. 

I grabbed her wrists and forced them to her sides. "Now, Liv, that's no way to act in front of company." I nodded toward Bobby. Livvy's head jerked around. 

Bobby had leaped to his feet and was standing in the living room, looking shocked. 

Livvy flushed bright pink. "I..." 

"Bobby, this is Livvy Bresman. Livvy, meet Bobby J." 

Bobby tried to piece together a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Livvy." 

Livvy was lost for words. 

"Come in and have a seat," I said to her. I almost had to drag her by the wrist to the living-room couch. She sat beside me while Bobby took an armchair facing us. The silence was thick. 

"Livvy's a librarian," I said to Bobby. "She works at the Coventry Park satellite branch, don't you, Liv?" 

A curt nod. 

"Bobby's a writer," I told her. 

Livvy gulped, trying to form words. I had never seen her like this. She was usually placid, docile as a kitten after years of being browbeaten by her bible-thumping husband. In this condition I thought her threat of turning me in could be real. I knew I hadn't broken any laws, but the stigma attached to a police investigation would turn me into a neighborhood pariah. I needed something, a counter-attack, to deter her. 

As I brainstormed alternatives, Livvy rediscovered her voice. "Wh-what do you write, Bobby?" 

Bobby looked embarrassed, as if debating what to tell her. "Erotica mostly." Seeing the expression on her face, he shrugged and added, "It pays the bills." 

"Nothing wrong with a good fuck story," I said. 

Livvy tensed at the F word, suddenly remembering her mission. She glared at me as if she wanted to flail me again. I steeled myself for the onslaught. 

"Do you live near here?" Bobby asked her. He was a good-looking guy, mid-thirties, about five-ten and a hundred and sixty pounds. His dark wavy hair hung medium-long and flopped just over the back collar of his pale-blue oxford shirt. 

Livvy nodded. "Yes. Three houses down." 

Bobby managed a weak grin. "Close." 

"How about a drink?" I said, standing up. "White wine okay?" White wine was Livvy's favorite panty-remover. 

"Sounds good," Bobby said. 

Livvy nodded her head tersely. 

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of Chenin Blanc from the fridge. As I filled the glasses, Livvy came in. In a low throaty growl she said, "You fucking bastard. You'll pay for this. Carly told me everything." 

"Everything?" I said. 

"Everything, you fucking kiddy-diddler." Tears welled in her eyes. "How could you, Ted? I thought..." She swallowed hard. "I thought we had something good together." 

I set the wine bottle on the counter and took her in my arms. I nestled my face in her soft blonde hair, squeezing her plump ass cheeks. "We did, Liv," I said. 

Her face turned up to mine and I kissed her, sliding my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue responded in slow, loving circles. 

She pushed me away. "No! I can't do this." 

"Come on, Liv." I tried to embrace her again but she wrenched back. 

"You're going to pay for this, Ted. I'll see you in jail if it's the last thing I do." 

I crushed her in a bear hug and wrestled her, kicking and yelling, into the living room. I fell back onto the couch and pulled her down, facing me. With my left arm clenched around her arms and waist, I hooked my ankles over her legs, reached my right hand under the back of her sundress, and ripped off her white lace panties. Bobby launched to his feet again, staring aghast. I slid my hand between our bodies and unzipped my fly. It wasn't easy, but by rolling and shimmying with her struggles, I managed to insert the head of my dick into her somewhat dry hole. 

"No!" she yelled, fighting like a trapped animal. I clutched her to me hard. Her frantic wriggling caused my pole to delve deeper up her cunt. When I tried to kiss her, she bit my lip. 

"Bobby, get over here!" I said, fuming. 

He didn't move. 

"Get over here and fuck her ass!" I jerked Livvy's dress up over her round booty. 

"No!" she cried, twisting again. 

Figuring it was part of the game, Bobby approached slowly. I humped my hips up off the couch, fucking Livvy as best as I could. Bobby extended his hands and stroked them over her smooth white ass cheeks. The invitation was too enticing. He undid his jeans and dropped them to the floor. Grasping Livvy's hip with his left hand, he guided his pecker with his right toward her sexy bunghole. She gasped as his cockhead pressed against her anus. 

"No, you fuckers!" she screamed, bucking and thrashing anew. 

Bobby looked at me. 

"Go on!" I said. "She wants it!" 

He grabbed both her buttocks and slammed his dick all the way up her dark nether hole. 

"Oh God!" Livvy groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Her fighting quieted and her cheeks flushed. 

"Take her downtown," I said to Bobby. 

He fucked his pole in and out of her ass while I held her with both arms and hunched my prick up into her cunt. Within a minute I felt her pussy start to lubricate; she had turned the corner. "You like getting fucked by two big dicks, don't you, bitch?" I snarled. 

Livvy let out a long, low moan. 

Bobby pounded her butt relentlessly, his clawing fingers tattooing red stripes onto her ass. The fierceness of his buffeting relieved me from having to make any fucking motions of my own. I felt Livvy's hips start to squirm; the slut was trying to run her cunt up and down my pole. 

"Fuck her, Bobby!" I said. "Plow her ass till she can't sit for a week!" 

A fresh squall of moans flew from Livvy's throat at Bobby's renewed attack. Her breaths turned into panting heaves, her body quivering under my arms. In seconds she was vibrating out of control. 

"Oh God!" she cried, her pussy spasming around my dick. 

"She's coming!" I said. "The fucking whore's coming!" 

Bobby plunged his pole into her like a madman, giving her all eight inches with each stroke. I drove up into her hard, assisted by her creamy juices, so copious now that I could feel them lathering my lap. 

"Fuck!" I yelled, and buried my cock in her to the hilt. Hot semen careened up from my balls and exploded deep inside her womb, slathering it with goo. Livvy gasped and started shuddering again, eyes closed, forehead sweaty. I had no doubt she could feel my heavy wad drenching her insides. 

Bobby punched his prick all the way up her ass and collapsed onto her back. Gripping her shoulders, he rutted into her with short, choppy strokes. "Fuck!" he said. "I'm coming!" He grunted and groaned, plastering her rectum with sperm. "Fuck, her ass is tight." 

Livvy looked like she had passed out. Her head lay still on my chest, and her body had quit moving. Bobby finished filling her ass with jizz, then brought his face down to hers. He flicked his tongue out at her lips. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Then her own tongue slithered from her mouth and curled around his. 

Chapter 10 

Livvy came back late that night after Carly and Tommy had gone to sleep. I let her and Bobby use my bed while I tried to concentrate on infomercials on TV. But I couldn't get past her screams of "Yes, fuck my ass!" and "Give it all to me!" It wasn't right, them copulating in my bed while I watched George Foreman hawking indoor grills. 

I cracked a bottle of Chivas Regal and tried to lose myself in the booze. Never a good solution. I woke up around eight the next morning feeling like someone had stomped on my head. Three aspirins, a glass of ice water, and two cups of coffee later, and I started to feel semi-human, at least Neanderthal. I was tempted to go upstairs and peek in the bedroom to see if Livvy had overslept, but I was too angry, maybe even a little jealous. Instead I went outside in shorts and bare chest to water my front flowerbeds. The marigolds were a rich Monet canvas of oranges and yellows. The blue and green snapdragons and rolling mounds of magenta impatiens created a rainbow that brightened my day. 

As I adjusted the spray-head on the hose, my next-door neighbor to the south—the woman who had caught me fucking Chloe Holmes—came out onto her front concrete stoop. She didn't notice me at first as she doused her oversized potted pants with a big green plastic watering can. When her eyes finally met mine I gave her a weak smile, not knowing what to expect. To my surprise—and great relief—she returned my smile, hers more radiant and real than mine, I was sure. 

"Good morning," she said, her voice full of soprano good cheer. 

"Morning," I muttered. 

"Another beautiful day." 

I peered up at the cloudless blue sky. "It is." 

"About the other afternoon," she said, "I'm sorry, I should have—" 

I held up my hand. "No, it was my fault. I've been meaning to come over and speak to you about it." 

"How about now?" 

I swallowed. "Now?" 

She shrugged, causing her cantaloupe breasts to lift and squeeze together in her pink tube top. "It's as good a time as any." 

"Okay," I said. 

I walked over and she offered me her hand. "Monica Beldham." 

I shook it. It was soft as rose petals. "Ted Graham." 

She led me through the foyer and into the living room. The walls were painted light sunshine-yellow, and the room was filled with white Rattan furniture, including a padded cane sofa. She pointed me to it and said, "Have a seat. Coffee?' 

"I'd love some," I said. 

She went into the kitchen and called out, "What do you take in it?" 

"Black is fine." 

She returned carrying two steaming mugs and set them on coasters on the glass-topped coffee table in front of me. She sat two feet away on the white cane sofa and pressed the rim of her mug to her pretty lips. I decided I liked the way she dressed. With her pink tube top she was wearing loose beige Bermuda shorts that showed a fair amount of tanned thighs. Her legs were long and slender, but her upper thighs had a nice womanly swell to them. 

I brought my mug to my mouth and looked into her bright blue eyes. My cock thickened under my shorts. I took a sip of hot coffee, then sucked in a deep breath. "About the other day," I said. 

"You don't have to explain," she said. "You're a man." Her eyes flicked down to my rising bulge. She smiled. "Obviously." 

I gulped. "I didn't want you to think I preyed on young girls." 

She smirked. "Oh?" 

"They're both of legal age." 

"Yes, I know." 

I gawked at her. "You do." 

She nodded. "I've known Livvy for years. I met Carly before, once or twice. She was much younger then. She's seventeen, isn't she?" 

My cheeks warmed. "Actually, she just turned eighteen." I was surprised Carly hadn't recognized her. 

"Well, that's certainly of legal age in Illinois. Even seventeen is, provided you're not in a position of trust or authority. You're not, are you?" 

"No," I said. "I just know her from the neighborhood." 

"And the other girl, the one you were...?" She let the sentence dangle. 

"Chloe's eighteen, too. Another neighborhood girl." 

She smiled. "Well, I guess everything's copasetic, then." 

I nodded, wondering how she knew so much about the legal age to fuck in Illinois. "Do you work?" I asked her. I hadn't seen her around much other than on move-in day. 

"Yes," she said. "I'm a lawyer. A partner at Elliott, Loggins & Cornfeld in Gantry." 

I almost spewed out my mouthful of coffee. "Forgive me. It's just...well, you look so young." 

She grinned at me coyly. "Thank you. But I'm not that young." 

She couldn't be over twenty-seven, I thought. 

"I'm thirty-three," she said. 

That surprised me. "I haven't seen your husband around," I said. 

"He's out of town quite a bit. That's how I met Livvy. Aaron works with Chuck." 

Hallelujah! the celestial choir sang in my head. Two absentee husbands. I wondered if Livvy had told her about me. "Do you see Livvy much?" 

"Not since I moved in. We seemed to see more of each other when I lived in Gantry. We've gotten together a few times, for coffee with some of the other neighborhood women." 

That sounded bad. "Oh? Like who?" 

"Connie Macmillan. Crystal Taylor. A few others." 

Fuck! "Are you and Livvy good friends?" I couldn't read her expression. That coy grin never left her face. 

"Good enough. You know us women; we're all sisters in the flesh." 

What the hell did that mean? 

"Aaron and I are throwing a party Saturday night," she said. "Kind of a belated housewarming. I'd love for you to come." 

My prick jerked in my shorts. "I'll have to check my schedule." 

She smirked. "Are you that busy?" 

Heat returned to my cheeks. "Not really. I can probably make it." 

"You're a writer, aren't you?" 

So Livvy had mentioned me. "Yes." 

"I love writers. They're so...interesting." She inched closer on the blue sofa pad. "Have you written anything I'd know?" 

I told her about my two novels. More about the first. 

"What are you working on now?" she asked, her thigh now nearly touching mine. 

"Not much. Short erotica mostly." 

Her face lit up. "Erotica? Really?" 

I nodded. 

"I love erotica. All that fucking and sucking." 

I stared into her eyes. Lust lived there. She seized my bulge and crushed her lips to mine. Her tongue came out, twisting and exploring. Mine met it in a dueling frenzy. I pulled her to me, mashing her breasts against my chest. She squeezed my cock through my shorts and tried to undo my zipper. She slid it down and dipped her head to my lap. I groaned as her warm mouth engulfed half my pole. I snaked my hand down the back of her loose shorts and cupped a pantyless ass cheek. 

She slid down onto the carpeted floor between my legs, her mouth never leaving my tool. She peeled her tube top down off her breasts, exposing pink nipples and areolas seeded with tiny pinprick bumps. She pulled my cock from her mouth and laid it in her cleavage. "Your prick is beautiful," she breathed, looking up into my eyes. She squeezed her tits around it and slipped the head into her mouth. 

I groaned and laid my head back against the hard Rattan cane. "God, Monica, your mouth is so fucking hot." 

I hunched my dick up into her face, basking in the exquisite pressure of her tits around it. I grabbed her head and guided it up and down my pole as a tingling sensation started in my balls. I punched my hips up harder and said, "Oh, you beautiful fucking slut!" Monica moaned around my cock, making it vibrate in her mouth. "God, Monica, I'm close." 

She released my rod, stood up, and dropped her shorts. Her pussy was a slick razor-gash of pink. She climbed on top of me, pressing her tits into my face. She raised her ass, grabbed my pole, and fed the head into a very tight, very wet cooze. She sank down slowly, eyes closed, head tossed back. Those beautiful pointed breasts stared me in the face. I grabbed her ass cheeks and lunged my hips up. "Fuck!" I croaked. "You're so fucking tight." 




Coventry Park Pt. 02



She opened her eyes and smiled at me and began riding my shaft. I hadn't lied—her pussy was as claustrophobic as Carly's and Chloe's tight teenage holes. It felt like I was fucking a virgin, except the round-and-round and back-and-forth motions her hips were making certainly weren't very virgin-like. 

I squeezed her tits in my hands, and she threw her head back again and gripped my thighs behind her. "Oh yes, fuck me!" she said. 

I rammed up into her again and again as she bounced and spiraled those hips, sending me to heaven. 

"Shit!" I said through clenched teeth. "I'm going to come." 

To my surprise, she reached behind her and jerked my cock out of her cunt. Almost immediately it was enveloped again in wet, velvety warmth. "Fuck!" I yelled, lunging up, my fingers digging into her ass. Cum roared out of my nuts as if I hadn't climaxed in weeks. Monica's pussy sucked out each healthy spurt, milking my shaft in its tight wet grip. I fired two, three, four strong blasts, and her pussy gulped them all up. 

She slid sideways off my lap, and my eyes turned to orbs. My cock was lodged in the mouth of a balding man. He smiled up at me from around it. 

"Fuck!" I yelled, and shot a fifth wad of semen deep into his throat. He gulped and swallowed, never losing his smile. 

"Ted," Monica said, "meet my husband Aaron." 

Chapter 11 

The next morning—Friday—I called both Connie and Crystal to try to learn what they had told Monica at their coffee get-together. Neither answered her phone. Livvy had left for Chicago the night before to attend a one-day librarians' seminar. Bobby J had told me he was meeting her at her hotel. I was pissed at him for that, although I guess I shouldn't have been. After all, I was the one who had set up their first cornholing session, knowing full well that Livvy loved taking big ones up her ass. But my adolescent jealousy was fueled by the strong presumption that I would never get to sample that luscious booty again. 

Chuck Bresman's green Ford station wagon was parked in his driveway. He was obviously home, probably to monitor Carly and Tommy. 

I was alone with my doubts, which were causing me near-anguish. 

There had been a few awkward moments at Monica's house, with my cock lodged in her husband's mouth. Ashamedly, I had to admit to myself that it was the hardest orgasm I had ever experienced. I had been lost for words watching Aaron Beldham swallow my seed with that pansy-ass smile on his face. When he finally uncorked my dick from his lips, I just wanted to get out of there. But Monica had other ideas. She finished the introductions, then made us sit around naked and engage in idle coffee chatter. That fucking pervert Aaron had stripped down to his birthday suit and tugged on his bone while sucking me off. The fruit of his efforts lay in a white blobby mess between my feet. He was quite a bit older than Monica, late forties I guessed, with a soft Pillsbury Doughboy body. His hair was thin on top and graying, and he combed it sideways over a shiny pate. The entire time we sat there he never lost that silly, queer smile. Finally I had to excuse myself and leave so I wouldn't get sick. 

The memory of those events still made my stomach queasy...but also caused my blood to flow southward. Maybe, just maybe—and this was tough to admit—it was because of the perversity of seeing a man with my dick in his mouth while I came down his throat. I wasn't gay, not even bi. Then why had it felt so good? 

To avoid that question, I whirled like a cyclone around the house, cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms and vacuuming the carpets. At two in the afternoon, exhausted, I decided to try Crystal again. She was my best bet, I thought. I hadn't talked to Connie since she'd given me the boot. Crystal's and my separation had occurred simply because of her fear about Carly catching us in flagrante delecto. She didn't know I had smoothed things over with the girl—in a most delightful way. I couldn't tell her that. At least not everything. But maybe I could hint around it, let her know that things with Carly were kosher. 

Her "Hello, Ted" over the phone sounded cool. She had obviously seen my number on the call display. 

"Hey, baby," I said, gushing friendliness. "Long time no see. The leprosy's cleared up, in case that's why you've been avoiding me." 

"You know full well why I've been avoiding you, Ted." Dense, solid ice. 

"Yeah, about that," I said, "I had a little discussion with Carly." 

"You what?" 

"It's okay, everything's cool. Why don't you come over and I'll tell you about it?" 

"I can't do that." 

"Why not? Is Larry there?" I hadn't seen his car in the driveway. 

"No, I just can't." 

"Come on, baby. I've missed you." 

"We can't keep playing this little charade, Ted." 

Shit! "Okay, I promise not to touch you. I just want to talk with you, that's all." 

"We can talk over the phone." 

I hesitated a moment, then: "I said I wouldn't touch, I didn't say I wouldn't look." My voice betrayed my smile. 

There was an ice-melting silence, and then: "All right, but just for a few minutes." Crystal definitely sounded warmer. Flattery will get you everywhere, Teddy my boy. 

"Great," I said. "I'll mix up some margaritas." 

"Coffee's fine." 

Don't press your luck, Ted. 

"Okay, I'll brew some hazelnut cream. See you shortly." 

*** 

Crystal showed up within fifteen minutes. Her sleeveless turquoise summer-knit top made her skin seem even darker than it was. A modest navy-blue skirt revealed two shimmering expanses of luscious brown thighs. I served coffee, then sat with her on the living-room couch. She kept her distance. I didn't intrude. 

"What did you want to talk about, Ted?" Coolness had returned to her voice. She was wearing black leather sandals, her toenails a lively shade of aquamarine. 

"I know you're upset that I told Carly about us," I said, "but, really, she's a very cool kid. I didn't tell her everything, just that you and Larry were having some...problems, and I was trying to comfort you." 

She glared at me. "Oh, is that what you were trying to do?" 

I shook my head. "No, no, but I had to tell her something. Anyway, I offered to buy her and her friends some booze—you know, so I'd have something on her, tit for tat—and I told her I'd name a character in my next novel after her. She thought that was pompous—her word." I chuckled. "Kids, you gotta love 'em. So you see, everything's right as day." 

"When is this novel coming out?" Crystal said. "I'd be interested to read it." 

"Well...I haven't actually started it yet, but that's not the point—" 

"What is the point, Ted?" 

"The point is, there's no reason for us not to see each other." 

"I'm sorry, I can't do that." 

"Why not?" 

"Larry and I...we're in counseling." 

Shit! The dreaded C word. "How long have you been going?" 

"A couple of weeks." 

"What brought that on?" 

Crystal gave me a puzzled look that seemed tinged with anger. "Because I love him." 

"Oh." I tried on sheepish. 

"I had a long talk with Livvy Bresman and Connie Macmillan and the new neighbor, Monica Beldham." 

Double shit! 

"They convinced me that what Larry did was no worse than my own actions." 

Fuck! "You told them about us?" I asked, incredulous. 

"I didn't mention you by name, just that I'd had an affair." 

Phew! "Well...I guess counseling's the right thing to do." 

She looked so sexy, I wanted to tackle her and fuck her till she bled. 

"It is the right thing," she said. She stood up. "Thanks for the coffee." She went to the door and opened it, then looked back at me. "It's nice coming in the front way for a change." She stepped past the threshold, stopped, and turned again. "By the way, how is Alicia?" 

I almost swallowed my Adam's apple. "Alicia?" 

"Yes, Alicia." 

"Alicia who?" 

"Don't play games with me, Ted. When I described her to Livvy and Connie, they told me she sounded quite a bit like one of your girlfriends who used to come around a lot and then suddenly quit." 

I tried to will the fire out of my cheeks. "I can explain." 

Crystal looked like she wanted to spit on my grave. "Don't bother." She slammed the door behind her. 

This was getting fucked up. 

I tried Connie Macmillan again, punching *67 into the dial pad first to hide my number. Still no answer. Now I had a new fear. If Crystal knew who Alicia was, and if she confronted Larry with the DVD, it wouldn't take him long to put two and two together and come pounding at my door. I didn't know what would happen if he did. I wouldn't stand a chance against him in a fistfight, and I didn't look forward to meekly accepting a beating. 

I hopped in my SUV and booted the fifteen miles to Gantry. The clerk at the hardware store told me I'd have to wait three business days for an ID check through the state registration office before he could let me have the handgun. 

I returned to Coventry Park feeling isolated and very vulnerable. I needed a fuck to calm my nerves. Who to call? Connie and Crystal were out of the question. Livvy was in Chicago, but I was sure I'd burned my bridges with her anyway. And Carly and Chloe had treated me like dirt the last time I'd seen them. Besides, I couldn't call Carly with Chuck at home, and Chloe's number was unlisted. That only left Monica among the neighborhood harem. My gut churned at the prospect of seeing her closet-queen husband again. I still couldn't banish from my mind how good it had felt to paint that prick's tonsils with sperm. Even Monica made me feel uneasy. That coy grin of hers intimated she knew more about me than I wanted her to know. Or maybe it was her confidence that unsettled me. She seemed so together, unlike most of the women I'd bedded. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. 

That only left the escorts in my little black book. I hadn't called any in months because I'd been getting so much local pussy. The last ones I'd seen were Alicia and Mandy that night in Chicago with Larry. Alicia was a no-go. If anyone saw her here things could quickly unravel out of control. 

I picked up the phone and called Mandy. She seemed aloof. 

"Hey, kid," I said, "how about coming over for a little fun and games?" 

"I can't tonight, Ted." 

"Big date, huh?" 

"Something like that." Her voice sounded strange. 

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

"No." 

"Then why the ice cubes?" 

"I can't talk about it right now, Ted." 

Anger heated my veins. "When can you talk about it?" 

She hesitated. "Sunday. I'm off Sunday. I'll call you then. Bye." 

The click on the line resounded like a gunshot in my head. Something was wrong. Had Larry found out about our scheme? Was he getting ready to come over and pummel me to a bloody pulp? 

I grabbed a couple of bedsheets from the linen closet and went out to the garage. With a hammer and nails I covered the insides of the garage windows with the sheets, drove the SUV in, and returned to the house. I shut off all the lights and filled a tall tumbler with Chivas and ice. With any luck no one would think I was home. 

I sat on my living-room sofa, drinking and shivering. I would hide out tonight, but what about tomorrow? Monica had invited me to her party. If I didn't show up it would be like an admission of guilt. 

I closed my eyes and tried to soothe my frazzled nerves. Think logically, Ted. 

Despite my paranoia, it was possible—probable, even—that Crystal hadn't blurted anything incriminating to Larry. Confessing to fucking the neighborhood gigolo—a white one, at that—wouldn't be conducive to patching up a marriage. What had happened was probably just a string of unlucky coincidences—Monica catching me with Carly and Chloe; Livvy finding out about it; my rapid-fire seduction by Monica; Crystal discovering it was Alicia who had fucked Larry that night in Chicago; and now Mandy's frigidity over the phone. The events seemed connected in my mind, but I was likely reading too much into them. 

I took a long draft of scotch and laid my head back on the sofa.



Coventry Park Pt. 03



Chapter 12 

Monica had told me the party was scheduled for eight o'clock, the dress casual. I didn't go outside all day Saturday, kept peeking out my living-room window expecting to see Larry. By seven o'clock I had settled down somewhat. If Larry was coming he'd have been here by now, I reasoned. 

I took a hot bath to relax me, then put on beige chinos, a yellow button-down shirt, and a cream-colored sport jacket. I didn't want to be the first one there, so I left at nine, figuring most of the guests would have arrived and I could blend in more inconspicuously. 

When I rang the front doorbell my heart jumped into my throat. Monica's smile allayed my fears. 

"Glad you could make it, Ted." 

I nodded and entered, closing the door behind me. 

"The bar's set up on the back patio," she said. "Go get yourself a drink." 

I nodded again, cursing myself that I couldn't find my words. 

I ordered a Chivas on the rocks from a waistcoated bartender and looked around the large and rather ostentatious patio. Thirty or so people were milling about, many locked in conversations in groups of two, three, and four. The patio was constructed of decorative three-foot-square salmon-colored ceramic tiles with swirl patterns on them. The bar sat under a small white canvas canopy and was attended by two twenty-something boy-men in white long-sleeved dress shirts, black vests, black bowties, and white linen gloves. A high thick hedge surrounded the yard, and another cut across it where the tiles ended, some thirty feet from the house. Pleasant fragrances wafted through the air from the flowerbeds behind. 

In front of the hedge that bisected the yard were several granite benches. Carly and Chloe sat on one with Joel and another boy, whom I assumed was Nathan Podloski. They drank from glasses of Coke, chatting and laughing. I turned my head before they could see me and walked away from the bar, continuing to scan the patio. Monica's husband Aaron was engaged in conversation with Livvy Bresman's husband Chuck. Aaron looked more dapper than I could have imagined, in a sky-blue summer-weight cotton suit that hid his pudgy body well, and a white oxford shirt unbuttoned at the neck. His hair, combed neatly from side to side, looked a little thicker than the balding pate I had seen two days earlier. His lined face appeared now to have a bit of a tan, in contrast to the earlier pastiness I had noted. He was listening to Chuck attentively, nodding his head politely, no doubt hearing the story of the prodigal son or some other uplifting tale. Chuck had foregone a jacket and was wearing navy-blue gabardine pants and a white golf shirt with a logo on the pocket. The shirt ballooned out a bit over his belly due to his small paunch. As I watched them, Aaron's eyes began to wander. When he saw me he smiled, and his sophistication immediately vanished in my mind. Once again I saw the fleshy doughboy body and sperm-slick lips of a few days earlier. My cheeks burned and the scotch curdled in my stomach. I looked away. 

In a far corner of the patio, under the fast-setting orange sun, Crystal Taylor was talking with Greta and Clarence Hillcrest. The Hillcrests had lived in the house currently occupied by Monica and Aaron Beldham. They had moved out about a month ago, after Clarence's employer offered him a promotion that required relocating. I suspected that Greta hadn't put up much of a fight—our five-month relationship, started when her marriage fell into the doldrums, had ended badly. I think she expected me to sweep her off her feet and propose to her, saving her from a loveless situation. But that wasn't my style—at least the proposal part. I'd had to resort to calling her names—pig, cunt, slut—to pry her clinging hands loose from my pant leg. Shortly after that they moved away. I hadn't seen her since. Hadn't wanted to. A fresh pain bit into my gut at the sight of her now. Things on the patio suddenly seemed very claustrophobic. I had to escape. 

I went back into the house and wandered into the kitchen. Monica and a woman I assumed was the caterer were putting the finishing touches on platters of hors d'oeuvres. Oysters on the half shell with little white ceramic tubs of seafood sauce; mini sausage rolls; California-wrap sandwiches of ham and Swiss cheese, and prosciutto, lettuce and tomato, sliced on the diagonal into finger-sized portions. 

Monica saw me and said, "Getting chilly out there?" 

It wasn't. I nodded anyway. 

She smiled. "You're very quiet tonight." 

"I'm a little under the weather," I said. 

My drink was down to ice and water. Monica took it from me. "Why don't I refresh this? You can go downstairs, where it's warmer. There's a bunch more people down there. What's your poison?" 

"Chivas," I said. "Thanks." I left. 

The basement rec room was spacious and open, maybe forty feet square. A large wide-screen TV was mounted on one wall, with an elaborate-looking home theater system in a dark wood entertainment stand beneath it. The TV was off, but soft music played in the background. I was surprised to find a larger crowd down here than the one gathered on the patio outside. Despite the numerous couches and chairs, most were standing, creating a sea of people 

In a few minutes Monica showed up with my drink and then left. I stayed by myself, surveying the room. There were quite a few people I didn't recognize, for which I was grateful. Being a high-powered lawyer, I figured Monica probably had many professional colleagues and acquaintances, and judging by the nattily dressed group in attendance, no doubt that was who most of them were. The overhead lights were dimmed low, a couple of table lamps providing spotlights on a few in the crowd. A fresh pain almost doubled me over when I saw Larry Taylor talking with Connie and Gary Macmillan in a dark corner. I took a large gulp of my drink. 

In the duskiness of the room Larry's skin looked even blacker than normal, and his body huger. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn on our double date with Alicia and Mandy—gray wool slacks and a black silk shirt unbuttoned almost halfway. Connie seemed to be admiring his chest while Larry and Gary talked. Gary was a good-looking guy, friendly and affable. I never could figure out why Connie was unable to keep her eyes, and her hands, to herself. I doubted I was the first dalliance she'd had during the course of her marriage. As I watched her laugh at something Larry said, pressing her hand to his shoulder, running her tongue sexily over her lips, any doubt I had turned into a certainty. She had been equally as flirtatious with me, leaving the message clear, the invitation open. And I had accepted it and had pounded her pussy and ass every chance I got, my like of Gary be damned. I had never made friends with any of the men in Coventry Park. I'd always felt uncomfortable in their presence, many for good reason. The closest I'd come to any kind of camaraderie was with Larry. Until I'd set him up for the fall. That relationship was untenable now. I only hoped it didn't turn murderous. 

Despite my fascination watching Connie's little seductive tricks, I melted back into the crowd to avoid being seen. I swallowed the last of my drink, and was surprised to find Monica at my elbow with another. She took my empty glass, handed me the fresh one, and said, "Feeling better?" 

"Yes. Thanks," I said. 

She hooked her arm in mine and looked at me with gleaming eyes. "Are you enjoying the party?" 

"Sure," I lied. 

The proximity of her body made me remember how tight her pussy had been. My cock began to rise in my pants. I thought I saw her glance down at it briefly before she said, "Can you stay until the end?" 

I took a gulp of my drink and looked at her. The hour or so I'd already spent here felt like a life sentence. But I couldn't get the image of her naked and riding my cock out of my mind. 

"I guess," I said. 

She gave me her coy little grin. "Good," she said, and left again. 

The promise her eyes had held made my cock stand out like a redwood under my pants. Embarrassed, I walked over to a far dark corner. Ten feet away, Reverend Wallis from Coventry United Church was chatting with a woman I didn't know. She was quite attractive, in a short pink sundress and white leather sandals. That didn't help my boner. I sipped on my drink, trying not to watch them too obviously. Even in the washed-out light the woman's long strawberry hair seemed to shine. Reverend Wallis was decked out in black and wearing his clerical collar. His hair was silver, well groomed. I guessed his age at sixty or so. As I watched, his eyes seemed to stray every so often to the woman's substantial cleavage. At first I thought it was my imagination, but then suddenly his hand was on her left breast, squeezing it. My mouth fell open, and I almost dropped my near-empty glass. As I continued to gawk, he popped the woman's breast out of her bodice and kissed her. The kiss almost seemed chaste for a moment, until I saw tongues pushing back and forth. Reverend Wallis drew back a bit and dipped his face down to her breast, and I gasped when his tongue came out. It looked to be a good six or seven inches long, as narrow as a stretched piece of bubblegum. But what shocked me most was the tip of it—it was split into two pointed tines, like a snake's. It flicked over the redhead's nipple, eliciting a moan, and then wrapped itself around it. The woman clutched his head to her bosom, her own head thrown back, her eyes closed. Reverend Wallis's hand went to his fly, and my knees wobbled when he pulled out his cock. It too looked serpentine: at least ten inches long, with a large, flared, cobra-like glans. As I gawked, a smaller version of Reverend Wallis's tongue slithered out from the hole in the end of his dick and burrowed under the woman's short dress. Reverend Wallis slid his hands up her thighs from behind and gripped two firm-looking ass cheeks. His fingernails were yellow, thick, rough, distorted. I watched the little tongue of his cock squeeze under the crotch of the woman's panties. 

I turned my head to find an ally who might be witnessing this—I was sure no one could be missing it. My breath froze in my lungs when I saw Connie Macmillan on her knees, sucking Larry Taylor's big black cock to the root. He was humping her mouth, still talking with Gary, both men smiling as if nothing were happening. As I watched, Gary's hand dropped nonchalantly onto his wife's head and started pushing it back and forth on Larry's oversized log. 

Waves of heat flared into my face, and I felt myself start to sway. I turned to the other guests, certain all their mouths would be agape, and stared in disbelief. The entire crowd was joined in copulatory union, many in groups of three or more. The four kids from the patio were there, Nathan fucking Chloe doggy-style while she knelt on the floor and ate Carly's pussy. Joel had Carly's head in his hands and was plunging his cock in and out of her mouth. I twisted my head around and saw Aaron Beldham on his knees, his white shirt open, his sky-blue jacket pulled halfway down his shoulders. His pants were gone, and he was sucking off a man with black slicked-back hair in a dark Armani suit while the man gripped his head and rammed his cock into his face. A pain ripped through my gut when I saw Crystal Taylor on her knees behind Aaron, her chocolate breasts spilling out the top of her sleek black dress, her delicate pink tongue flicking over Aaron's asshole. Beside them a chain of six other people were tangled, fucking assholes and cunts, sucking cocks and pussies, rimming anuses. I collapsed to my knees, my head bouncing on the carpet. The heat in my body surged to molten. Just when I thought I would pass out, a pair of white high heels stepped in front of me. I looked up and my stomach lurched. Monica Beldham leered down at me with beady red eyes. Sharp jagged teeth showed behind her crooked smile. The last thing I remember was her raising the front of her grape velour dress to show me her bald pussy and the red-horned tattoo covering it. 

Chapter 13 

I opened my eyes slowly, groaning at the pain around my wrists and neck. My brain felt like it had been used in a game of volleyball, and my mouth was thick and dry. I was in a kneeling position, my wrists and neck locked in some kind of medieval stock. My legs were spread, my ankles shackled firmly to the floor behind me. I scanned the room trying to get my bearings. It was my basement rec room. I saw Monica coming down the stairs in white shorts and a mauve tube top. I tried to speak, but something round and plastic-feeling was clogging my mouth. I grunted around it, begging Monica to release me from this cruel practical joke. In my panicked state, the noises I made sounded high-pitched, effeminate. 

She smiled and folded her arms under her breasts. "You don't say?" she said. She came over and grabbed something off a coffee table beside me, held it in front of my face. I grunted and twisted as she squeezed the black leather mask over my head. There were only openings for my eyes and nostrils. The taut leather pressed the ball gag tighter into my mouth, and claustrophobia gripped me. That same girly squeak jumped from my throat when I noticed Crystal on the stairs. I went quiet again when I saw Larry behind her. She was leading him, blindfolded and shirtless, his hands on her shoulders. At the landing she took his arm and brought him toward me. His massive cock was poking down the left leg of his black gym shorts. Crystal was dressed primly in red stretch capri pants and a pink halter top. She walked Larry behind me and put his hands on my ass. "Feel," she said. "See how soft her cheeks are?" 

"Yeah," Larry murmured in his deep gravelly voice. He caressed and squeezed my buttocks, his thumb feathering over my anus. How could he not feel the hair there? I wondered, then realized I'd been shaved. 

"This is the only way you'll cheat on me again," Crystal told him. "At my choosing, with me watching. Right?" 

"Yeah," Larry said. His voice sounded mesmerized as he continued kneading my butt. 

I felt an arm brush the back of my thigh, and heard Crystal say, "Let's get these off of you." For a moment I thought she was going to free me and put an end to this sordid lunacy. Then I felt her pulling down Larry's shorts. His knees lifted, one at a time, pressing against my rear as she took the shorts off his feet. Larry spread my ass cheeks with his big hands, and I felt something nudge my anus. I heard one of them—Crystal, I thought—spit, and felt a large wet glob hit my asshole. The pressure there slowly increased, and Crystal laughed. "I don't know if it's going to fit," she said. I felt her slender finger squeeze inside my anus and begin to twist and turn. A second finger joined it, and then Crystal spat again, spraying out another wet bullet of saliva onto my hole. 

"There," she said. "Let's try it now. 

I squealed like a piglet as Larry's huge cockhead popped past my sphincter. It felt like the biggest turd I had ever taken. The pain was so excruciating I was blinded for a moment. Larry gripped my buttocks and pushed again, and bright lights exploded before my eyes. 

"She's fucking tight," he said. 

"Isn't she?" Crystal said. I could hear the smile, the mirth in her voice. I wanted to kill her. 

"She's squirming around like she's never had it before," Larry said 

"She hasn't," Crystal said. 

"Sweet," Larry said. 

He dug his fingernails into my buttocks and drove his giant pole twelve inches up my ass. I squealed out another high-pitched Eeee! around the ball gag, writhing and jerking my body and head around. I had never felt anything so painful, and had to squeeze my eyes shut. It felt like his cockhead was up in my guts, rearranging my organs. My neck was raw from the stock—bleeding, I thought—but I couldn't stop grinding it around. It was blessed relief when Larry's cock began to withdraw, feeling more natural coming out than going in. But the relief was short-lived when, a second later, he punched it inside me again, his balls slapping hard against mine. He started pummeling me like a mechanical bull, gyrating his hips around rodeo-style, relentless, unfeeling. 

I opened my eyes and saw Aaron Beldham descending the stairs, naked, his jellyrolls jiggling. He walked up to the stock quietly, got on his knees beside it, and eased his head between it and my legs. The touch of his balding pate against my stomach made me cringe, and my anal muscles contracted involuntarily. 

"Fuck!" Larry said, and punched his pole into me again. 

I tried to unclench my rectum to lessen the pain, but when Aaron's warm mouth closed over my cock, my asshole seized up again. 

"I think she's liking it now," Larry said, driving into me harder. 

"I think so, too," Crystal said. "Give it to her, baby. Come inside her." 

Against all my wishes, my cock began to harden in Aaron's sucking, slurping mouth. Between my squeals and the harsh slap-slap of our bodies, I knew Larry couldn't hear the sloppy sounds Aaron was making. 

Monica walked up in front of me and pulled her white shorts down to her knees. Her pussy leered at me, lewdly, sweetly. I was shocked to see that the devil tattoo was no longer there. Stupidly, I tried to flick my tongue out at her smooth tanned flesh. It mashed against the ball gag. 

"I'm close," Larry grunted, pounding me gorilla-like. 

"Do it," Crystal said. "Come in his ass." 

Larry froze. "His ass?" 

"I meant her ass," Crystal said. "Come on, baby, give it to her." 

Larry pumped me hard five more times, then buried his cock balls-deep. I felt his hot splooge explode in my anal channel at the same time that the semen blasted out of my cock and into Aaron's mouth. I couldn't help it—I started rocking my hips, trying to get my dick as deep into Aaron's throat as possible. 

"She's fucking me back. Finally," Larry said, giving me his short strokes. His ejaculations felt like hard burning bullets against my tender inner walls. My whole insides felt drenched with hot semen. But that didn't stop the satisfied feeling as my dick slowly shriveled in Aaron's mouth. 

Chapter 14 

"Mommy, are you okay?" I said. 

Mandy scribbled my words onto the silver-coiled steno pad on her knee. She moaned. 

She was sitting in a chair ten feet in front of the stock, with Livvy Bresman's face between her legs eating her. Behind Livvy, my ex-friend Bobby J was punching his eight-inch cock hard up her golden-fleeced cooze. They had fed me my lunch of Gerber's mashed peas and applesauce. Now it was time to work...and fuck. 

"Okay, what's next?" Mandy asked. 

"That last bit is in quotation marks," I said. 

She pecked a couple of bird's feet onto the page. "Okay." 

I said, "The voice of Connie's six-year-old son Jason sang through the locked bedroom door." 

Mandy looked at me wide-eyed. "You did her while her son was in the house?" 

Shame returned, filling my cheeks with heat. It wasn't the first time. "Yes," I said. 

Mandy smirked at me, holding Livvy's head between her thighs. "You really are nasty, aren't you?" 

I didn't reply. 

I got through maybe a thousand words before the three of them came in a frenzy of whoops and moans. Mandy and Livvy sucked Bobby J's cock clean, then put on their clothes, ready to leave. 

"Wait!" I said. " I have to pee." 

Livvy looked at Bobby. He came over, pulled down the front of my diaper, and with a pair of tongs maneuvered my dick into the top of a stainless steel canister. It felt sore after the three-a-day blowjobs I'd been getting from Aaron this past week. 

When I was done, Bobby took the canister over to the laundry sink, dumped it, and rinsed it. He came back and set it under my dick again. 




Coventry Park Pt. 03



"Can't you guys stay just a little longer?" I said. I hated the whine in my voice. It was commonplace anymore. Of all the punishments I received, isolation was the worst. 

Mandy was chewing hard on a piece of gum. "I've got a date," she said. 

"Maybe later," Livvy said, and gave Bobby's cock a meaningful squeeze through his jeans. 

"What about my diaper?" I said, no longer worried about my whine. 

"What about it?" Livvy said. 

My cheeks heated again. "It's dirty." 

Mandy made a face. "Ewww! Sorry, not our job. Ta-ta." She twiddled her fingers at me, and the three of them left. 

Ex-nurse Connie Macmillan usually handled that disgusting chore, but it had been worth a shot. 

*** 

Sometime later, after her work had ended for the day, I supposed, Monica Beldham came down the stairs. I didn't see her at first, with my head turned to the side so I could suck on the nipple of the plastic water bottle mounted to the stock. 

"That's titillating," Monica said, giving me her coy grin. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit and white blouse. She pulled up her skirt and showed me her twat. "You want to suck on this for a while?" 

The stock felt like a millstone of shame around my neck. At least they had padded it, and tended to my wounds. "Yes, please," I said. 

She pulled a high stool in front of me, sat on it, and raised her feet up onto the top rungs. I flicked my tongue out at her smooth, fragrant snatch. 

"Ooo, that's good," she cooed. She slid her hips forward and grabbed my head. I sucked and slurped on her slit and clit for a few minutes, then drove my tongue deep into her hole. Between moans she said, "How's the new novel coming?" 

I mumbled into her pussy. She eased back far enough so I could speak. 

"I don't know if it's going to be long enough for a novel," I said, licking her juices off my lips. 

That coy grin returned. "Maybe we'll have to come up with more content." 

"You can't seriously think you can keep me here forever." 

"We'll see. Nobody seems to be missing you." 

That, sadly, was the truth. 

She had coerced me with promises of freedom into providing the PIN number for my bank card and the passwords for my bank and investment websites. All my bills were being paid. The erotica websites I occasionally wrote for may have called to enquire about my absence, but I knew no one there would pursue me for long. As for the other neighborhood women...they were all in on this together. For someone who had banged them all so discreetly, kept them so blissfully separate from one another, it was embarrassing to admit this conspiracy was taking place. 

I sucked Monica to an orgasm, relishing the tang of her cream as it filled my throat. 

"God, you've got a good mouth," she said. "I think Connie's coming over a little later to get some, too." 

With the promise of Connie, I didn't mention my soiled diaper. 

Monica got off the stool and straightened her skirt. 

"Why, Monica?" I asked for the hundredth time. 

She smiled and gave me the same answer she always did. "Think about it, Ted." 

THE END