Aston Marlowe - Rajah

Sharon Court, who had never had or seen any other man except her own husband, paled and sucked her breath at the sight of the almost stranger's cock. She sat immobile, much of the nirvana that the drug had caused ripped from her as cold air can revive a drunk. She watched in terrified fascination as Mark's fingers skinned the thick foreskin rapidly up and down the full length of it, the hardened head bursting momentarily into view each time like a giant monster crawling from its secret lair. She was so close that she could see the glistening seminal fluid oozing forth from it. Mark's hoarse breathing made it quiver, and right then, his penis seemed to the frightened young wife as the most monstrous thing in the world. She could not imagine ever having something like that inside her. No woman could take it! It would kill her!

And then Lena reached up and grabbed Mark, and Mark lunged — and without hesitation, his gleaming rock-hard cock plunged into her moist, open vagina. He immediately began to fuck Alvaro's wife with long, hard strokes, and Sharon could clearly see his shaft sliding in and out of her friend's pink widespread cunt like a well-oiled piston, his sperm-laden balls smacking rhythmically into the moist crevice of her wide splayed buttocks below.

Sharon waited for Lena to scream in protest, or to fight back against the obscene rape of her open vagina — but none came.

Instead, her older girl friend's legs quivered, momentarily up into the air and then snaked back python-like around his waist. Her hands slid slowly down his gleaming body and come to rest on his white, hollowing buttocks. The fingers spread, whitened from pressure, then pulled him gluttonously into her, while below the softly clenching lips of her cunt flowered open in acceptance. It swallowed the whole of his plunging cock with each surging heave, and small piteous pleas of passionate supplication began to roll from her lips. They were lewd and filthy supplications, using words which Sharon had seldom heard except in whispers from the more daring girls back in college.

Sharon held her breath, more of the marijuana induced veil being lifted from her hazed, unbelieving eyes, and though she sat there as if glued, her hands over her wide open mouth in horror, her mind was now beginning to snap out of its lethargy enough for her to grasp firmly the total salaciousness of the situation. The complete alieness of the act as compared to her own sheltered life, the absolute nadir to every moral code to which the young naive wife had ever subscribed to.

Lena's buttocks were grinding ever faster now, and the groans and mewls of pleasure were becoming more desperate, and the demonic couplings were met with equal fury by Mark as he fucked harder and harder into her, driving her buttocks flat to the rug with each lust-inspired surge. The loud slap of their naked bellies against each other resounded in Sharon's fevered head like clasps of thunder. The drugged girl stayed in her seat as though hypnotized by the curling and uncurling legs as her girl friend strove in final desperation to reach her completion.

Sharon couldn't stand any more! Her heart and soul was a turmoil of revulsion and excitement, of horror and lewd interest, of unbelief and realization, of the shock of reality and the lulling of the drug. Something had to give!

Suddenly from Lena came a low, unearthly howl, and her hotly grinding buttocks quivered and jerked up tight against the hardened penis sunk deep in her cunt. Mark groaned above her and ground down hard, his thick fleshy rod throbbing its white, milky sperm deep up into her widening belly. The rich fluid filled her to overflowing and cascaded warmly out around her pink, moist vaginal lips. To Sharon's horror, she could see clearly a tiny white stream of it wetly trickling down the wide split crevice of her buttocks and onto the Oriental rug. The couple spasmed, endlessly expending their mindless orgasms as though she, a guest in the house, did not even exist!

The loud cry, the sight of another man's seed spilling so wantonly upon the carpet — the final link had been broken, and Sharon was released from her subjective bondage on the couch. No longer did the drug or the shock of seeing her friend, another man's wife, copulate openly before her with a strange man fascinate her to immobility. Everything was shattered. She leaped up and stumbled blindly toward the hall. Tears of abject humiliation rolled down her cheeks, smearing the light coat of makeup she'd applied before going to dinner. She ran up the stairs, not knowing where to go, where to hide, where to find an avenue of escape.

There was none. She was stuck in a house of sin and deviltry, a captive of the immense, silent, deadly moors with no means of crossing them at this time of night. She couldn't leave… but she couldn't stay. Not now!

Oh God, what could she do? She flung herself down the upstairs hall toward the only sanctuary she knew, the only place even remotely familiar and comforting — her guest room.

Wafto, the hunch-backed dwarf, became immediately attentive in his hiding place inside the huge antique wardrobe in Sharon Court's room when he heard the door being opened. He maneuvered his deformed body so that one eye was pressed to the small hole which had inconspicuously been bored in the left-hand door, his muscles tensed with barely repressed excitement.

The light snapped on overhead, and he could see the lithe, voluptuous blonde wife as she ran across the room and flung herself on the bed. She began weeping unabashedly, obviously upset, her lovely face twisted with emotion. Wafto smiled tightly, pressing his eye hard against the hole; he could tell by the brightness of her eyes, the flushed appearance of her cheeks, that the marijuana which she had partaken of had done its job well. And he thought he knew, too, why she was weeping; his master always became uncontrollably horny when he smoked pot, and Mark had likely taken the insatiable Lena somewhere for a satisfying fuck — somewhere not too far removed from the naive young eyes of the beautiful Sharon Court.

Yes, Wafto was sure that was why Sharon was crying. She wouldn't have expected to see her friend Lena so abandonedly spreading her legs for Marlowe, and in her semi-drugged condition she had probably fled in humiliation to her room. Good, good, thought the grinning dwarf. Everything was working out exactly as they had planned…

After a time Sharon raised herself on the bed and dried her eyes. She heaved a shuddering sigh and got tremulously to her feet. The little hunch-back watched hungrily as she began to undress slipping out of her organdy dress, removing her sheer panties and brassiere until she stood naked for a moment in the bright light overhead. Wafto sucked in his breath, small beads of perspiration breaking out on his forehead, as his watching eye feasted on the dark soft silkiness that covered the junction of her perfectly formed legs, the thin red hair-lined slit that was temptingly visible running the full-length of her pubic triangle, the alabaster contours of her hips and the white rounded spheres of her breasts with their pink little nipples turgid from her agitated mental state. His mouth watered. He could hardly wait to get his hands and mouth on those tempting buds, to twist and churn them into the rock hardness of helpless passion.

As he watched, Sharon took a thin diaphanous nightgown from her suitcase and slipped over her nakedness with the sibilant rustling of silk. Then she sat down on the bed, sighing once more. Wafto held his breath again, willing her to look at the bedside table, to see the bottle of Sherry and the glass he had placed there before entering the wardrobe to hide. Come on, my little beauty, the salivating dwarf thought. It's for you, all for you. A little potion which will set that lovely little pussy of yours twitching, as it has set so many pussies twitching in the past. A maddeningly irresistible aphrodisiac mixed with the Sherry, and all for you…