Ron Taylor: First Time In The Behind

"Fuck me, oh, fuck me, baby!" Marita groaned, her voice as hypnotic as the muted buzz of the vibrator.

Nicole fucked her.

There was an incredible sense of power, of control, in the act of working the dildo in and out. She was beginning to understand, for the first time, how a man must feel shoving his cock up a woman's cunt. As she used the dildo, she was busy with her tongue on Marita's asshole, continuing the arousal she'd already begun there.

Nicole kept the dildo busy, and she kept her tongue busy, too. Marita's asshole didn't taste particularly shitty. Nicole probably wouldn't have stopped even if it had. Her tongue was prodding the little hole, and the little hole was expanding a bit more each time it got licked.

Now it was time to use her finger.

She straightened up, keeping the vibrator moving, and she began to push at Marita's ass-ring with her middle finger. Marita squealed at the feel of a finger attacking her ass, but she didn't ask Nicole to stop, and Nicole wouldn't have stopped even if she'd been asked.

The finger entered Marita's shitter. The muscles gripped her finger in a wet, sticky-almost greasy-heat. Nicole prodded a time or two, and then it seemed that the blonde's asshole took over the work. Nicole could feel her finger being drawn in and out.

"Oooohhhhh!" Marita gasped. "You're gonna make me come if you don't stop that! And if you stop, I'll rip your tits off!"

Nicole smiled. She felt very smug and self-satisfied right now. But she had one more ace up her sleeve. With a wrench of her wrist, she yanked the dildo out of Marita's cunt, then lay down on her back, beneath the blonde's uplifted crotch. Her finger came out of Marita's asshole, and she moved the dildo up to the finger-dilated hole while her tongue began to move up and down the slick wet crack of Marita's pussy.

"Oh, you dirty bitch!" Marita cried. "You're not gonna-"

Nicole put the tip of the vibrator square against the blonde's shitter and gave it a stabbing thrust. Her finger had reamed the tight ass to some extent. It was still as tight as hell, but the opening wasn't nearly as snug as it had been, and the end of the vibrator entered Marita.

The vibrator pushed its way up Marita's shit-hole while Nicole feasted on the blonde's sloppy cunt. Nicole was squeezing her own thighs together, massaging the bun of her own pussy, and she could feel heat building dramatically inside it. Marita wasn't the only one with a wet cunt.

She kept on tonguing the woman's clit and the cunt while she moved the dildo in short thrusts up Marita's asshole.

If she'd kept at it long enough, she could probably have shoved the thing so far up Marita that it came out her mouth. But Marita climaxed long before that point, and, to her own surprise, Nicole's orgasm came only a moment or two later. The power and the sex, and the scent of raw pussy sent her hurtling over the edge, though, and the two women collapsed into a sweat-soaked heap of flesh.

Marita pulled Nicole up, kissing her thirstily.

"God, that was fantastic," she said. "You've gotta give us your number!

Even if Leon can't make it, I'm gonna come back for some more of that sweet hot cunt of yours, baby! Oh, you've earned your money tonight!"

"I just try to keep the customer satisfied," Nicole said.

With the money-six hundred dollars-tucked into her stocking top, Nicole Patterson felt like a satisfied whore. She was ready for something different.

For one thing, she was a little hungry, and she remembered, from her college days, an all-night deli that served absolutely delicious pepperoni rolls. She had two with all the trimmings and, as she was driving away, she saw a lighted church. A few people were entering for midnight mass.

Nicole took the money out of her stocking top. She hurried into the church and dropped five hundred dollars into the poorbox. She kept one hundred. The car would need gas before she got home, and she wasn't carrying her credit card. She'd regained her nonprofessional status.

She was no longer a whore, just a fun fuck.

Nicole drove around a bit, with no real destination in hand. She just wasn't quite ready to go home yet. And she was still trying to decide what to do about her husband and his treachery.

Maybe it was partly her fault. Maybe she'd been a little conservative in bed. Maybe that's why he'd taken on another woman. From what she'd seen on Bill Archer's videotape, it was obvious that Becky O'Hara was not at all conservative when it came to sex.

The little red-headed slut had giggled with glee at the prospect of taking Roger's cock in her pussy, her mouth, her asshole. She'd even wrapped her tits around his cock and let him squirt off in her freckled face.

But Nicole didn't feel very conservative now, considering what she had done today. She found herself thinking about the crinkly patch of red hair around Becky's cunt. Roger appeared to enjoy nuzzling his face in it. Nicole wondered if she would find it just as tasty.

She passed a telephone booth and, on an impulse, stopped the car.

Although she knew what the result would be, she needed to be sure. She dialed Roger's hotel in New York and waited for the switchboard to ring his room. A woman answered. She had a soft voice and identified herself as Mrs. Patterson. Nicole apologized for getting the wrong number and hung up.

She was near a warehouse belonging to Schroyer Electronics. Nicole parked on the street and climbed up the loading dock. She entered the building as if she owned the place.

Actually, she did. It was one of the businesses whose controlling interest she'd inherited from her father, though she didn't take part in any of the operations.

The place was stacked high with boxed televisions, VCRs, microwaves, stereos. Schroyer had a chain of discount stores all over the state, and this was the main warehouse.

She heard music coming from a room to the side, and she went in that direction. The door was open, and she saw three guys sitting at a table, playing cards, sipping whiskey, and shooting the shit.

The men didn't notice her, which gave Nicole a moment to look them over.

Two of them were young, probably fresh out of high school-one a greaser type with slick hair, the other a sandy-blonde, both wearing jeans and sleeveless T-shirts that showed off their well-developed biceps. The third man was older, perhaps in his mid-thirties. His face was turned away, but there was something familiar about the shape of his head.

"You better have a royal flush," said the younger of the two studs, taking a bill off the stack of dollars in front of him. He put it down in the center of the table and then poured himself a drink. "If you don't, I'm going home a rich man tonight."

The other stud filled his own paper cup. He was out of the hand.

"I'm going home a horny man," he said. "Mary Lou's on the rag. There's no fuckin' justice."

Nicole cleared her throat.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the door-post, "who do I have to fuck to get a drink around here?"

They all turned, and Nicole's jaw dropped when she saw the face of the third man. It was Bill Archer, the detective who'd gotten the goods on her husband.

Archer's expression didn't change as he stared back at Nicole, though it was obvious he recognized her. He laid his cards down and he looked at her calmly.

The guy who wasn't going to fuck Mary Lou stood up.

"You could always start with me," he said, picking up the bottle and holding it out.

"Good a place as any," Nicole said, moving toward the table.

Bill Archer leaned back in his chair. He had a cigarette in one hand, a paper cup in the other. He tilted his head to one side and watched Nicole through narrowed eyes. What the bell was he doing here? she wondered. Was the snoop business so bad he had to take a warehouse job at night, just to make ends meet? But by that time, the dark young greaser with the athletic build was standing in front of her, and she reached for the bottle he held in his hand.