Mary Farcus - Wide open wife

Mack was facing Marge, and Lucy had the distinct impression that she was watching a contest of wills between the two. It occurred to her that Marge's sharp-tongued independence might have annoyed Mack, and he was using this confrontation as an excuse to establish his dominance. Watching his brutal face, Lucy realized she was scared, and wanted to be somewhere else. It looked like she might have to pay for the good fucking Mack had given her. Suddenly sexual freedom no longer seemed so simple and uncomplicated.

"I'll tell you what," Marge said coolly. "If you two guys blow each other first, then maybe I'll think about it."

As the meaning of her words sunk in, Mack swelled with rage.

"Why, you windy slut, I'll teach you to keep your mouth shut," he said. With a quick, cat-like stride, he leaped toward Marge, and Lucy expected him to hit her new friend. But Marge had been toying with her purse, seemingly absent-mindedly, and now she reached in and pulled out a knife. It clicked open and, with amazing swiftness, Marge flicked the needle tip up underneath Mack's chin. He froze.

"You move, you fucking ape, and I'll slit you right up the middle," Marge hissed. She flicked her eyes over toward Lucy.

"Pick up your stuff and head for the door," she ordered the stunned blonde. Lucy had just enough presence of mind left to scoop up her shoes and purse and Marge's blouse. She darted out the door and stood outside, while Marge backed slowly toward the door, facing Mack, whose face was black with hate.

"Ta-ta, boys," she said and then slammed the door after her. "Head for the road," she ordered Lucy. The two girls hurried down the drive as the front door crashed open and Mack came bellowing out onto the porch. But he didn't follow. The two women had almost reached the main road.

"Never stand and fight a man," Marge panted to Lucy. "They're too damned strong. Just knock 'em off balance a little and then run like hell!"

Lucy was too short of breath to answer. The two girls were out on the main road by then, and she suddenly realized that Marge was still naked to the waist. A car occupied by a man and a woman sped by. The driver, the man, caught sight of the half-nude girl and nearly drove off the road.

"Your blouse," Lucy said weakly.

"Oh… yeah," Marge said, and putting down her purse, methodically put on her blouse, as if she were in the privacy of her own room. That impressed Lucy more than anything Marge had done so far. She began to realize what a babe in the woods she was.

"Is it always like this?" she asked her friend.

"Yeah… I'm so hard-headed that I always seem to end up getting myself in trouble," Marge replied. Lucy was surprised to see that she was speaking sadly, and it occurred to her that Marge might not have everything just the way she liked it after all.

"How are we going to get, back home?" she asked.

"Hitchhike," Marge replied, walking to the shoulder of the road and sticking out her thumb.

"But it's dangerous," Lucy started to say, and then had to laugh at herself. "Oh, the hell with it," she said, sticking out her thumb, too. With that one simple gesture, she suddenly felt really free for the first time since she'd started her sexual escapades.

It didn't take very long for two beautiful young women to get a ride.

A beat-up-looking van was dawdling down the road and slowed as its driver saw the girls.

"There's our ride," Marge said, as the van pulled up next to them.

"Hi, fellas," she said gaily as the sliding door in the side of the van opened and she climbed inside. "How far you going?"

"Oh, just cruising around," the driver said. He was young, in his early twenties, with long blond hair and a soft drooping moustache. There were two other young men in the back of the van, both with long hair, one with a small beard. Surfers, Lucy thought.

"Well, maybe you'd let us cruise around with you for awhile," Marge said. "We've had a rough day."

"Sure, man," the driver said. "My name's Paul. That's John and Smitty in the back."

"I'm Marge, and this is Lucy."

One of the men, John, pulled the sliding door shut and the five of them were closed in the cool interior of the van. It was much nicer inside than out, the walls covered with shag carpeting and a thick, paisley covered mattress on the floor. The girls sat down on the mattress next to John and Smitty. Lucy was immediately reminded that she didn't have any panties or pantyhose on underneath her skirt, which immediately rode up high as she sat down on the mattress. To keep her balance as the van started, she had to bend her knees. A cool draft began to play over her bare loins, and she did her best to keep her knees pressed tightly together.

Marge sprawled back onto the mattress, relaxed. John was sitting cross-legged next to her and his eyes stared down to her blouse, attracted by the misty view of her bra-less tits underneath the sheer material.

"They're real," Marge said, smiling up at John.

"Oh, really?" he said, and casually reached out and cupped his hand over first one big tit, then the other. "Yeah, they're real," he continued, poker-faced.

Marge's eyes widened in surprise. She wasn't used to having others take the initiative. John's cool attracted her. "That's not all that's real," she purred up at him, wriggling her hips provocatively.

With the same cool detachment, John reached up under the brunette's skirt and fumbled around a moment. Marge's breath sucked in when he worked a fingertip under her panties and dipped it into her pussy slit. He pulled the finger back out and sniffed it curiously.

"Yeah. That's real too."

"You're too much," Marge exclaimed, and broke out laughing. "But for God's sake, put your finger back."

With an answering grin, the long-haired young surfer shoved his finger into her cunt. In a matter of moments he had her writhing, and panting on the mattress.

Smitty, who was sitting between Marge and Lucy, looked over at Lucy curiously, but Lucy was too stunned by the speed with which things were happening to do anything but stare back. So Smitty shrugged and bent over Marge, unbuttoning her blouse. Marge helped, and in a few seconds she was naked to the waist, with Smitty sucking enthusiastically on her tits.

"Wait!" she said. "Let me get this damned skirt off."

John and Smitty obligingly moved back, and Marge quickly wriggled out of her skirt and panties, then lay back invitingly. "Okay, fellows," she said cooed. "Make me howl."

Once again John's finger slid up Marge's cunt, while Smitty went back to sucking her tits. Lucy sat only a couple of feet away, staring at Marge's finger-filled cunt, remembering that the other girl hadn't even had a chance to get her panties off at Mack and Harry's house. No wonder she was horny.

"What a nice pussy," Lucy mumbled to herself, watching as John's finger brushed past Marge's dark pussy hair and pushed the thick outer cuntlips aside, gliding sensuously up and down the pink slit in the center. Lucy's clit began to heat up as she watched, still wet and sensitive from Harry's big cock.

"Let's all get naked," John said, his voice no longer cool and aloof. He was breathing hard now, and had a little trouble working his underwear down over his massively swollen cock.

While Smitty was struggling out of his clothes, knocked this way and that by the swaying van, John climbed naked in between Marge's splayed thighs and worked his cock up into her ready cunt.

"Oooohhhhhh, I like that," Marge sighed, her legs raising up to circle around the young man's slender waist. "Fuck the hell out of me!"

"Nothing I'd like better," John grinned back at her. Bracing himself, he began to fuck powerfully up into the writhing brunette's fleshy cunt, the smile slowly dying from his face, replaced by an expression of pleasure. "Jesus, you feel good inside."