Aston Marlowe - Rajah

Neal could hardly breathe. His penis throbbed with hardness and as much as he hated himself for it, as much as he knew that come tomorrow and the facing of his own, trusting wife he would be suicidal with remorse, he knew that he had to have this raven-haired bitch, this wife of his own superior. Lena was stroking his cock tenderly now, working the heavy, blood-engorged rod up and down as thin droplets of lubricating fluid seeped from the tiny opening. Neal cursed himself for his lack of control. He had been thinking of having a woman, any woman, and now his perverted wish had been fulfilled beyond his wildest imagination. Knowing he was sick, knowing this was wrong was not having the icy effect of stopping the rush to copulate in adulterous frenzy, and that made him all the more chagrined. He stared down at the wildly pumping hand of the lust-crazed woman, saw his own cock in frantic response, his mind, drugged and shocked, capitulated entirely. He was going to have to release the pressure in his balls, soon — now! — and he was going to take her, take this woman and fuck her just as she had asked. Either that or he was going to burst!

He tried to grab her in his arms, drag her down to him, but she wouldn't let him. "No," Lena said. "Not here."

"Why?" Then Neal thought he knew. "Yes, Sharon! She might enter at any moment."

"My room. Come." She rose, her hand still tightly wrapped around Neal Court's aching prick, and like her grip was that of a choke collar around his neck, he blindly followed without hesitation. He stumbled shiveringly out into the long hall, a sigh escaping him as he saw that it was empty. He hurried after her, watching her firm yet full rounded buttocks undulating provocatively before him. He groaned, all of his moral and logical senses drowned out by the overwhelming carnal desire the potion had infused him with.

She led him directly to the master bedroom, knowing that the timing would be just right. Her husband had just finished spewing his sperm into the young wife of the man whose cock she now held, just as she and Lord Marlowe had finished fucking to simultaneous orgasms, and as she had slipped out of the one door to fetch Neal Court, Marlowe was calling for the dwarf to bring in Rajah by the other door. Things should be merrily on their way by now, she gleefully thought, and opened the door.

She stood to one side of the entrance while Neal crowded in behind her, his hungry cock pressed hotly into the crevice of her buttocks. Neal looked over her shoulder, his loins throbbing like rampaging waves of a stormy surf as Lena rotated her buttocks and ground back against his penis. Unconsciously he reached around the squeezed one of her breasts, tweaking her nipple between forefinger and thumb until the woman winced in smiling pain.

He tried to peer into the dim room, lit as it was only by ruby lamps. Everything seemed to be a blur at first, and then he made out recognizable forms. There was Lord Marlowe, naked! And Wafto, with so huge a cock to the relative size of his slight body that it hung down almost below his knees in soft state — which it most certainly was not now! And, horrors! There was his boss, Neal saw. Lena's husband, Rodney. They were all standing around a satin-sheeted round bed of massive dimensions, urging on a small, muscular man wearing a fur coat. No… Neal squinted, his eyes accustoming themselves. No, it was an animal! A small ape! And the brute was on top of… was slobbering over… was making the motions of intercourse with…

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Neal Court blurted unintelligibly. "It's Sharon! My wife's being fucked by an ape!"

"Rodney," Sharon Court whimpered, "please get hard again I'm going mad inside for you. Please get hard and fuck me again, please…"

Rodney Alvaro chuckled. He had filled this beauteous young wife's cunt to the brim with his thin quick spurts of cum, he had gleefully watched the blonde girl trying not to lose a drop of the hot, lust-inciting fluid as her vaginal lips clenched his cock in a desperate effort to keep up with his ejaculating penis. And, after his prick had throbbed out the last remaining streams of warm sticky sperm, Sharon had desperately moved all the way around and took his deflating shaft in her mouth.

And now she was begging for more. He heard the call by Lord Marlowe for Wafto and Rajah, and knowing what was in store for the once innocent, now gluttonous woman on the bed, he rolled from her and stood up. "In due time you will be fucked, Mrs. Court." He laughed harshly. "Mrs. Court!" he repeated contemptuously. "Mrs. Court, my beauteous American bitch."

"Dear God, haven't I done everything you wanted? Why do you torture me so?"

"Be patient, Sharon," her husband's boss replied, grinning sardonically and once more falling into using her familiar name. "We have something extra special for you. A treat, because you have been so good. Isn't that right, Mark?"

"An understatement, my good man," was the smiling reply.

God! What now? What more could be done to me? I don't care what they do to me… my cunt is on fire! I'm going out of my mind! The lovely, drugged wife reached down between her legs and massaged her own ravaged clitoris in an effort to relieve the screaming agony swirling around deep down in her belly. I've got to be fucked! My God, why do they hold off? Please… please…!

She only dimly heard the command to Wafto, and what penetrated her ears never reached the conscious part of her mind. Instead she gazed smokily upwards at the mirrors over the bed, seeing the sheer, wanton desire reflected in her eyes from the glass, and she writhed more lasciviously, uncontrollably. She saw herself stroking her own cunt-flesh, manipulating the tiny pink erection of her clitoris. Eventually she let all of her fingers play there in the opening within the flushed lips of her contracting pussy, slowly widening the edges, and she slipped both index and middle finger in and out smoothly between the lubricated folds. Her facial muscles tightened and she entertained two more fingers and heard and saw them disappear with soft, wet, sucking sounds. I don't care! I really don't care now!

She became possessed with her own body. It was beautiful and she knew that she was flushed and straining for a climax. She groaned in frustration as her fingers thrust deeper and harder, but they were not enough. Desperately, she realized that they wouldn't bring her to orgasm this time, that more was needed, yet her hand beat on with insane staccato against the sheets.

And then suddenly the slight gray head of Lord Marlowe bent over her, blotting out her own image in the mirror above.

"Are you ready, my love?" he grinned satanically at her.

"Oh, yes… yes," Sharon moaned. "You're going to fuck me. Good…"

"No, not I," Marlowe said gleefully. "Rajah!"

Sharon suddenly came back to reality as she heard the name. She looked at the foot of the bed then, to where the naked dwarf stood snickering, holding the end of a golden chain. And at the other end, fastened by a throat band, was the excited, but grotesque form of the ape she had seen before! Sharon felt her stomach completely turn over and a deep, piercing wail escaped from her throat. The grinning monster was the most horrifying sight she had ever witnessed, its evil black eyes darting at her as though searching for something to fasten its great, leathery paws on and shred. She jerked the back of her masturbating hand to her mouth.

The massive beast growled, annoyed by her sudden action and shrill scream, and she instinctively stifled another cry for fear of taunting him further. She froze… her thigh still spread not daring to move lest it attack her. The monster beast growled menacingly at her again, his great, simian head just above her defenseless loins.

Sharon tried to slowly wriggle away then, the beady, lustful gaze of the brute frightening her. "Don't let it touch me! Don't let that animal touch me!" she whimpered.