Sid Farmer - Hot and horny weekend

George and Abby had listened quietly to the Wilson's somewhat hysterical, and yet fully convincing resolve to end their association with the Farringtons. George knew, although Bill and Laura didn't, that he never really planned to use what he knew about Bill's shady past; at least, he had never planned to use it to run Bill out of Oak Park. He had used it, and intended to go on using it, to supply his own sex life and that of his wife's with interesting and new faces.

But as George had listened that weekend, he had realized that the Wilson's just weren't going to be able to take much more – and it didn't upset him that much. As far as he was concerned, he knew he could find a lot more willing subjects of his obscene manipulations than the Wilsons, and besides, he had thought to himself, Laura Wilson is never going to really put herself out completely… not while her husband is around. She would never outgrow that puppy love of hers.

But George had known, as well, of their plans for the Wilsons at the Lessing's party that weekend, and had realized how upset Abby would be if she didn't get the chance to carry through on her own little practical joke. And so he had very deftly convinced the emotional distraught Wilsons that, rather than force him to tell Bill's boss everything, they should be willing to accept a compromise.

Of course, Laura had known nothing of the Farrington's waning interest in them as the subjects of their perverted sexual needs, and she still didn't know, as she wandered aimlessly around the crowded living room. She only knew that, when George had offered them the compromise of his promise to keep forever silent about Bill's past, in return for their full participation and cooperation in both that weekend at the beachhouse and at a party of some friends of theirs the next week, she and Bill had accepted. Of course, they had talked it over first, and had realized that George might not be intending to keep his promise; but still, they had finally decided to accept his because their continued life in Oak Park was at least worth taking the chance. What could they lose, that they had not already lost in the suffocating closeness of the cabin on the Farrington's boat?

The rest of that weekend had been sheer torture, but they had survived it. It was amazing to Laura, and to Bill too, that the Farringtons could find any pleasure in simply using the unwilling bodies of their guests in spite of their obvious distaste and reluctance… but apparently that didn't bother George and Abby. In fact, the more turned off they became by the whole proceedings, the more the Farringtons seemed to enjoy themselves.

And now, as she walked unknowingly past the attentive Jackson, who still stood immobile by the door, Laura realized that this evening was probably going to contain even more humiliating concessions on her part. But she knew she could bear them, if only because it would be the last time she would have to.

"Attention everybody, attention!"

It was the host's, Peter Lessing's voice that boomed over the crowded room, silencing the people that stood around expectantly in little groups of twos and threes.

"I think everyone's ready for the main course of the evening, what do you say?"

There was an enthusiastic murmur from the group, who were evidently well aware of what was now going to happen.

"All right then! What are we waiting for?" came a very masculine voice from one side of the crowded room, and suddenly, amid wild exclamations and giggling laughter, the whole assemblage suddenly began undressing, without preamble, or even a moment's hesitation. It was as though a nonverbal but familiarly understood cue had been given, and the response was a sudden eruption of activity.

Laura stood off to one side, completely amazed at the transformation that had come over the group. What had been a normal, even sedate cocktail party, now had suddenly become a frenzied and laughing tangle of arms and legs, of various and sundry pieces of clothing that were quickly shed and hurled around the room at anyone who happened to be standing nearby. At once, Laura realized what was going on, and what was going to happen. She didn't have to be told that this group had done the same thing many times before, and yet she wondered with fearful curiosity what her part in the monstrous game was going to be.

She didn't have long to wait before she found out. She saw George Farrington crossing to her from across the room, his powerfully built body completely naked, his huge cock swinging limply heavy against his hairy loins as he walked. She knew she couldn't afford to run, couldn't afford not to go along with whatever was going to happen, and so she waited until he got up to her. Her head swam with the liquor she'd consumed, and she wondered whether that punch had been doctored with the same kind of persuasive aphrodisiac that she'd fallen victim to so often the past two weeks.

"Well, Laura, aren't you going to get undressed?" George's question was more a command than a statement, and she began automatically to obey. She removed her clothes quickly, until she was standing in only her brief bikini panties, her smoothly round breasts left free to fall unencumbered into the cool air of the crowded room. As she undressed, she looked around for her husband, Bill, and at last spotted him on the other side of the room. With a start, Laura saw that Abby Farrington was standing in front of him, teasing his shirt on his manly chest, and letting one hand play games with the belt and zipper of his sports slacks. Bill looked up at that moment, caught his wife's gaze, and smiled bravely, as though telling her silently across that crowded room, that everything was going to be all right, and that after this one last trial, they would be free forever from the Farrington's perverted curse. Laura smiled back at him in answer, and then saw Abby looking at her with such an undisguised look of anger and hatred, that it made her laugh. Her laugh seemed to serve as a cleansing for her frightened soul, and as the young wife turned back to face her tormentor, George Farrington, for the last time, she smiled challengingly at him as well.

"Well, George, what now?" she said bravely.

George grinned into his neighbor's defiant face, and without a word, summoned Peter Lessing to his side.

"Ah, Mrs. Wilson, my dear!" Lessing said, "We have quite a surprise for you this evening."

"No doubt," Laura retorted, amazed at her own brashness and lack of fear. Perhaps it was the punch. Her head was already spinning terribly, even though she'd only had two glasses. Yes, she thought unconcernedly, they must have doctored the punch. Suddenly, Laura was aware that she was being ushered up to a small stage in one corner of the living room, which had been hidden from view before by a large curtain. She noticed that everyone in the room now was naked, over twenty-five people, and that many were already engrossed in every kind of manipulative foreplay imaginable, sprawled here and there around the room on pillows and cushions that had been brought out from somewhere. As she walked, Laura tripped over a couple, falling on the floor and bruising her shoulder. I must be drunker than I thought, she thought to herself dizzily. But maybe that would get her through the embarrassment of whatever her hosts had planned for her… at any rate, she hoped so. She didn't like the way the two naked men were hustling her toward that stage or the way many of the people in the room were turning their heads and bodies so that they could see the stage without any trouble.

And then, she was on the stage, and found herself lying on her back, staring worriedly up at the ceiling. What was it? What were they going to do to her? She closed her eyes in sudden dread, and hoped that she could survive it without complaint.

And then she heard an amazed gasp from the crowd of people surrounding her, and felt two large, ungainly hands pulling at the silkiness of her panties, forcing them down over her now trembling thighs, and exposing to the smoke-filled air her defenselessly presented loins. She hadn't either the strength now, or the will, to open her eyes. Through her now drugged brain, only one thought managed to penetrate: the hope that whatever was going to happen would happen quickly, and be over with.