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Chapter 3


Slowly Suzanne opened her eyes and gazed around her bedroom. She
stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The early morning light
filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around her. For a
split second she began to smile, looking forward to another day; then
the memory of the experiences with Donald and Ted came flooding back,
swamping out the happy anticipation and replacing it with a tide of
renewed horror.

With great care, she lowered her hands to her crotch and felt her
mound, probing inside with her fingers where the still-tender folds of
flesh told her it had not been a dream. Her finger touched her
clitoris, and a hot sea of sensuality swept over her, reminding her of
Ted's penis as it penetrated her. She touched her clitoris again, and
once more the feeling gushed through her loins. She really wasn't hurt,
she told herself.

With a sigh, she relaxed, letting her fingers coax her sexuality into a
rising wave of ecstasy. Slowly she gripped the shaft of her clitoris,
massaging the end with her fingers while her passions rose, and she
began moving her hips slowly, her mind filled with the memory of Ted's
swollen organ plunging in and out of her vagina.

With her other hand she caressed her stomach, sliding up to her breasts
and tweaking the nipples gently, bringing them to a state of erection,
their hard little nubs so sensitive as her fingers brushed over them.
She drew saliva from her mouth and rubbed around her nipples, making
them slick and reminding her of the hungry mouth that had enclosed them
and the ravenous tongue that flicked back and forth, exciting her
beyond words.

In her mind she recalled the heavy breathing, the excited hiss of his
words as he muttered obscene comments on their union, and with each
"Fuck me, fuck me," she found her loins quivering with additional
eroticism as her finger rubbed quicker and quicker around her clitoris.
Her hips were moving faster now up and down, just the way they had when
she finally began getting with it and knew that Ted's massive phallus
was the first thing that had really brought her knowledge of true
satisfaction, a mind-blasting experience that shattered all her
previous ideas of ultimate ecstasy. Yes, she thought, it is good, this
is what I've always wanted; I've wanted to be taken, to be ravished, to
feel a man on top of me, doing whatever he wanted with my body, giving
himself all the sensations he could get from her hot, snapping cunt
that clung greedily around that magnificent shaft as it slid into her,
fitting so perfectly all the way into her vagina, its flat, wide head
titillating the opening of her womb.

Her fingers pinched harder at her nipples, and her fingers pushed
deeper into her canal, and in her mind it was Ted's organ there,
propelling her faster and faster towards her own climax. She felt her
insides begin to convulse, and her body was no longer heaving but
trembling, shaking from head to toe, and she stifled the urge to scream
out at the top of her voice, "Fuck me, you big-cocked stud, give it all
to me, every goddamn inch of that big thick wonderful thing, jam it
right up my cunt as far as you can and shoot your jism into me!"

She saw Ted's face above hers, and heard once more the giggling of his
brother, his face glued between her legs, watching every movement while
his hand manipulated his own throbbing cock. She could almost swear she
could smell his earthy, male odor around her, filling her nostrils with
extra stimulation. Then she felt her vagina quiver with its final
orgasm, and her finger seized her clitoris as her other hand squeezed
her breast and she felt her juices flowing and she cried out softly,
moaning and twisting on the bed as she felt herself being lifted high
up on a cloud of heavenly ecstasy. Then, just as she felt she had
reached the peak of her climax, she heard a voice, "Suzanne ... please
... please ..." and in her mind she saw the outline of a penis in the
dim moonlight, and it was Sam's voice ringing in her brain. Her mouth
opened and she screamed out, "Sam ... Sam." Then all images disappeared
from her imagination, and she opened her eyes to see the sun streaming
through the venetian blinds, striping the carpet with a bright glare.
She withdrew her hand from beneath the sheet and stared at her fingers,
still slick with the juices from her vagina. With a shudder she threw
back the covers and walked quickly to the bathroom, turning on the
shower and stepping into the stinging spray even before it had warmed
up. She closed her eyes and stood, her skin flinching beneath the
chilly stream, and only opened her eyes again as the warm water began.
In the distance she heard the clatter of heels on the stairs, and from
below on the street the scream of tires mingled with the blast from a
car horn. As she stepped out of the shower and began toweling herself,
she bit her lip and once again pictured Sam's face before her. "Oh,
Sam," she whispered, "Where are you, where are you?"

* * *

Suzanne found it difficult to concentrate on her classes that day.
Mechanically she went through the motions of greeting her friends, of
taking notes, of listening to her instructors, and eating a steerburger
and a Coke at Verne's for lunch. Yvonne was in the bar, playing pool
with Jeff, a young medical student whose youth and virile appeal had
given him quite a reputation around town as being a ladies' man.
Suzanne watched them both as they pranced around the pool table, Jeff
exhibiting a boyish enthusiasm for his prowess and Yvonne doing her
best Bette Davis impersonation as she studied each shot before lowering
her practiced eye to the pool cue and sent the ball lazily across the
green felt. Suzanne watched, thinking how their way of playing matched
their personalities. Jeff took a few seconds to decide, then shot fast
and hard, and usually made the pocket he aimed for; he probably picked
his sleeping partners the same way, Suzanne thought. Yvonne took her
time, considered all the angles, and then played slow and safe, her
ball usually trickling across the table and dropping in the pocket
almost as its momentum ran out. But then Yvonne was probably quite a
bit older than Jeff; or would it be better to say Jeff was quite a bit
younger than Yvonne? What difference did it make? It's not the age of
your men, Yvonne had said once, but how well they can age you. Suzanne
wondered how many years Jeff had put on Yvonne since they had met. She
knew they had been going together, at least that's what the campus
gossip had said. But then Jeff went with just about anyone; rumor had
it he had donated his penis to the Smithsonian Institute upon his death
to be enshrined as a national monument. After all, there were still
quite a number who hadn't seen it, let alone had the pleasure of its
company. Penis ... cock ... Suzanne shook her head and tried to finish
her steerburger, but found herself chewing without enjoyment; tasting
without taste. She pushed the plate away in disgust, staring at the
meat between the bun and again remembering another piece of meat she
had chewed on, a hard, throbbing member with a broad flat head, and
again Ted's obscene words rang in her ears.

Yvonne's husky guffaw echoed through the bar, and Jeff threw the pool
cue on the floor. His explosive "Shit!" caused several customers to
turn, look and grin. The regulars at Verne's were well used to Yvonne's
prowess at the pool table; her feigned concentration and naive approach
concealed a pool shark from way back. She picked up her glass of beer
and sashayed up to Suzanne.

"Well, darling, did you see, did you see?" she gloated, and then as
Jeff walked up behind her, his handsome face frowning, she added,
"You're really not mad at me, are you, baby?"

Jeff grinned at Suzanne, and slumped into a chair, sucking his teeth.
"Mad? At you?" He grunted, and winked at Suzanne. "It'll take more than
a pool game to get me mad."

Yvonne laughed loudly again, drained her glass, and rummaged in her
oversized purse for a cigarette.

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

Suzanne sat, toying with her glass of Coke, conscious that Jeff's eyes
were fastened on her. Finally she looked at him almost defiantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he countered.

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

"Sure. I always stare at groovy chicks."

Suzanne flushed.

"I am not a groovy chick," she snapped, sorry for her words the moment
she uttered them; she knew she sounded pompous and puritanical.

Jeff laughed and stood up.

"You said it," he murmured, and wandered off back into the pool table
area of the bar.

Suzanne bit her lip and wanted to burst into tears. She knew how
idiotic she must have sounded; but she couldn't help it. She was
conscious of his sexuality across the table; she was aware of his
reputation, and something in her responded. She knew that she wanted
him, she wanted to find out if those rumors about his penis size were
true, she wanted him to fuck her. Fuck ... Fuck ... yes, she wanted
that. She wanted him to ...

With a toss of her head, she rose and made her way quickly out of the
bar, knowing that if she stayed she might either burst into tears or
spend the afternoon, get drunk and go home with Jeff and ...

Her mind was a mixture of frustration and self-loathing as she walked
up Woodward Avenue and turned down Forest Avenue to the campus,
suddenly realizing that unless she hurried she would be late for her
sociology class. Damn. What was wrong with her today? She knew what was
wrong, and the slight tenderness in her crotch reminded her with every
step she took. Oh, God, what if those little bastards came back?

* * *

She sat through class hardly hearing a word, her mind filled with the
memory of the night before. Ted's words again rang in her ears: "You're
a good lay. Good enough for a second helping." Did he mean that, or was
he just trying to scare her? She finally decided he was only trying to
frighten her enough to keep her mouth shut; obviously they wouldn't be
back. It had been one of those rare opportunities, and even they would
realize that she wouldn't even open the door to them again. So it was
just an experience; and even though her ravenous mounting sexuality
kept hinting that it had been wonderful, that she had felt it was
something she would want again and again, she deeply regretted that it
hadn't been Sam who bad been the first. She had always wanted to go to
her marriage bed a virgin; now it was impossible. She'd have to make up
some story for Sam; maybe she could tell him she'd done a lot of
horseback riding and broken her hymen that way. Or maybe at gym class,
or riding a bicycle. No, he'd never believe that. Or would he? She knew
Sam loved her; at least, she felt he did. Oh, please, let him love me.
I need him so much. Sam ... Sam ...

"Suzanne, is something wrong?"

She looked up to see her instructor standing next to her, a look of
concern on his kindly face. She started, and then realized the class
was empty, and she had been sitting there, tears streaming down her
face, unaware that the others had left. Embarrassedly she wiped her
cheeks, tried to smile, and stumbled to her feet.

"No, no, nothing," she said quietly. "I'm all right. Honest. I was just
..." She paused, and then fled from the room.

She hurried back to the apartment, and climbed the stairs with her
pulse racing. She knew Donald and Ted would be waiting outside her
door; she knew it. She stared as she turned the top of the stairs and
saw the empty hallway. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door,
entered, and locked it behind her; then she collapsed into a chair and
sobbed for ten minutes.

She finally composed herself, went to the bathroom and washed her face.
She stared at herself in the mirror and tried to smile. She was being
ridiculous, she knew; nothing could change what had happened, and she
was just thankful that she had not suffered any grievous harm. She
remembered reading of rape cases where the woman was beaten, her face
scarred and her body slashed; at least all they did was have their way
sexually, and looking back, she knew it hadn't been as bad as she had
thought at the time. She knew she had enjoyed it, really and truly
enjoyed the act; but then she knew that was only normal. After all,
what girl wouldn't enjoy having intercourse with a young man as well
endowed as Ted? Any young man, for that matter.

She patted her face dry, put on some lipstick, combed her hair, and
decided that she was feeling much better. She went into the living
room, got out her notes, and began studying.

She had her writings about the family she had been studying, Donald's
family, Ted's family; oh, God, how could she possibly continue on that
subject? Every time she thought about it, she would remember. Maybe the
best thing would be to destroy that project and start another. There
were plenty of families in the area that she could investigate without
being plagued with unpleasant memories.

She was just about to rip the pages into pieces and put them in the
wastebasket when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and her
heart jumped. She knew those footsteps; they had the youthful ring of a
young boy, and she knew it could only be Donald. Petrified, she froze
at the desk, waiting.

The footsteps grew louder, and then stopped outside her door. A second
later, the gentle knock sounded like a thunderclap to her ears. She
dropped her pencil and whirled around in her chair, facing the door.
Her heart was beating unnaturally loud, and her hands began to tremble.
She knew if she remained quiet, he would probably go away; but what if
he had been watching the building and had seen her come in? What if he
knew she was there? He might continue banging on her door and there
might be a scene, and he might say something which ... Oh, God.

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

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

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

"Go away."

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

What on earth could there be so important to this boy? She knew it was
a trick to get her to open the door.

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

She heard him laugh softly.

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

She rose from the desk and walked over to the door, pausing a moment,
her handle on the knob. She could hear his heavy breathing on the other
side.

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

"No, I want to come in and talk to you. I want to tell you how sorry I
am about what happened."

There was a note of contrition in his voice, and she pictured his
fresh, youthful face, his large innocent eyes. Maybe he did want to
talk; maybe he was sorry.

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

There was a click as she unlocked the door, turned the handle and
pulled. Donald was standing outside, and as their eyes met, she saw
that he must be sorry; there was an expression of abject sorrow on his
young face.

"Come in."

Slowly he walked in; she shut the door, and stood staring at him,
somewhat defiantly. He shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly,
and grinned at her.

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

He moved over to the couch and looked at her.

"You mind if I sit down?"

She shook her head and walked over to the large chair and slowly sat
down, staring at him curiously.

"I want to say I'm sorry about yesterday," Donald began, looking down
at the floor, and playing with his hands. "It was Ted, you know that,
don't you? He's a real horny one, and once he gets going, nothing stops
him."

Suzanne sniffed. "Obviously you've been with him before when he's ..."
She paused, not wanting to say the words.

He nodded. "Sure. We've screwed girls together before, but he always
starts it. He's been around longer'n I have, and I really don't think
about it as much as he does. He told me that's all he likes to do: fuck
girls. I guess he does it every day."

"And what about you?"

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

"When you can," Suzanne repeated the words, her voice dripping sarcasm.
"Why don't you admit you screw around just as much as your brother?
I've heard stories, and I think they're true. All you kids in this
neighborhood do is screw. No wonder there are so many little bastards
running around."

She amazed herself at the venom in her voice. But she felt if she
showed him she was still angry, he might not try anything; or did she
really want him to try something again?

Donald looked up at her and smiled.

"I know you're mad, and I don't blame you. But I did want you to know I
still like you a lot, and I'm sorry. Can we still be friends? Can I
still come up and help you sometimes?"

Suzanne's eyes widened.

"Still be friends? What do you mean? You're goddamn lucky I haven't
called the police and had you and you brother thrown in jail. No,
Donald, I think you'd better leave now, and don't bother to come back."

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

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

"Well, saying you're sorry doesn't help any. And I know if you keep
coming around, maybe your brother will, too, and then ..." Suzanne's
words trailed off, and she became conscious of Donald's gaze, shifting
from her face down to her breasts and over her body. She could sense
the aura of desire in his manner, and she recognized the look on his
face. "Donald, I mean it. I want you to go now."

His eyes came back and fastened on hers, very steadily. It was a most
mature look for a young boy, and a very knowing look.

"You don't want me to go, you know that, Suzanne. And I don't want to.
I want to stay here with you." He rose quickly and came across,
kneeling in front of her, and staring up at her earnestly. "Please,
Suzanne, I like you a lot, I really do. I don't want you to think I'm
real bad or anything." He put out his hand and touched hers.

Suzanne felt a prickle of apprehension, but at the same time she felt a
demanding warmth flood her groin. The boy's closeness, his sexuality,
his earnestness, all combined to arouse her and bring back the memory
of the day before, not with shame or fear, but with perverse desire.
She remembered his penis, jutting out from his pants, almost as large
as his brother's.

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

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

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

With a sudden movement, he raised up, brought his head forward, and
kissed her on the lips before she could move away. The softness of his
skin against hers, his male animal smell, his forceful approach, all
this and much more swept the final vestige of resistance away. She
didn't have to say anything; the boy knew.

Still on his knees, he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her
to him, embracing her and kissing her passionately, his tongue forcing
itself between her lips. She felt the sensuous warmth of his chest
against her breasts and his hands gripping her tightly. His mouth
rubbed back and forth over her own, and she felt her passions rising to
fever pitch. Desperately, she broke away.

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

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

"Ridiculous? Ain't nothin' ridiculous about me wanting you. I want some
of the same stuff Ted got yesterday." His eyes flamed, and he bent his
head down to hers, forcing his mouth against her lips and pushing her
head back violently while his hands held her tightly. Suzanne felt a
wave of nausea rise, to be quickly replaced by her bubbling desire, the
slow surge of wetness in her vagina and the trembling in her loins. Oh,
God, it was going to happen again; she mustn't let it. She mustn't. But
stronger than that, her sexuality screamed out: Yes, yes, I want it, I
want this boy with his strong, pulsating cock pushed right up into me.
I want it.

Desperately she beat on his back with her fists, and then realized how
strong he was. His muscular arms held her firmly, and his chest was
pushing against her breasts, rubbing her nipples into hardness. Finally
he released her and stared into her eyes with a mixture of warmth and
defiance.

"Okay, who's kidding who?" he said softly, taking her hand and pulling
it down to his crotch where his rising hardness told her he was almost
ready; and within her heart, she knew she was never more ready.

His fingers caressed her breast, and she sat immobile, hardly believing
what was happening, and numbly aware that her own desires were
screaming out for the same thing he was after.

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

The impact of his words brought her plummeting back to reality. She
stared at him for a second, and then quickly pushed him backwards and
rose to her feet, making a rush for the front door. Her hand was on the
handle when she felt his fingers close around her ankle and jerk her
backwards viciously. She tripped and fell, breaking her fall with her
arm. A stab of pain shot through her, and she whimpered.

He was on top of her in a flash, and his weight pinned her down. His
mouth began biting her neck and her ears while his hips ground his
hardening sex into her. Through their clothes she could feel its
demanding pressure against her vulva.

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

He laughed softly and then rolled off her, staring into her eyes with
an expression which she took to be a marginal glimmer of tenderness.

"You know you want it, baby, just like I do. Quit horsing around. We
don't have time for all that shit."

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

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

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

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

His hand shot out and slid up the inside of her thigh, and his fingers
poked through her underwear into her canal. Electric tingles suffused
her body, and she shuddered.

The next moment, his hands had seized her panties, and with a strong
tug he had pulled them down from her waist, and she felt the air fan
against her naked crotch. His other hand fumbled with his fly, and the
noise of his zipper sounded like trumpets of doom. As if in a
nightmare, Suzanne watched as his sex sprang out of his pants, thick,
throbbing and ready for action.

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

His weight pinned her to the floor, and she gasped as his chest pressed
hard against her breasts, and she felt the warm rod of his organ push
between her legs, sliding up towards its goal.

Her arms tried to beat against him, but the rising strength of her own
desires sapped her energy. Helplessly she relaxed as she felt the end
of his penis touch her, penetrate and then slide all the way into her
vagina. He sucked his breath in and moaned.

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

He began moving his hips, driving his organ in and out of her
violently, and with each thrust she felt her clitoris tingle and her
loins respond. Almost automatically she began undulating her hips,
gripping his shaft as it entered her, feeling its thickness send chills
of delight all the way through her body. As his broad head hit bottom,
she felt it at the opening to her womb. He fit absolutely perfectly;
they blended their bodies and everything was right.

"Yes, yes," Suzanne heard herself crying out, "yes, give it to me; give
me all you've got, you wonderful sexy boy. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Her hands clawed at his back, tearing at his thin shirt and leaving
trails across his white skin. His mouth was chewing at her neck, his
tongue licking across her, sending more erotic thrills through her.
Hardly conscious of what she was doing, she undid her blouse and pulled
her bra down, letting her breasts flop out.

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

Donald needed no urging. His rough sexuality guided him. His teeth
closed around the end of one nipple, biting, and Suzanne felt the stab
of pain blended with exquisite pleasure.

"More, more," she cried out, and she heard a suppressed giggle from him
as he responded. Vaguely she heard the tearing of cloth, and then
looked down to see that his hands had ripped off her blouse, her bra,
her skirt. The thin material had given way beneath his muscular arms,
and she was lying naked under him, her breasts flopping from side to
side with each movement of her body, and her crotch pinned by his
penis, thrusting in and out with sublime regularity. She stared down.
He had raised himself up on his arms, and was looking at his penis as
it entered and withdrew. It was a beautiful organ, she thought; not as
thick as Ted's, but prettier. It was smooth and white, without any
veins, just a solid shaft that was slick and erotic looking, sliding in
and out of her oozing, slippery cunt. For a split second, she realized
that she had more hair in her bush than he had around his organ. Oh,
the infinite appeal of that young, lithe body with its large cock
fucking her!

"More, more," she cried out, lifting her legs and wrapping them around
his waist, allowing him deeper penetration. His forehead was beaded
with sweat, and she noticed his male musky odor had grown stronger. She
made a passing mental note to record in her research that the poorer
classes do not use deodorants. So much the better, she thought evilly;
that smell excited her to an even greater degree. She felt she was
being ravished by some animal, a primitive male, without regard for
anything but the sex.

"Fuck, fuck," she whispered, almost to herself, and Donald grunted in
response as he continued sucking and chewing on her breasts, his body
once more lying atop her own, their hips moving together in sensuous
rhythm, each gaining the most from the act.

Suzanne felt her vagina tingling, heating up; she felt hotter than she
had ever felt before, and deep within her she felt the rise of her
final massive convulsion that told her she was about to experience her
first climax. Her hands clawed his back with greater intensity, and she
began moaning loudly.

Then with a flash of light in her eyes she tightened around his shaft,
gripping it within her. He groaned and wriggled, and then she felt his
prick expand, and within the warm rush of his seed blended with her own
juices.

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

"Come, come."

Her body seemed to lift off the floor; she was no longer aware of the
hard surface that had been rubbing against her back. She was no longer
conscious of where she was, what was happening. She only knew the
consummate ecstasy that spread through every part of her body, her own
orgasm blending with that of the boy whose hard spurting prick inside
her was giving him the same ultimate thrill that she experienced.
Slowly their bodies subsided, and they lay together on the floor.
Donald's hands were stroking her hair, and she could feel his cock
slowly getting soft and slipping out of her. She stared at him, and he
smiled at her warmly.

"That was the best I've ever had," he murmured, all the roughness,
violence and antagonism gone from his voice. He sounded like a small
boy who had just been given some candy.

Suzanne rolled over on her stomach and slowly got to her feet, her torn
clothes hanging down forlornly. With an impatient gesture, she pulled
them off and stood naked. Donald's eyes ran over her appreciatively.

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

"Thanks," she said briefly, and walked into the bathroom, reaching
behind the door for her robe. She saw her reflection in the mirror and
paused a moment; then she realized she wanted to urinate, and closed
the door and sat down on the commode. A few minutes later, she flushed
the toilet, tied the robe around her and opened the bathroom door.

"Donald ..." she began, and then her blood froze as she saw Donald
sitting in the chair, and opposite him on the couch, Ted, grinning from
ear to ear, sitting beside a young Negro boy.

"Well, well, looks like you're all ready for action," said Ted. "Come
here, Suzanne, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Clayton, say hello
to the best goddamn lay in town."

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

"Hi," he said, his voice deep and rich, sounding more like a mature man
than the eighteen-year-old he obviously was.

Suzanne stared at Donald, and her eyes were icy.

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

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

"What's the difference? We're here," said Ted, rising and walking
towards her. She took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the
door, but not quick enough. Ted's foot shot out and he pushed the door
back, grabbing Suzanne's arm, pulling her out into the living room. Her
robe gaped open, and Clayton gave a low whistle.

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

Ted pushed her forward, and she whirled on him.

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

"You know you won't," said Ted lazily. "What's it gonna look like with
three of us up here? And if the cops come, I'll say you asked us up for
a blowjob at a buck apiece."

Suzanne laughed contemptuously. "Try it," she said defiantly. "Any
cop'd know I wouldn't ask a colored boy up to my apartment."

Clayton's face broke into a knowing grin.

"Well, well, we got a Grosse Pointe bigot here," he drawled.
"Whatsamatter with colored folk? You afraid it'll rub off? It doesn't,
I promise you. You'll be just as clean afterwards as before, but maybe
not so pure."

He laughed coarsely and bounded across the room, seizing her by the arm
and pulling her body to his. She only realized then how tall he was,
and how powerful. His arms closed around her, and she felt his wide,
thick lips close around her mouth, and her stomach heaved. She was
conscious of his odor, the same masculine smell that she found
stimulating on Ted and Donald, but more intense, more musky. Her head
reeled, and she struggled ineffectually. His hands tore at her robe,
and she felt it slip off her shoulder and then fall away. His lips
slipped down to her shoulder and licked her passionately, while his
hands searched for her breasts and clung. She whimpered and thought she
was going to faint. That was it! Her mind suddenly grasped at straws.
If she fainted, they'd probably get seared and leave.

Suzanne let her body go limp, a dead weight, and she felt his frame
stiffen as his arms held her. She kept her eyes closed and remained
silent.

"The chick's passed out," said Clayton, lowering her to the floor and
letting her body collapse full length at his feet.

Ted laughed. "No matter," he said. "She's still got that cunt. Let's
take her in turns. Hey ..." He laughed again, more loudly. "Even
better. You fuck her in front, and I'll cornhole her at the same time.
Real freaky."

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

She heard Donald's voice.

"Hey, no, man, that ain't right ..." he began, and Ted's voice cut
through the air like a pistol shot.

"Shut up!"

"I won't," said Donald. "She's a groovy girl, and that's no fair. Wait
till she can fuck us proper. It ain't no fun fucking if she isn't with
it."

Clayton chuckled and began undressing.

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

Suzanne opened her eyes and stared terrified at the young men. Clayton
had his shirt off and was just lowering his trousers, Ted's pants were
off, and he was taking off his shirt. His sex was half-hard and
swinging between his legs.

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

"Oh, no," Suzanne breathed. "Please. Donald ..." She looked at Donald,
who was in the process of undressing. "Donald ... help me!"

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

"I ... we did it once," Donald mumbled, and Suzanne knew that he was
not altogether agreeing with his brother's attitude. "But take it easy
with her. She's a nice girl."

Clayton's clothes were completely off, and he stood over Suzanne,
waving his penis at her.

"Sure she's a nice girl, and all nice girls want some black cock up
their pussy," he said. "Ever see one this big, little Miss Grosse
Pointe?"

She stared fascinated at the organ, which slowly began rising to its
full height. She knew that Ted's penis was big, but Clayton's exceeded
his by at least two inches, and it was much thicker. She could hardly
believe it, watching the dark brown shaft throb and expand in the
colored boy's hand as he manipulated the foreskin up and down, exposing
the dark purplish head, already sticky with lube that oozed from the
large slit across the end. It was a frightening sight, and her eyes
remained on his crotch, almost unable to believe what they saw.

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

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

He dropped to his knees, pulled her legs apart roughly, and crawled
forward, lowering his penis until the end of it was touching her
stomach, just above her bush. With his hand, he moved the shaft back
and forth across her skin, leaving a wet trail of lube behind it.

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

Suzanne looked over at Ted and Donald, who were standing, watching, and
playing with their penises at the same time. Ted saw her and moved
forward, dropping to his knees above her head, and lowering his prick
towards her mouth.

"Suck, bitch, suck it good," he commanded, and she felt the end of it
on her lips. Stubbornly she kept her mouth shut, and then she felt the
sharp sting of his hand as it descended on her cheek. "I said, suck it,
goddamn," he swore, and she opened her mouth and he pushed his prick
into her. Again she tasted his flesh, hot and throbbing, and she closed
her lips around the head, sucking hard, and flicking her tongue across
the end, pushing into the slit and tasting the lube. "That's more like
it," said Ted, easing himself into a better position to thrust his
organ in and out of her mouth.

Clayton had continued rubbing his prick across her skin, all around her
vaginal opening, down the inside of her thighs, and she felt her
responses quickening, despite her terrible fear of him and the size of
his penis. Her vagina began oozing its juices once more, and she felt
herself wanting it, wanting to feel it slide into her the way Donald's
had slid in just earlier that afternoon.

But Clayton was playing a teasing, waiting game. He was in no hurry to
insert his organ; he preferred to play around, rub the end against her,
up and down her legs, and over her stomach, even across her breasts.
She felt the end of it touching her nipples, exciting them and making
them even harder than they were.

"Hey, Donald, you come here and suck her tits," Clayton said. "She's
blowin' Ted. You can suck her tits, and I'll let her have this meat.
I'm gettin' ready to feel her cunt wrap itself around, provided it can
take it, of course." He laughed coarsely again. Out of the corner of
her eye Suzanne saw Donald scooting forward, squatting beside her, one
hand on his penis, as he closed his mouth around her breast and began
sucking her nipple, running his tongue across it quickly.

Then she felt her legs being jerked wide apart and the rough coarse
skin of the Negro's thighs brush against her own soft white flesh as he
positioned himself and then lowered his hips until the end of his penis
was touching her vulva. His hands came forward and spread her lips. She
heard him whisper, "Oh, wowee, I cain't fuck that. Not yet. Gotta eat a
little first. Gotta taste that sweet white pussy."

His head descended, and she felt his thick lips and tongue push into
her flesh and his tongue lick up and down her clitoris, sending quivers
of delight through her loins. Up and down, in and out, all around, his
tongue knew exactly what it was doing.

Suzanne suddenly felt a perverse desire to match her tongue movements
with Clayton's, licking across Ted's penis in the same rhythm as the
colored boy was licking her clitoris. The undeniable sensual
titillation had engulfed her mind and body, and she gave herself over
to the sensations which prickled across her skin and tingled from every
nerve. She felt Donald's mouth licking her breasts while his hand
manipulated his penis between his thighs; why let that cock go to
waste? She reached out and pushed his own hand away, seizing the shaft
and squeezing it. She heard him moan, and his tongue licked more
furiously at her nipples. Her other hand pushed underneath Ted's
buttocks and began caressing his anus. She heard him laugh, and then
his voice broke the silence: "Yeah, baby, yeah!" And she sucked his
penis with renewed vigor as she felt Clayton's mouth servicing her
between her legs. Then suddenly Clayton raised up, and she looked over
at him, just as he lowered his hips and she felt the end of his shaft
enter her.

With a slow thrust, he pushed in, and she shuddered and gasped at the
thickness of his prick. It felt like her body was being ripped in two.
On and on he pushed, inch by inch, until his entire organ was enclosed
within her tight, quivering vagina. She gagged and pulled off Ted's
prick and cried out. "Oh, God, take it out, take it out." They all
laughed. "Go on, fuck her," Ted cried out, and Donald even joined in,
urging Clayton to action.

"I sure will," the colored boy said, and began moving his hips,
withdrawing his rod almost all the way out, then slamming it back in
again with a force that almost drove the breath out of Suzanne's body.
She squirmed and cried out, and they all laughed. Faster and faster he
went, and it felt like with every thrust his massive shaft grew thicker
and bigger.

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

"Okay, we all come together," said Ted, grabbing Suzanne's head and
pushing his penis into her mouth again. "Suck, bitch, and jerk off
Donald. Let's all shoot into her."

Clayton's movements, together with his groaning and his hands around
her buttocks, were almost more than Suzanne could bear. Her vagina felt
numb, but deep inside her she still experienced the fantastic feelings
that came from the harsh massage of her clitoris and the rubbing of the
thick organ inside her vagina.

She sucked Ted's cock, feeling it flex and throb with each manipulation
of her mouth and her tongue. In her hand Donald's penis was rock-hard,
and he was moaning, his mouth biting on her nipples harder and harder.

Clayton suddenly cried out, and she felt his cock plunge deep into her.
He held it there, and she could feel the hot flood of his jism within
her, running down and out of her crack. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he
cried, and at that second, Ted pushed his shaft in until it jammed
against the back of her throat, and she felt him spurt and tasted the
hot salty come on her tongue. She gulped and swallowed, taking it all
while her cunt enclosed the long, thick black meat within her, spurting
its seed deep into her. Ted's penis began softening, and he pulled it
out of her mouth and eased back on his buttocks, watching.

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

"Almost," he gasped.

"Fuck her between the tits," shouted Ted, and Donald swung his legs
across Suzanne, sitting on her stomach and pushing her breasts together
around his penis just as it flexed and shot, the spurts of white liquid
shooting across her chin and cheek and dripping down her neck. He
groaned, and she heard Ted laugh. His hand came out and rubbed the come
all over her mouth and nose.

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

She almost gagged.

"Lick it off your lips, lick it!"

Almost in a dream, she put out her tongue and licked the thick salty
cream off her lips, tasted it, and then swallowed.

Clayton was still inside her, his penis feeling just as hard and thick
as it had before.

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

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

He went on moving his hips, and she felt his penis inside her, pressing
her folds of flesh aside as it cruelly penetrated her. "I'm gonna fuck
her dry," he said, laughing.

Donald climbed off and sat back, feeling his softening penis with his
hand, while Clayton continued fucking her. Ted had his penis in his
hand, playing with it.

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

"You're on, feller," was the calm reply, and the black body flexed and
the hips began pumping in and out. His lips came down around Suzanne's
breasts, licking the nipples sensuously. She felt her vagina respond.
She knew nothing turned her on more than having her breasts sucked, and
the way Clayton did it was the best ever. She twisted and turned, and
then melded her movements with his until they were rocking back and
forth on the floor, the sweat streaming off their bodies as the groins
gripped together, joined cock-to-cunt, pushing them both towards
another climax.

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

On and on, and Suzanne found herself slipping away from reality. Her
mind seemed to whirl, and as her hands went around the smooth black
skin, holding him close, dragging his mouth down to her own, she felt
consciousness fading. Just as Clayton's penis discharged into her for
the second time, she went limp in his arms. He completed his climax and
raised up, looking down at her. His eyes moved over to Ted and Donald.

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

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

"Sure she is," snapped Ted, bending over Suzanne and slapping her
cheeks. She mumbled and opened her eyes.

"See, she was jest takin' a rest," Clayton laughed. He moved away and
stood up, "You shouldn't sleep, chicky-baby. We've got more fucking for
you."

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

"I'll wake her up," said Ted, standing up, and holding his penis so
that it pointed to her face. A moment later, a stream of urine splashed
down over her, and she shuddered, screamed and scrambled away across
the floor, the loud, coarse laughter of the boys ringing in her ears.

"Get out, get out," she cried, collapsing on the floor, and sobbing
into her hands. "Haven't you done enough?"

They began collecting their clothes and getting dressed.

"No, we ain't," said Clayton. "Ted was right. You're good pussy, and I
aim to come back for some more. How 'bout you guys?"

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

"When is you receiving?" asked Clayton with exaggerated politeness.
Suzanne stared up at him, her eyes filled with loathing.

"Get out," she spat.

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

"Bye now," said Ted. "And remember, don't you try and say nothin' to no
one. Now it's three against one, and who do you think they'll believe?"

Suzanne stared across. Ted's face was scowling at her; Clayton's held a
superior look of amusement; only Donald seemed to have some semblance
of compassion for her.

And then they were gone, leaving her alone and naked on the floor, her
vagina throbbing and tender, her breasts scarred with teeth marks, and
her neck aching and her mouth swollen. She climbed shakily to her feet
and went into the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror and
sat down on the edge of the bath, so filled with self-loathing and
guilt that she hadn't the energy to cry.
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