Driven To Depravity by Simon Jillson

Chapter 1

Judy Penncroft lay on her back, savoring the soft, silent morning. The
weight of Mark, her husband, pressed the double bed mattress down
beside her, rolling her slightly towards him. She thought of that
pressure and warmth being missing, of the bed being empty, and winced
at the gut-twisting stab of pain this thought brought.

Resolutely, she forced her mind away from the dread possibility that
was rapidly becoming a certainty. Instead she told herself to be glad
that Mark was sleeping quietly for a change. Sometimes, more and more
rarely, there was the perfect combination of circumstances needed to
give him total peace. Either physical or mental agony almost always
kept him twisting and turning restlessly in a sweaty tangle of sheets.
Or, what was even worse, he would lie there rigid, his muscles knotted
and straining as he wrestled silently with his torment.

As Judy slipped silently out of bed, twinges of pain reminded her of
one of the reasons for Mark's tranquil sleep. The bruised ache in her
shoulders was mute evidence of the power of his grasp on her the night
before. In her crotch, on the insides of her thighs and her pubic hair,
was a dry, tugging, crusty feeling.

In the shower, Judy felt the mild bruises, the stiffness, the dried
semen all dissolving away. It was a sad feeling. Flinching away from
that train of thought, she recalled how it had all begun.

* * *

As she passed Mark's chair with the last coffee cup, his arm snaked
out, grasped her around the waist and hauled her down on his lap,
squealing and giggling. The cup and saucer went flying and bouncing
across the floor in a clattering testimony to their durability.

"Mark!" Judy protested.

With a growl of mock ferocity, Mark gripped the sides of her pretty
face, twisting her head, his fingers tugging through her short black
hair. His lips met hers in a savage, primitive kiss. His tongue drove
between her lips, wedging her teeth open.

Even as she felt her passion boiling upward, Judy pushed defensively
against her husband. Her hand slipped down his arm and touched the
bandages and the hard plastic tubes jutting from his flesh. She jerked
her hand away as if she had been burned.

She felt Mark's grip on her change, felt his tongue retreat from her
mouth, felt his muscles go rigid. Desperately, before he could escape,
Judy forced her tongue to follow his, to drive into his strong mouth.
Twisting her torso, she ground her small, firm breasts against his hard
chest. Her petite body writhed in his lap in a primitive dance of
desire as she rekindled his faded passions.

The quivering tautness of his muscles changed slowly into the soft but
more demanding grasp of sexual need, and Judy's desperation relaxed and
became genuine lust. With her arms engulfing his head and neck, she
snuggled herself deeper in his arms as their mouths worked and mingled
in a sucking, devouring kiss. His hand slid from her back around her
side, stroking the sweeping curve of her rib cage, then cupping and
molding to one of her gentle breasts.

Heat built in Judy, sweeping through her. She responded to the warm
grasp on her breast by pushing against it, arching her spine and
twisting. Her bare legs twined sensuously as the crotch of her shorts
bunched up against her pussy. Under her firm bottom she could feel the
sturdy lump of Mark's cock hardening and thrusting at her eagerly.

Releasing her breast, Mark hooked his arm under her legs. With an easy
heave, he lifted her and stood up, spinning her giddily as he headed
for the bedroom. As always, the display of masculine power thrilled
Judy. She clung to Mark's sturdy neck, her head on his shoulder as he
carried her down the short hall to their bedroom.

Mark slammed the door behind him with an easy kick of one foot, carried
her to the bed, and dropped her from three feet up. Breathless from the
suddenness of it all, Judy bounced wildly once, then lay still. She was
boiling inside, burning up with sexual need. But all she could do was
lie there on her back, waiting for him, her arms out to her sides, one
leg bent gracefully.

As she lay there, she studied Mark as he stripped off his clothes.
Resolutely, carefully, she refused to look at the plastic shunts set
deeply in the veins of his left arm. Instead she focused her eyes on
the powerful flex of the muscles in his chest, the powerful column of
his neck, the hot avid interest in his dark brown eyes. She ignored the
fact that his torso had lost much of its strength and firmness, that
the muscles were slowly and inevitably losing their tone under the
ceaseless assault of the disease.

Fortunately, his cock had lost none of its impatient, powerful thrust.
Judy's jaw knotted at the sight of his sturdy phallus. It swayed
heavily, the base buried in a thick, curling mat of pubic hair. The
purple head was swollen with need, and the column supporting it pulsed
and swelled visibly.

The sight of her husband's cock, so ready to penetrate her, made Judy
lick her lips in excitement. She wanted to move, to get her body
stripped and exposed and ready for him, but her muscles were only
capable of quivering, so great was her need. Still lying on her back,
all she could do was put all her energy into the desperate pleading in
her eyes.

She whimpered softly with ecstasy as her nude lover bent over her, his
strong experienced fingers opening the buttons of her blouse with deft
skill. Slowly, worshipfully, he unbuttoned her blouse from top to
bottom, exposing a central stripe of her trim torso. Then he lifted her
with one hand on the back of her neck and stripped away her blouse as
easily as if he were undressing a baby. Then he let her gently back
down on the bed.

His eyes swept from her face, with its sprinkling of freckles across
nose and cheeks, down to the pale mounds of her breasts. Her nipples,
small and pink, jutted up sharply, demandingly. The muscles in her flat
stomach rippled and shivered eagerly.

There was no shaking or trembling in Mark's hands as he reached for the
snap, and fly front, of her shorts. She felt her pants loosen, felt
cool air touch her bare skin. When his hands gripped her shorts, she
lifted her hips clear of the bed.

Mark paused. His heart was hammering as he studied Judy's nearly nude
body. Her skin was golden tan where the sun had touched her, pale white
where it hadn't. The tops of her breasts were sprinkled with a delicate
pattern of freckles that made the paleness of her unexposed flesh seem
even whiter. The white raciness of her bikini panties glowed against
the even tan of her flat tummy and gracefully slender thighs. Through
the flimsy white fabric Mark could see the dark, exciting shadow of her
pubic triangle. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers into the elastic
of her panties.

Judy lifted her hips again, and felt the elastic of her underpants cut
into the firm flesh of her ass. She felt her panties sliding downward,
felt cool air caress her more and more intimately. Then Mark was
whipping the panties down and off her legs and she was kicking her feet
free of them.

She was naked. She posed - arched her back gently, sucked her stomach
in. One leg was bent, the other straight, doing nothing to conceal her
sex.

"Dear God!" Mark whispered as he lowered himself onto her. His hands
gripped her shoulders with desperate urgent, bruising need.

Judy felt his weight come down on her and let the wind blast from her
lungs with relief and satisfaction. Twisting her head so her mouth met
his, she clutched at him with the same desperation with which he was
holding her. Bare skin slid against bare skin with a hot, satiny
softness that was broken and emphasized by the scratch of harsh body
hair.

Judy rolled her hips toward Mark's. Spreading her legs, she clasped one
of his strong hairy thighs between hers, pressing the hot nest of her
pussy against his hard muscle. She felt the hot shaft of his erect
prick pressing against her soft flesh. Slipping one slender hand
between them, she curled her fingers around the rock-hard, engorged
cylinder of his cock. She squeezed it to reassure herself of its
reality, its power, and its hardness.

Mark's hand slid down Judy's side and she rolled back on her back. She
let her legs slide open to expose the heart of her sex. His hand
scraped over the tender expanse of her stomach, pressed the curls of
her pubic bush flat and entered the moist folds of her pussy. One big
finger slid into her hot, oozing nest, probed into the salivating hole
of her vagina.

Mark was being torn apart. Judy's body, so small and graceful and
young, seemed to beg to be treated roughly. But, afraid of his own
strength, he fought to temper his caresses with tenderness. But he knew
that in the end, their animal instincts would have them both clawing at
each other. Her small frame and lithe, gymnastics-trained muscles could
almost match his sturdy body and powerful muscles thrust for thrust.

Hooking his finger in her hot, wet, slick vagina, he pulled upward
against her pubic arch, crushing her clitoris with his palm. He felt
her fingers tighten convulsively around his prick and milk the hard
cylinder with a steely almost masculine strength acquired on the uneven
parallel bars.

Judy rolled her head from side to side as wave after wave of pleasure
washed through her. The hot bar of Mark's cock in her hand was ready
and eager. She licked lips that were suddenly, perversely, hot and dry
- although her mouth was watering with a primitive appetite.
Deliberately, she remained on her back, battling the urge to turn on
Mark and engulf his body with hers. She loved tormenting herself, loved
the feel of a finger hooked in her pussy, loved the hard pressure of
his body alongside hers, loved the touch of cool air on the inflamed
tips of her breasts.

Her well-rounded hips began to roll and twist with her steadily
increasing need. She scrubbed the wiry bush of her pussy against his
invading hand. The muscles on the insides of her thighs were quivering.
Her breathing was ragged and uneven as her rib cage and diaphragm lost
coordination and began battling each other.

The finger hooked deep in her slick channel was too little to do more
than inflame her. The muscles of her vagina clenched and squeezed but
Mark's probe was too slender to grip tightly. With a soft whimper of
need, Judy tugged on Mark's monster erection, trying to pull it in the
direction of her ravenously hungry pussy. Her slender body was spread
wide, was dying to have his full weight grinding it down into the
mattress.

Mark slid his body over hers and Judy twisted her head. Her mouth was
seeking his, was sucking hungrily. As his bulk covered her, she reamed
her tongue hungrily around in his mouth. He pulled his hand from her
crotch and clutched her. He was smearing her pale skin with her own
secretions as his strong fingers dug into her ribs. Where once she had
been ticklish as a child, now, as a woman, a light touch sent waves of
lust flaming through her writhing, squirming body.

Ignoring the crushing weight that ground her wrist into her pubic area,
Judy guided the head of Mark's cock to the hot, dripping funnel of her
sex. Only after she had nestled the big, round knob of his phallus at
the entrance to her did she pull her hand out from between them. Her
fingers were sticky and slippery with Mark's slimy secretions. She
smeared his back with his fluids as she hugged him to her.

When Mark thrust the demanding, hot, hard bulk of his cock into her the
air gusted from Judy's lungs. It felt so good to have a huge mass
filling her pussy. She moved, impatient to have the entire bulk in her
at once. Mark was working his organ into her socket slowly,
tantalizingly, gradually stretching her tight clinging velvety walls
with his engorged prick.

He loved the feel of her body engulfing his shaft. Her vagina was tight
and soft, velvety and slick and hot. She felt small and vulnerable
under him. Her skin was satiny smooth against his. Her clawing at his
back was urging him on. As more and more of his cock felt the hot
clinging embrace of her vagina, his lust soared higher and higher and
higher.

When his cock was jammed completely into her, Mark paused. Pushing up
off of her, he looked down at her. Her nipples were hard and sharp. His
eyes traveled down to where his groin met hers, where his pubic hair
tangled and mingled with hers. He drew his cock out of her, watched it
slide into view. It was shining and wet. He thrust back into her, deep
into her, watching his cock as it slowly vanished, a monstrous,
spitting lance thrusting deep into her.

"Oh, Mark," Judy sighed. "Oh, fuck me, Mark, fuck me. Hard."

Mark drew back and rammed at her, hard, and Judy's lust soared as the
monster phallus slammed against the end of her vagina. Her clit cracked
in a haze of pleasure as his pubic arch smashed it.

When he lowered his weight on her she hugged him desperately, hungrily.
Her hips surged and heaved in opposition to his every thrust,
increasing the force and speed with which his towering phallus entered
her hungry body. Bucking wildly under him, using the rebounding springs
of the bed to increase the violence of their collisions, she dug her
fingers into his powerful muscles, thrusting aside the sour memory of
how much more powerful those muscles had been before disease had
ravaged his kidneys.

Had he wanted to, Mark could have wrapped his arms around Judy's
slender body and squeezed her ribs until they cracked. Instead, he
hooked his arms under her shoulders, and gripped the sides of her head
in his still powerful hands. His teeth clashed with hers as he tried to
devour her. He rutted his cock into her with driving, pounding heaves.

He ignored the exhaustion that was already eating away at him.
Impatient, desperate to raise her to her peak before his strength gave
out, he rammed at her quickly, sharply. His own climax was drawing
close, a hot, itching ball of fire that would erupt from his prick in
blazing pulses. Every pumping drive of his hips lifted him one notch
closer to the fiery convulsion of completion. The nerves of his cock
became more and more sensitive, more and more inflamed as he pistoned
it in the velvety, gripping well.

Judy's hips were twisting and jerking mindlessly. Her pelvis rocked,
twisted, wringing her clit between his pubic bone and hers.

"Aww," she gasped. "Awwww, I'm cumming. Awww, let me have it. Have it.
Have it. Aww, aaww, aw-aw-aw-aw-awwww."

Judy's slender body arched in a muscle-straining, joint-popping heave
as her orgasm roared through her in a tidal wave of fiery pleasure.

Mark rammed deep into her, thrusting hard, trying to bore his cock
completely into her.

Judy felt his cock pulsing deep inside her. Hot jolts of semen
spattered the end of her vagina as his cock spewed forth its copious
load. As her burning pleasure slowly faded to a delicious, aching
memory, Judy milked his prick with her vagina. She clung to him,
happily engulfed in his strong, masculine aroma.

The rigidity in his muscles departed abruptly. He was panting with
exhaustion as he lay on top of her. He was completely limp. Judy
cuddled his wasted body tenderly, fighting back her tears of fear and
sorrow. At one time a session such as this would have been only a
prelude to an insane night of lovemaking. At one time, both of them
would have considered it a "quickie". But now it was an ordeal, as
exhausting as it was fulfilling, and always left Mark bone weary and
panting, burned out with exhaustion.

Judy held onto her lover desperately. She felt him start to roll off
her and tightened her grip on him. He didn't understand, he had never
understood, just how good it felt to have his full weight on her. He
had always been afraid he was too heavy for her. No matter how often
she told him, he couldn't believe she loved the desperate effort it
took just to breathe when he was crushing her. And now, with her very
life with him threatened, her determination to hold onto him, to keep
his body on top of hers, to keep his cock in her vagina, was even
greater.

She tightened her arms around him in an iron grip. She hooked her legs
around his and clung to him desperately.

* * *

Judy blinked against the glare of the bright sunlight, then put on her
dark glasses. She tried not to look at the unkempt lawn with its shaggy
tussocks of grass and bobbing heads of dandelions going to seed. When
it literally came down to a matter of life and death, a well-tended
lawn was unimportant.

Her short skirt whipped around her bare thighs as she went briskly down
the walk. She focused her mind entirely on the problem ahead of her.
Her life had been reduced to hard-core basics. Everything she did, and
everything Mark did, was aimed at one goal - keeping him alive for
another day, or week, or month, or, God willing, possibly a year or
more.

One by one their avenues of escape had been cut off. It was almost as
if some evil entity were thwarting them. When the disease had first
attacked Mark's kidneys, there had been the possibility that the damage
could be stopped before it went too far. When that hadn't happened, the
doctors had mentioned the possibility that perhaps the damage wouldn't
be permanent, that some fragments of those vital organs would
regenerate and resume filtering the poisons out of his bloodstream.
That hope had proved as false as the first. Mark's kidneys were gone,
destroyed, totally incapable of performing their task.

For a time there had been the artificial kidney at the hospital. Hooked
up to a stainless steel tank the size of a washing machine, Mark could
survive. And his fate had been placed in the hands of The Committee.
The cost of an artificial kidney meant that there could never be enough
to serve all the patients who needed one. Some would live and some
would die, and The Committee sat in judgment, playing God, deciding who
was to receive the life-giving treatments and who wasn't.

In the end the bitter decision was that Mark was to be taken off. No
reasons were given. Reasons were never given. Even the names of the
people serving on The Committee were kept secret to protect them from
pleading or harassment or bribery by desperate patients and families.

Since Mark and Judy couldn't afford a kidney machine, they had only one
faint hope left. It was one of the factors considered by The Committee.
The higher the possibility of a transplant being made, the more likely
the patient was to get time on the kidney machine. But in Mark's case,
the possibility of an acceptable transplant becoming available was
minuscule. He possessed one of the rarest blood types, and had no
living blood relatives. There seemed almost no chance that tissues
could be matched closely enough to prevent rejection of a foreign
organ.

It meant, for the rest of his life, being a slave to a machine that
could filter his blood. And the dialysis unit at the hospital was
available to him only a few more times, would give him only a few
precious weeks of life.

Before then, they had to find some other solution. The only one left
was a home dialysis unit, a machine like the hospital's, but of their
own.

That was their final hope, and Judy was determined not to let it slip
from their grasp. Somewhere, somehow, some way she had to come up with
the money to buy the artificial kidney. Time was getting short. Mark
had lost his job because of his increasing absences. It was all up to
her.

Squaring her shoulders, she arranged a pillow on the back of the seat
so she could reach the pedals, and slid behind the wheel of the shabby
old car, ignoring the sharp point of the spring protruding from the
frayed upholstery. In front of her, the needle of the speedometer stood
stubbornly between the 30 and the 40. The bright sunlight seemed to be
swallowed up by the dulled, rust-mottled hood.

With no skills and no training, Judy had been forced to struggle from
one job to another. When it had become obvious that she was going to be
the sole support for them, and the only possible source of money for
the kidney machine, she had looked for a job where there was a
possibility of earning a large amount of money rapidly. By working as a
go-go dancer in the evenings, and going to classes during the day, she
had managed to get a Real Estate Agent's license. A few small sales had
freed her from her distasteful evening job - just in time. Since
business was bad, the owner of the night spot had been threatening to
go topless and bottomless and have his dancers wait on tables that way.

It wasn't that Judy was ashamed of her body. Quite the opposite. She
had always been proud of her petite figure. Barely five feet tall and
never having gone over a hundred pounds, she was neat and trim, almost
childish in shape. Gymnastics had hardened her and molded her into a
series of trim, graceful curves, and sexual maturity had rounded her
hips and filled out her breasts to graceful, feminine mounds. Judy had
known that the bar was being dragged down into a seamy, sleazy twilight
area between the legal and the illegal. Sooner or later the "table
tending" was certain to have degenerated to "entertaining" the
customers, first witn friendly conversation while their horny glances
feasted on her, then physical contact, a reaching patting hand that
wasn't to be discouraged. Eventually, it would have wound up in one of
the back rooms.

Judy had quit as soon as she could.

But since those early successes, the real estate business had
deteriorated. As the end of Mark's time on the kidney machine drew
closer and closer, the listings of houses to be sold had fallen off.
Just living had cut deeper and deeper into the painfully small,
desperately accumulated savings.

Judy finally managed to get the car started. The inside fittings - door
handles and window cranks, rear view mirror, everything - rattled.
Carefully, she moved the shift lever to drive and eased the accelerator
down. The decrepit automatic transmission lurched quickly through its
repertoire until it reached high. As she pulled away from the curb,
Judy could see the thick fog of oil smoke hanging in the air behind
her.

So, Judy thought, she was now down to one last desperate gamble to keep
Mark alive. She knew of a house, a mansion, really an estate, that
might, just might, be going up for sale. If she succeeded in getting
the owner to list it with her, she had a possible buyer for it.

She needed to get the listing, and make the sale. If she could pull it
off, the commission would be enough to get a kidney machine. Nothing
else mattered but the life-giving machine.

Hot gusts of air puffed through the hole in the rusted fire wall
separating Judy from the engine and swirled up under her short skirt,
bringing with it heat and the stink of burning oil. The hot blasts
warmed the insides of her bare thighs, touched the crotch of her
panties. As she drove toward the home of her potential client, she was
desperate. The potential buyer was losing faith in her, threatening to
go to some other agent to find the kind of house he wanted. Judy knew
this estate wasn't exactly what the buyer wanted, but was desperately
hoping she could convince him. But first she had to get the owner to
decide to sell, and to decide to give her the listing.

Chapter 2

In front of the impressive door of the house, Judy squared her
shoulders, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell. She nibbled
nervously on her lower lip as she waited. The facade of the house was
blank and uninformative - not formidable or frightening, just
unhelpful. The windows were like mirrors - reflecting images of the
immaculate lawns and shrubs.

The house was modern - long and low, all on one floor. The color was a
spotless white. The entrance where Judy waited was set exactly in the
center of the front of the house. The door was a huge slab of wood,
four feet wide. The fixtures were brass - simple, well-polished, and
expensive.

The wait for her ring to be answered increased Judy's nervousness. She
wished she was certain of the time. Her watch had quit working and she
couldn't afford to have it fixed.

Reluctantly, she pressed the rectangular ivory button a second time.

There was a sound and Judy fought the urge to step back another pace.
Determinedly, she held her ground as the door swung open.

"Good morning, Mrs. Penncroft."

Judy took in the man's robe, his dark hair plastered flat on his head
with water. Had he just been in the shower? "I'm sorry," she stuttered,
"I thought you said . . ."

"I did," he assured her calmly, his voice, a baritone, giving the
impression of restrained power. "Please, come in, Mrs. Penncroft."

"If it's inconvenient, Mr. Shein, I could come back later?" Judy
suggested timidly, mentally berating herself for her shyness, and for
getting off to such a bad beginning.

"Now is convenient," he said decisively. "Come in. I was just enjoying
my morning workout. We can talk when I finish it."

"Is-Is Mrs. Shein here?" Judy asked. She followed the man reluctantly,
having the feeling that the entire visit was getting off to a
disastrous start. She had never been comfortable with Steven Shein. In
spite of his physical size, only about five foot six, something about
him was intimidating. He had a raw power about him that had always made
her nervous.

"My wife is out for the day," he answered, leading the way to the glass
doors that opened out on the pool and the deck.

Adding to Judy's discomfort was the sight of Mr. Shein's bare calves
below the knee-length robe. Thick curling black hair was plastered
against his well-tanned skin. His powerful muscles flexed with every
step.

"Maybe I should come back some other time?" Judy ventured again.

Mr. Shein slid the glass door open, stood aside, and motioned Judy
through. "Might as well talk with me right now," he replied. "Paula
will go along with any decision I make."

Judy blinked against the glare and tumbled to get her dark glasses out.
The house, built in the shape of a horseshoe, perched on a steep
hillside. The open end hung out over a void.

"Help yourself to some coffee," Mr. Shein suggested. "I have only a few
more laps to go." He waved her toward a coffeepot on a table off to one
side.

"Uh, thank you." Judy hoped having coffee would give her an opportunity
to regain her composure. The fine bone china cup clinked softly on the
saucer from the shaking of her hand. A loud splash from the pool almost
made her drop it. She carefully focused her attention on adding sugar
and cream, then turned toward the sound of Mr. Shein sprinting the
length of the pool.

Coffee scalded her thumb as the cup lurched, spilling the hot liquid.
Judy wrenched her eyes away from the swimmer, trying not to stare. Then
she couldn't help it, and looked again.

He was naked. His discarded robe lay on a lounge near the pool. His
buttocks, hard and muscled, rolled slightly with every powerful arm
pull, flexed strongly with every kick. Those hard globes of muscle were
only slightly less tan than the strong shoulders and back. It was
obvious he often "worked out" in the nude.

Judy's hand was shaking, making the cup rattle loudly. She looked
around for some escape, and found none. She wanted to leave, but didn't
dare. Her potential customer had made it clear he wanted her to stay.
If she left now she would lose all chance for a sale - and the kidney
machine.

Still shaking, she perched nervously on the edge of the lounge. She
tried not to stare at the naked man as he swam but failed. Her eyes
tracked him steadily from one end of the pool to the other. His quick,
efficient racing turns at the end of each lap sent a glittering shower
of water high in the air and displayed a quick flash of trim ass.

Somehow sensing that he was almost finished, Judy set her cup down and
picked up his robe. She wanted to head him off, to keep him from
getting out of the pool and walking straight toward her to get it.

He touched the end of the pool and stood up smoothly. The edge of the
pool cut just above his groin - all Judy could see was his bare
muscular torso. Desperately, she advanced on him, the robe extended
ahead of herself like a shield.

Mr. Shein placed his palms on the edge of the pool. Just before she got
to him, he vaulted smoothly out. A wave of cool water sloshed across
the deck, soaking Judy's feet, making her dance awkwardly and
ineffectively in an attempt to keep her sandals dry.

"Thanks, but I'm not done yet," he informed her, brushing the robe
aside. Picking up a towel, he quickly dried his face. He seemed
oblivious of his nudity.

Judy wasn't. She tried to keep from looking at the man, but couldn't.
He was solid muscle. Thick black hair coated his body. His relaxed cock
was short and stubby. Even limp it had an impressive diameter. Its skin
was dark, its head a dusky purple.

Judy wrenched her eyes away, hoping he hadn't noticed her staring.
Clutching the robe tightly in both hands, she went back to the lounge
where she had left her coffee. Picking up the cup and saucer she turned
her back.

"Now - what was it - exactly - that you - wanted?" Mr. Shein huffed
between exercises.

"I wanted to ask you to list your house with me," Judy stuttered.

"Sorry - I can't - hear you," he responded.

Judy bit her lip and turned around. Her eyes focused immediately on his
cock where it dangled below him as he did push-ups. The muscles in his
arms, back and shoulders flexed powerfully as he dipped toward the
deck, then rose smoothly. She repeated what she had said about getting
the listing. She was feeling hot inside, and her legs were suddenly
very shaky.

Judy's discomfort was anything but eased when her client stopped
exercising and turned to sit facing her, his legs spread and his arms
hooked around his knees. Her gaze went straight up between his legs to
where his cock and balls nestled between his thick, hairy thighs.

"You think that I am interested in selling this house?" Mr. Shein
asked.

Judy knew he had seen where she was looking and flushed. "You are,
aren't you? You indicated the other day that you were."

"That I might be," he corrected, lying flat on his back on the deck and
putting his hands behind his head, "if the price is right."

"But . . ."

"Would you hold my feet?" he asked, interrupting her.

"I'd rather . . ."

"I still have to do my sit-ups," he informed her. "Just hold my feet."

Judy took a tight grip on herself. She had to have this listing! All
the man had asked was for her to help him do his exercises. If being
nude in front of her didn't bother him, why should it bother her? She
knelt on the deck, the hard concrete bruising and scraping her knees.
Hesitantly, she leaned forward and gripped the man's ankles. His skin
felt warm. Her eyes focused on his bare groin. His cock was rolled
slightly to one side over the lumps of his balls. Droplets of water
still gleamed in the thick, black bush of pubic hair.

"If the price is right," Mr. Shein repeated as he began his sit-ups.
"Paula and I bought this place two years ago for a half a million."

"I know," Judy responded, trying to force her eyes away from his penis,
and not succeeding. She felt a trickle of sweat start down from the
base of her throat toward the valley between her breasts. She was
suddenly conscious of her lack of a bra and her nipples stiffened.

"How much do you think it is worth now?" the man asked, his head
sweeping up, then down as he forced it to touch his knees.

It was a jolt when Judy realized he could look straight down the
neckline of her blouse and see her gently swaying, naked breasts.

"W - well over a million," she muttered. Her eyes were still glued to
Steven Shein's cock. It seemed to be swelling and expanding.

"Minimum a million and a half," he informed her.

Judy tried to figure some way to cut off his view of her breasts. She
tried hunching her shoulders and bringing her arms close together, then
realised that only opened the neckline of her blouse further while
pressing her breasts inward, deepening the hollow between them.

"I can get it for you," she assured him, trying to keep her mind on
business. His cock was getting harder and larger, sliding sideways as
it stiffened and lifted. Judy gulped.

"Not enough," Shein panted.

"What?" Judy asked. The man's cock was becoming monstrous. It lay
across one thigh now, a massive lump of gristle, pulsing and still
expanding.

"Any broker in town can get me a million and a half," Shein countered.

Judy felt his breath on her face as he swept past her. She wanted to
use one hand or arm to conceal her breasts, but her hands weren't big
enough to use just one of them to hold his ankles.

"I might - maybe two million," Judy stammered.

It was a relief when he stopped doing sit-ups and sat, leaning back on
his arms. Judy released his ankles and sat back gratefully. Her blouse
brushed the tips of her breasts, making the excited nipples burn. She
tore her eyes off Shein's powerful, pulsing erection and tried to meet
his bold gaze.

"Better," he conceded, "if you're telling the truth. But I imagine
there are other agents that could match that."

Judy was getting frustrated. She was promising him four times what he
had paid for the house. She thought she might be able to get it from
her potential customer. She knew no other agent in town would risk
sticking his neck out with an offer like that. She didn't dare suggest
a higher figure. "Mr. Shein, I . . ."

"Let's go swimming," he said abruptly, getting easily to his feet.

Judy struggled upward awkwardly. "I don't have a suit," she pointed
out.

"Neither do I," Shein said matter-of-factly. He reached for the front
of her blouse.

"Mr. Shein, please," Judy protested, backing away.

"You'd be surprised how a nice swim will put a different complexion on
things," he insisted, reaching for her buttons.

"Mr. Shein!" Judy exclaimed, gripping his wrists.

His eyes met hers. There suddenly was an unrelenting hardness in his
gaze. "Mrs. Penncroft?"

Judy knew exactly what he was saying with just those two words. Right
here, and right now, she could lose the listing before she even had it.
Did he know how desperately she needed the money?

"All - all right," she agreed reluctantly, easing her grip on his
powerful wrists.

"I thought you'd see things my way," he said confidently. His strong
fingers deftly freed her buttons.

Judy hung her head in shame and let him strip her blouse off her. She
was agonizingly conscious of her small, firm breasts and their sharp
tips. The man's all-over tan made her painfully aware of the paleness
of her breasts.

He unfastened her skirt, eased it over the swell of her hips and
dropped it around her ankles. The top edge of her panties cut low on
the gentle swell of her belly. They were nearly transparent, showing
the dark mat of her pubic triangle. Her faint hope he would leave her
with at least that shred of modesty vanished when he hooked his thumbs
under the elastic. He hauled the tiny panties down. As he knelt in
front of her there was no hint of subservience in the pose.
Efficiently, he stripped her last covering down to her ankles, then
held them and her skirt with one hand while he lifted her feet free of
the tangle. Then her sandals were unbuckled and he was standing in
front of her.

Judy cupped a hand demurely over her sex, crossed an arm across her
breasts. She let her head hang, conscious of the air touching her
boldly all over, even more conscious of the hot eyes raking over her
bare body. "Mr. Shein, I . . . Judy started, ready to plead for the
listing.

His hand closed around the wrist at her crotch, dragging that feeble
cover away from her dark shy triangle. "A swim," he insisted, pulling
her toward the water.

Judy tottered after him to the edge of the pool. His grip on her arm
was tight and hard as steel. Out of the corner of her eye she could see
the bobbing bludgeon of his aroused, monster cock.

Without releasing her, he walked directly off the edge of the pool,
pulling her in with him. The water blasted over Judy, splashing her
face as her feet jarred hard against the bottom of the pool. The sudden
chill after the merciless hot glare of the sun made her suck in a gasp
of air. The icy liquid cut deep into her uncovered pussy, splattered
her chest and back. A tug on her wrist as Steven Shein leaned forward
dragged Judy with him. Then he released her. Gamely, Judy struck out
alongside him, figuring that was what he wanted. The cool water swept
over her whole body. Tickling cool currents brushed intimately over her
naked skin. As she kicked, bold eddies explored her sex and her ass.

As they swam from one end of the pool to the other, Judy was conscious
of the power of the man beside her. From time to time his bare skin
would brush hers, an arm, hip, or leg that would feel scalding hot in
comparison with the cool pool.

Her hand touched the end of the pool and Judy stopped swimming, and let
her legs swing under her. As Steven Shein floated languidly beside her,
she hooked her elbows over the edge of the pool, pressed her front
defensively against the cool, smooth concrete. She twisted her head at
the touch of a hand on the back of her neck, teasing her short black
hair. Every swaying kick of her feet sent a fresh wave of cool water
into the heart of her sex, reminding her of her nudity. Her nipples
felt like rocks trapped against the side of the pool.

"You're an accomplished swimmer, Mrs. Penncroft," he observed.

The use of her married name reminded Judy of Mark, their marriage, all
that they had, all that they meant to each other. She felt a surge of
horror at what was happening, what she was doing. It also reminded her
of why she was here, how badly she needed the money. She stopped trying
to wriggle away from his caress.

"You were an Olympic gymnast, I believe?" he noted.

"Just an alternate."

"I admire people who take the time to keep their bodies in good
condition," he went on. "Can you do the backstroke?"

"Mr. Shein, I . . ."

"Backstroke," he insisted. "A race. I'll give you a head start. If you
win, you get the listing. If I win . . . well, we'll see about the
listing."

"Mr. Shein!" Judy protested.

"On your mark," he commanded.

"But . . ."

"Get set," he continued relentlessly. He had taken his hand from the
back of her neck and was assuming a starting position - legs folded,
feet firmly against the wall; hands gripping the gutter. His arms
bunched as he coiled himself for the start.

Desperately, Judy whipped into a tight ball of muscle, somehow knowing
he meant exactly what he said. "Go." Judy's body uncoiled as she let go
of the gutter, arched her spine backward and pushed off from the wall.
Water sheeted over her face as she took her first powerful stroke, then
her vision cleared and she flailed her way toward the shallow end.

She saw the spray of Steven Shein's start and pulled still harder. She
could see the whipping arch of his hands. Each stroke sent a glittering
arching spray of water high in the air. She kicked harder, trying to
put more whip into the motion of her feet, trying to remember
instructions received years ago from her swimming coach.

God, the man was fast! His head was already even with her waist, his
arms flinging water in her face at every stroke. Judy flailed
desperately, cursing that he had chosen the backstroke - always her
worst stroke.

Then he was even with her and Judy could see his face. He was watching
her insolently. He wasn't even having to work hard to stay even with
her!

Judy suddenly noticed the way her taut breasts were rolling and bobbing
on the surface, in full view. She lost her rhythm and floundered for a
moment, which gave him half a yard advantage on her. She regained her
poise and pulled harder, but couldn't catch up.

Suddenly the explosive splashing of his kick stopped. It had been the
only thing she had been able to see. Just as she twisted her head to
look for him, a hand closed on her outstretched arm. Her fingers
brushed the end of the pool. Then she was swept up against him, and her
back came up against his heaving, hairy chest. Before she could get her
feet under her his arm was around her, and his hand was cupping her
breast. She fought against his intimate grasp, but it was futile.

"Tut-tut, Mrs. Penncroft," he chided her. "It was a perfectly fair
race."

Heat flooded through Judy from the man's bold, possessive touch on her
bare breast. She could feel his cock nuzzling her buttocks insolently
and tried to squirm away from it. "Please . . ."

"I happen to know just how badly you want this listing," Mr. Shein
informed her, "and why."

Judy relaxed in his arms. She was cursing the way her body was
reacting. Something about the hard, hot hairy, muscular man behind her,
the rough touch of his hands on her bare breasts and belly, and the
cool water, all were conspiring to send her passions soaring.

"I am interested in selling my house, Mrs. Penncroft," Steven Shein
went on, sliding one hand down her belly. His fingers pressed into the
warm hairy tangle of her pussy. He probed her hot, slick, excited
vaginal opening. "As a matter of fact, I would even accept a lowly
million and a half for it. It so happens I need the cash right now.
However, as I said, any broker in town can get me a million and a half
for it. If you are to get the listing, the exclusive listing, you are
going to have to offer some additional incentive."

Judy remained silent.

"Let's see," Mr. Shein murmured softly. "The commission for a sale on a
million and a half is - uhm - around fifteen thousand. Add to that the
commission you could get from a buyer, and you have a nice round thirty
thousand dollars."

Judy was a little amazed at the research the man had done.

"And, as I recall, the cost of a home kidney machine happens to come to
a nice, neat, even, thirty thousand dollars," Steven Shein finished
smoothly.

Judy had let her thighs drift open as he drilled his finger into her
pussy. His probing had admitted a wash of exciting, cool water to her
sensitive, burning tissues. She felt her stomach muscles writhing
excitedly. His hand on her neatly rounded breast was firm and
confident. He pinched and twisted her nipple expertly. His cock was
nuzzling into the crack of her ass like a small animal burrowing after
a reward.

Judy tried to excuse her behavior by reminding herself what the money
was for. If she didn't get the machine for Mark, he would be gone
forever in a few short weeks.

And, Steven Shein wasn't an unattractive man, either. Which thought
made what was going to happen seem worse.

The aroused man controlled Judy's petite body as easily as if she were
a doll. Swinging her around, he hooked his arms under her knees and
shoulders and lifted. With insolent ease, he sloshed up the steps in
the corner of the pool, Judy in his arms.

With a whimper of misery, Judy pressed her face against his chest. She
felt the hot sun burning the water off her pale bare skin as he carried
her across the deck. Then she was lowered to the lounge, spread on her
back in the harsh glaring sunlight.

Over her, a shadowy, menacing presence, stood Steven Shein, his face
invisible because of the glare of the sun. Painfully visible, however,
was the huge shaft of his erect phallus, jutting out from his thick
pubic bush. Judy closed her eyes.

Shein stood over the small woman, his eyes devouring her bare beauty.
Her small, slender, graceful body made his mouth water. The pale bikini
stripes across her heightened his interest in her. She lay on her back,
one knee bent, concealing nothing from him. The dark brush of her pussy
seemed to almost tug at his cock from a distance - it was like a magnet
pulling at him.

Bending over her, he closed his hands over the soft mounds of her
breasts. Her skin was cool from the swim and satin smooth. Her nipples
burrowed into his palms as he mashed the fleshy globes against her
graceful ribs.

"Aaaahhh," Judy moaned softly as fire washed through her. She knew she
shouldn't be enjoying this, but knew, too, that she was going to. Her
head rolled with building excitement, her fingers curled.

Releasing one of Judy's breasts, he reached down and touched the inside
of her knee. Gently, he pushed outward, spreading her leg to expose
more of her pussy. Huddled far down between her graceful thighs, deep
in the heart of her black bush, nestled in the crevice between her
pouting, full labia, was a flash of exciting pink flesh. His probing
finger had already told him that her vagina was almost virginal - much
tighter and hotter than his wife's.

He stroked the back of his fingers down the silken flesh on the inside
of her thigh. Reaching her pussy, he spread her labia carefully. Her
inner folds were a brilliant pink, shining wet, slick and juicy. The
bud of her clitoris gleamed like a pearl in the bright sunlight. After
coating his finger with her juices, he gently teased that nerve-loaded
button.

"Wwaaahhh," Judy moaned at the sparkling blue sky. Her toes tensed, her
hips rolled and twisted. Fire was slashing through her sun-baked flesh
as she lay naked and unprotesting under the man's insolent
explorations. "Aaawww," she moaned again as her lust soared higher. She
tried to tell herself that she was impatient for him to get it over
with, but knew that wasn't really it. She wanted his cock in her, deep
inside her, that was what she was impatient for. She reached out
blindly and found the hard, hot shaft. A burning drop of slippery fluid
seared her fingers as she curled them around the knob-head of Shein's
hard pulsing prick. She stroked the powerful, heavy cylinder, trying to
build his excitement, encouraging him to thrust his prick into her
belly.

The woman fondling Shein's cock was writhing like an animal in the
bright sunlight. His hands looked brown and hard and brutal against her
soft, pale flesh. One hand still engulfed one of her breasts. A pert,
pink nipple peeked out from between his pinching fingers. He diddled
the steaming folds of her weeping pussy with the fingers of his other
hand. Her slick secretions had coated his fingers. Her hot milking grip
around his thrumming, ready prick was lifting him higher and higher.

Finally, Steven Shein lowered himself onto the petite real estate
agent. The aluminum and plastic of the lounge groaned as his weight was
added to hers. Her skin felt like satin against his hairy body.

Judy spread her thighs wide as he came down on her. She kept hold of
his cock until she had nestled its head at the opening to her ready
vagina. Then she awkwardly pulled her hand from between them and
clutched his hard, muscular back. She heaved her hips up in an attempt
to get the cock she needed so desperately into her.

Judy's pussy embraced the sensitive head of Steve Shein's cock like a
velvet glove. Thrilled with the hot, gripping tightness of her tunnel,
he eased his phallus into her with gentle, careful pumps of his hips.
She was tight, deliciously, delectably tight, a hot clinging sheath of
living flesh embracing his stocky cock. He could feel wisps of wiry
pubic hair scratching the skin of his shaft as he eased it into her.

"Aaaawww, fuck me," Judy moaned, wrapping her legs around his muscular
hips and urging him deeper. She spurred him on with her heels, urging
him further into her hot, hungry hole. "Fuck me," she whispered. Her
animal lust had burned away all of her hesitations and inhibitions. All
that mattered now was reaching that wonderful, burning peak of
pleasure.

Shein was grinning ferociously, his muscles knotting as he bored his
explosively swollen prick into the hot, willing, eager body under him.
He clutched her firm flesh with his powerful fingers as he pistoned his
cock into her eager pussy.

Judy was heaving and jerking under him, her hips lifting and driving
against his thrusts. His pubic arch smashed against hers, pulverizing
her clitoris into a patch of fiery pleasure. She clawed at his broad
tanned back, kicked his muscular working buttocks with her heels, to
spur him deeper, then pushed her feet against the lounge in an attempt
to raise her pelvis higher. The rivets and joints of the lounge
squealed in protest at the pounding action. The enclosed pool deck rang
with the slapping, heaving, panting, gasping, juicy sounds of their
linking.

"Aaww, awww, awwww, I'm cum-I'm cum-minggg," Judy gasped. Her athletic
young body arched clear off the lounge as she climaxed.

With an animal whoop of pleasure, Steven Shein slammed his cock deep
into the straining body under him, and rode out her violent orgasmic
bucking. His own cumming was hanging barely out of reach as he brought
her off in a gush of juices so copious that they drenched their tangled
pubic bushes.

"Aaaahhhh," Judy sighed, her muscles relaxing as her orgasm faded away.
She lay limp under Shein, fighting for breath. It wasn't until he began
to move again that she realized that he hadn't yet climaxed. She lay on
her back, dazed, feeling his huge phallus pistoning and squashing in
her fulfilled vagina. She was too exhausted to do anything other than
just lie there limp, taking his powerful, demanding thrusts. Then
suddenly, she was roaring up that searing slope of pleasure again.

Steven Shein heaved his cock into the lax body under him, pounding his
shaft into her. His head nestled in the curve of her neck, he rammed
his hungry phallus into her clinging sheath again and again and again.
He felt her breasts mash flat against his unforgiving chest, felt her
nipples burning into his skin. He was aware of her pubic bush scrubbing
against his, her sleek, smooth thighs rubbing against his hard hairy
ones. It all added up to an incredible symphony of sexual sensations, a
blazing orchestration that was building toward a crashing carnal
finale.

He heaved and thrust and felt the fire explode outward from his groin.
Ripping pulses of thick semen spattered deep in the heart of Judy
Penncroft's body as he poured his load into her. His body knotted and
strained as he speared her guts with his spouting tool.

"Aaaaawwww," Judy wailed. She felt limp as an old dishrag as a second
orgasm blazed through her. She felt every quiver of the cock convulsing
in her vagina and instinctively milked the pulsing, pumping organ with
her muscular channel.

Then the pulsing inside her slowly died away, and Judy's pleasure
faded. As her lust went away, nausea and disgust at what she had just
done filled her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought back tears of
shame. Her vagina seemed to snap shut as the man climbed off her, his
dripping cock spraying her thighs with their mixed juices. She didn't
get up from the lounge until she heard him dive into the water.

On shaking legs, Judy stood up. She felt sweaty, soiled and filthy. For
a moment she debated, then decided it would make little difference now.
She went to the edge of the pool and executed a smooth, graceful dive
into the cool, refreshing water. She swam the length of the pool and
back, twisting and turning to cleanse her body of the lust-sweat and
cum, then hauled herself out onto the hot deck. After dying herself
with Steven Shein's towel, she dressed. Then she took the listing
agreement from her purse and filled in the blanks.

Shein stopped swimming. Standing in the shallows, his limp cock looking
rippled and strange through the water, he took the agreement and the
pen from her. His signature was as bold as his gaze.

"Thanks," he said shortly, handing the signed agreement back to her.

"I'll find my own way out," she responded coolly.

Judy didn't start to shake until she was sitting behind the wheel of
the car. Then she leaned forward and rested her head on the cracked
steering wheel and shook. Finally she regained her composure.

Now, to make it all worthwhile, she had to get the buyer.

* * *

Judy was relieved to find the brokerage office unoccupied. She
deliberately left the blinds drawn and re-locked the door so she
wouldn't be bothered. A note on her desk told her none of the other
agents would be in. With a weary sigh, she sank down on her chair. A
sticky, wet coldness in her panties made her shudder. She was oozing
thick, gooey cum. Steven Shein's cum.

She decided not to do anything about it. The discomfort seemed a just
punishment for her whoring. And that was exactly what it was, she told
herself - whoring. She had debased herself, used her body for material
gain. It was no better than what she would have had to do if she had
kept her job at the bar.

She reminded herself of the reason for what she had done. It had been
necessary. It was a matter of life and death. Yes, she had used her
body, and yes, she had been unfaithful to her husband. But, it hadn't
been her idea, it had been Shein's.

Still, she had done what she had done.

The only thing she could comfort herself with was her ultimate purpose.
She had improved Mark's chances of survival. There was an uncomfortable
"Catch 22" aura to the situation she found herself in. To save her
husband's life, she had to be unfaithful to him. To save her marriage,
she had to break her marriage vows.

Judy rubbed her forehead, fighting a headache. She consoled herself
with the idea that she wouldn't have to be unfaithful again. Steven
Shein had admitted he was eager to sell, that he needed the cash. And
she had his signature on the listing agreement, which was binding. In
the acres of fine print there were ways he could wriggle out of the
agreement, but they weren't simple. He could, of course, reject any of
the offers she got on his property, but it wasn't likely he would. Not
if, as he said, he really needed the money.

Judy's next task was to convince the potential buyer. The sooner she
managed that, the better. Technically, she was an employee of the
agency. Technically, the listing agreement and her employment contract
bound her to share the listing with the other employees of the agency.
She was entitled to the seller's commission, less a percentage to the
agency. If someone else found a buyer for Shein's house, they would get
the buyer's commission.

Judy needed both commissions. So, it meant breaking the agency's rule.
She slipped the listing agreement under a stack of yellow legal pads in
the bottom drawer of her desk. Then, instead of filling out one of the
five-by-eight cards that went into the central listing file, she
reached for the telephone. If she moved juickly enough on arranging the
sale, she might get away with it.

If she was found out, she would probably lose her job. She would
certainly lose all rights to any commissions from the deal.

"Mr. Andrew McCarter, please," she said to the telephone. "Mr.
McCarter, this is Judy Penncroft of the Calder Agency. I believe I have
just what you want." She nodded. "It's not exactly what you specified,
but I think when you see it, you'll like it." She nodded again. "The
seller is asking more, but I'm sure we can talk him down to a million
and a half." Patiently, Judy nodded again. "I know, I know that is more
than you mentioned - not that much more, though. I'm sure that you'll
feel it's worth the extra money. It's an exclusive listing."

"When can you see it?" Judy swore quietly to herself. "I'll have to get
back to you about when. . . . Yes, I'm sorry I can't arrange it
immediately. . . . The seller insists on an appointment. I'll be right
back in touch with you, Mr. McCarter. Thank you."

"Shit!" Judy said loudly after hanging up the receiver. She had
completely forgotten to arrange with Shein about showing the house, she
had been so flustered when she had left him. Now she was going to have
to call him. The last thing she wanted to do was talk with him.

Grimly, she picked up the receiver and dialed the Shein's number.

"Mr. Shein, this is Mrs. Penncroft," she announced, deliberately being
formal and distant.

"No, I am not calling to arrange another morning workout," she informed
him icily. "I'm calling to arrange to show your house to a buyer I have
in mind. When would be convenient?"

Judy flushed pink, then her knuckles whitened as her grip on the phone
tightened. "Mr. Shein, I have already given you that particular form of
kickback. I would appreciate it if, from now on, you would keep our
relationship on a suitable businesslike basis. Now, when may I show the
buyer the house?"

Judy started to make a note on her desk calendar, then changed her
mind. She didn't want to leave written evidence of what she was doing
right out on her desk top. After carefully writing on a note pad, she
tore the sheet of paper off.

"Thank you, Mr. Shein. You'll leave the key where? Thank you."

Judy sighed with relief after hanging up, then quickly dialed again.

"Mr. McCarter? Judy Penncroft again. The seller will be out of town
tomorrow afternoon and the house will be empty. May I pick you up at
your office about one o'clock . . .? Very good, I'll see you tomorrow
at one."

After hanging up, Judy fiddled nervously with the note. Then she folded
it carefully in half and put it in her purse. Then she slumped down in
the chair, totally exhausted. She had known when she had set out that
morning it was going to be a difficult day. But it had become even more
nerve-wracking than expected.

As Judy slumped at her desk, her elbows pushing the blotter slowly
across the polished wood, she became aware of the thick odor of sex
that was drifting up from her crotch. Instead of finding the aroma
exciting the way she usually did, it made her feel sick. She got up and
went into the small washroom, and carefully locked the door. She hauled
her soggy panties down and off. Tossing the scrap of nylon in the sink,
she turned on the hot water. While they were soaking she dampened a
paper towel and hauled her skirt up to expose her pussy. The hair was
matted and stringy with partially dried cum. Brisk scrubbing separated
the twisted coils of curly pubic hair and left it bushy and resilient.

The rubbing and stroking triggered a perverse wave of sexual
excitement. She remembered the feel of Steven Shein's stocky, sturdy
cock in her vagina and bit her lip. She hated to admit, even to
herself, that she had enjoyed the encounter.

After wiping the pale smooth flesh on the insides of her thighs clear
of cum, Judy wadded up the paper towel. The lid of the trash container
banged and clattered. After rinsing out her panties, Judy hung them
over the light to dry and went back out to the empty office. If someone
did happen to come in, which wasn't likely, she could make a quick dash
for the washroom and retrieve her panties.

Pacing the office only increased Judy's awareness of her pantiless
state. Cool air touched her swollen tissues, reminding her of the
caress of the cool water during her nude swim that morning. She became
aware of the exciting silken friction between her thighs, and
remembered the hard, scratchy feel of Steven Shein between those same
soft thighs.

Judy tried to control the surge of sexual excitement her memories
brought. She stared out at the sunlit street. It had been a fluke, and
it wasn't going to happen again. She had never been unfaithful to Mark
before, and she wouldn't ever be again. Even as ill as he was, he was
all the man she needed, she told herself.

But God, Shein's massive cock had felt good pistoning in and out of her
hot hole. It had been big, and delicious, and exciting.

If Mark ever heard about what she had done, it would kill him.
Disgusted with herself for dwelling on what had happened, and enjoying
the reliving of it, Judy turned away from the window and went to get
her panties. It was going to be a strain to go home and face Mark and
act as if nothing had happened, but she had to do exactly that. After
the fourth senseless circuit of the office to straighten something that
didn't need straightening, Judy took a firm grip on herself and made it
out the door.

Perversely, this time the old car started on the first try. Leaving the
usual stinging blue cloud of oil behind her, Judy headed for home.

Chapter 3

"Judy? How'd it go?"

Even though she had been expecting her husband's question, Judy
hesitated for a split second. She had never lied to Mark before. "Oh,
all right. I got the listing, just as I expected."

But not the way I expected, she added silently to herself.

She suddenly noticed the faint gleam of sweat on her husband's face. So
soon? Was it starting again so soon? "How are you, darling?" she asked
softly, bending over to give him a kiss. She caught his faint,
distinctive odor - the smell of a body slowly going sour.

"Can't kick," he replied, half seriously.

Judy frowned. "Your knees again?"

Mark grinned tightly, humorlessly. "My knees, my ankles, my hips, my
shoulders, my elbows. Hell, even my toes hurt."

Judy settled down in his lap and cuddled him tenderly. "Oh, Mark," she
said miserably. "Maybe we should call and reschedule your appointment?"

"And lop another half a week off my life?"

Judy winced. "With the listing I got today, if I line up the buyer,
too, that'll do it."

"Think it'll all pan out?"

"It has to," she said quickly.

"I don't know how you think you're going to do it," he commented
innocently.

Judy lurched guiltily, then snuggled against him, ignoring the clammy
coldness of his skin. "Just be the best damn real estate agent in
town."

"And how many hours of work is that going to take?" he asked. "Judy, I
want you with me as much as possible. We don't have much time together
left."

Judy stiffened, angry. His defeatist attitude rankled. He was talking
as if she was sure to lose him.

"Mark, I'm working so we'll have each other forever," she argued.

"The vows said 'Til death us do part,' nothing more," he reminded her.
"Death separates everyone sooner or later. In our case it's going to be
sooner."

"No sooner than necessary." She glared at him. "What's gotten into you?
You've never been a quitter."

"I'm not quitting, I'm being quit," Mark replied sourly. "I'm not
pulling the plug, God and that damned Committee are pulling the plug."

Judy surged up out of his lap, furious. "Nobody's pulling the plug on
you," she snapped. "I don't know why God has done what He's done,
that's His business. As for The Committee, they made what seems to them
to be the best decision." She was pacing furiously back and forth in
front of him. "As for us, we are not giving up. I am not giving up, and
you are not giving up. I am not going to let you give up. We are going
to fight and keep fighting until we get a dialysis machine!"

And what I went through for you today is not going to be for nothing,
she thought bitterly.

Mark slumped wearily. The sweat was thicker on his forehead. It was
forming shining beads. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he apologized weakly.
"I guess the damn, damn itching is getting to me."

Judy felt a surge of sympathy for him, but no regret for her outburst.
She knew it was getting harder and harder for him to fight, and she had
to keep him going, any way she could. Of all the symptoms of his
disease, the worst was the itching. He described it as a creepy,
crawling sensation just under his skin, as if the flesh was softening
and melting away.

"Why don't you go get undressed?" she said softly. "I'll run a bath for
you, then I can give you a rubdown."

"Okay, honey," he sighed, hauling himself up out of the chair.

Judy watched him leave the room, then slumped down in the chair
herself. She covered her face with her hands and rubbed her eyes
wearily. If she had been the crying type, she would have cried. Before
all this had started, Mark had been brave and powerful and strong. Bit
by vicious bit he was being eaten away by the dread disease. His
physical strength had rapidly vanished, and now his courage was fading,
too.

She knew, she had learned, that dialysis patients had the highest
suicide rate in the country. Forever dependent on a stainless steel
tank full of cellophane-like tubes and membranes, they suffered the
tortures of the damned as poisons accumulated in their bloodstreams.
The plastic tubes piercing their arms itched and ached, the skin around
them ulcerated and tore no matter how careful they were. The plastic
shunts constantly had to be repaired and replaced.

Added to that was the unending expense - three hundred dollars a
treatment, one or two treatments a week. And for Mark, because of his
rare blood type, there was the additional problem of finding the blood
needed to prime the machine.

With a sigh, Judy got up. At times, she felt almost as weary and beaten
as her husband did. But, she couldn't give up - she wouldn't give up.
This morning she had taken a step toward saving him. It had been a step
downward, true. But she had done it, and she was glad she had.

Mark was nude when he came into the bathroom. Judy steadied him with
one hand as he stepped into the cool water. She carefully avoided
noting how much more of his muscle tone had melted away. But she
couldn't avoid eyeing his cock and mentally comparing it with Steven
Shein's. Mark's was longer when limp, though slightly smaller in
diameter.

The way it bobbed and weaved as he lowered himself into the water
brought a brilliant memory of Shein's cock rolling and twisting during
the impromptu backstroke race.

"Feel good?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Aaaahhh," Mark sighed. His knees pushed up out of the water as he slid
down and immersed his torso. He threw her a grateful look. "You're
getting your skirt wet," he pointed out.

Judy glanced down. "Doesn't matter, it needs washing anyway."

"I'm sorry I'm falling apart," he apologized. "I know you're trying
awfully hard. But the chances of getting enough money to get the
dialysis unit are just plain pitiful. And I'm tired of having a hope
held out in front of me, like a carrot in front of an ass, and then
snatched away. And even if we somehow get the unit, how are we going to
get the money to pay for running it?"

"You'll be able to work again," she reminded him.

Mark snorted. "Sure. High school athletic coaches really rake in the
dough."

"I'll be working too," she said determinedly, getting up from the edge
of the tub. "When you're done soaking, come on out and I'll give you a
massage. As for running the kidney machine, that's a bridge we can
cross when we come to it."

She went out to the bedroom and started to sit down on the bed, then
remembered her skirt was wet. After letting it drop around her ankles,
she stepped out of it. Wearing just her blouse and her panties, she sat
down on the bed and waited for her husband.

Wordlessly, Mark wandered in from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around
his hips. He flopped bonelessly, face down, on the bed. Sliding over
until her hips pressed against his, Judy twisted and began kneading the
tense muscles in his shoulders and neck.

Mark grunted appreciatively as her strong, yet graceful fingers prodded
and squeezed his souring flesh. After working his shoulders over from
the center outward, Judy began to work down his back. Her hands were
dwarfed by the expanse of flesh, making her task look almost endless.
Judy wished that the task was endless. She loved Mark, loved doing what
she could for him, loved giving him pleasure. He had told her that cool
baths and her thorough rubdowns were the only things, other than having
the poisons purged from his blood, that eased the agony.

At the small of his back, Judy was forced to twist awkwardly around.
She got to her knees, then straddled Mark's thighs. She tugged at the
towel until it came free, unwrapped his hips, and exposed his hard
white muscular ass. With the same easy motion she had used on his back,
she kneaded his buttocks, her thumbs probing into the hairy crack
between them. Then she worked her way down his thighs, finally
finishing by rolling his hairy calves between her palms.

Unstraddling him, she moved up next to his shoulders, hooked her hands
under one of them and pulled. Mark neither resisted her, nor helped
her. It took a huge effort on her part before she got him flopped over
on his back.

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that his cock was half erect.
She swallowed tightly. She wasn't horny, not after Steven Shein. But
she knew what the rubdown was inexorably leading to. It always did. She
knew she couldn't break the pattern.

After arranging Mark's arms out to the sides, as if he were being
crucified, she straddled his hard, flat stomach. She massaged the sides
of his neck with the tips of her fingers, then bent down and gave him a
gentle, tender kiss. His torso felt warm and sturdy between her thighs
and under her buttocks. She gripped his flanks with her knees as if she
were riding a horse.

Finished with his neck, she proceeded down to his pectoral muscles. As
she worked her way down from them, she slid her ass lower on his body.
She felt his cock jab her in the rear and lifted, then lowered herself
on it. It lay up against his belly, hard and stiff in the crack of her
ass.

As she massaged the muscles of Mark's solar plexus, he reached up and
unbuttoned her blouse. Then he spread it open to bare the graceful,
firm, pink-tipped mounds of her breasts. His big hands formed a truly
living bra for them, pressing them against her ribs, kneading and
squeezing them.

Judy felt the crotch of her panties get suddenly wet where it was
stretched tight across her pussy. She broke off her massage long enough
to shed the blouse and dropped it off to one side of the bed. Then she
sat up straight, her hands on her bare thighs. Her spine was straight,
her shoulders back - the graceful, controlled posture of a gymnast.

Mark's eyes filled. She looked like she was just past puberty: small,
firm, pert breasts with tiny, tight, excited nipples. He slid his hands
up from her waist until his thumbs swept over the mounds of her breasts
and scrubbed her sharp pink tits.

"You still have your panties on," he informed her.

"I'm not done yet," she said softly.

"Oh?"

"When I give a rubdown," she stated, "I give a rubdown."

"Do all your customers get such personal attention?" Mark asked,
smiling.

Judy flinched. "Certainly not, sir!" she snapped, in mock outrage.
"Only the big tippers!" She rolled his cock against her tight bottom to
emphasize the pun.

Mark chuckled, and pushed his hips up slightly against her weight. He
continued his tactile study of her tender, nubile breasts.

Judy was bubbling with excitement from his touch, and the feel of his
cock trapped under her ass.

"If you will unhand the masseuse, she will continue her task," Judy
commented at last.

Reluctantly, Mark released her breasts. Before letting go, his thumbs
and fingers tugged gently at her nipples.

Judy slid lower on her husband. Looking down, she watched his cock peek
out from under her. As she slid lower it looked as if she was growing a
cock.

She remembered Steven Shein's cock, then tried to put it out of her
mind. Shein's cock wasn't as long as Mark's, but was bigger around when
erect. Judy bit her lip. Mark's innocent comments kept getting to her.
If she wasn't careful, she was bound to give her infidelity away.

She dug her thumbs into Mark's belly, then massaged lower and lower,
letting her hands follow the line where his thighs joined his body, an
arrowhead that ended in his groin. Mark's stomach muscles quivered and
convulsed from the touch of her hands so close to his sexual organs.

Judy slid her thumbs down between his thighs, under his balls, and
lifted them gently. She rolled them on her fingers, watching the way
the heavy ovoids shifted in their sac. Then, laying his sex glands back
between his thighs, she stroked her thumbs up the length of his cock.
She felt it swell and quiver from the delicate, tantalizing
stimulation.

Mark was aware of the pressure of Judy's ass on his legs, the way her
thighs and knees were gripping his. He was watching the way her breasts
shifted and quivered as she leaned over him, her arms pressing against
the sides of her boobs to make the valley between them deeper and more
exciting. The feathery touch of her thumbs endlessly stroking the
length of his cock, from base to tip, seemed to draw blood from every
part of his body to the already bloated organ. He felt a stinging wave
of fire as his glands produced a flood of lubricant. It oozed the
length of the channel in his prick. Then Judy deliberately smeared the
liquid over his phallus. It made her thumbs slippery, changed the feel
of her stroking, made it even more wildly sensuous.

Judy wriggled her ass lower, and leaned farther forward over Mark's
groin. The tight crotch of her panties felt chill and sticky from her
own excitement. But she wasn't going to take his cock in her vagina.
Her conscience told her that she didn't deserve that joy after what she
had done with Shein. Instead, she would concentrate on giving Mark all
the pleasure she knew how.

She lifted his cock with her fingers and lowered her head to it. The
tips of her breasts brushed his big thighs as she neared her goal. She
opened her lips, carefully wrapped them around the head of his phallus,
and drew her head upward, letting his prick slide from her pursed lips.

She immediately lowered her head again, and took his cock further into
her mouth. She added the stimulation of her tongue this time. Her mouth
was filled with the salty taste of his fluids, her nose was engulfed in
the musky smell of sex.

She bobbed her head, taking more and more and more of the hot, heavy
tower of flesh into her mouth, pressing and massaging it with her lips
and tongue. She scrubbed the hot tips of her breasts against Mark's
hairy thighs. Her nipples burned with lust. She clutched his legs
between her thighs tightly, loving the feel of his strong, hard flesh
against her tender skin.

Her eyes closed, she sucked and sucked and sucked her husband's cock,
taking it as deeply into her as she could without gagging. With her
hands she stimulated the part of the shaft she couldn't get in her
mouth, matching the stroking of her fingers to the moves of her head,
tugging and stretching the loose skin over the hard inner core of his
phallus.

Mark's entire being was focused on the feel of Judy's sweet young mouth
massaging his erect prick. Her tongue was a velvet mass pressing and
scrubbing the most sensitive spot on the underside of his prick, making
his groin burn and ache with lust. Her lips, a hot, wet ring around the
shaft, were excitingly different from a vaginal embrace. And the way
she pulled and stretched the skin of his phallus near the base, with
her fingers, gave the impression she had taken the entire towering
organ down her throat.

Streams of fire seemed to be pouring through Mark's body, funneling
straight to his groin to form a simmering pool. From time to time he
lifted his head and looked down the length of his body. He loved seeing
Judy's face spitted on his cock, loved to watch her devour his towering
organ. Then the muscles of his neck would tire and he would drop his
head back on the bed.

Judy's own guts were burning up with unfulfilled lust. She truly loved
sucking Mark's cock, even though it left her own vagina empty and
hungry. And this time her lack of fulfillment seemed only just in view
of her infidelity.

She took another fraction of Mark's cock in her mouth, to the back of
her tongue. Then she slid the fingers of one hand down under his balls
and lifted them gently. She scratched high on the underside of his
scrotum, tickled the hot pocket between his thighs.

She felt his testicles drawing up toward his body. She thought of
cannonballs drawing near the breech of a big gun, knew they were
getting ready to unload their burden down the barrel of Mark's cock.

Mark's hips were heaving now, thrusting his prick at his wife's face,
jamming it into her. He tried to hold back, to keep from forcing his
phallus too deeply into her mouth, knowing it would make her gag if he
did. She helped restrain his thrusting hips by pinning his thighs down
with her warm, soft torso. He could feel her tits, hard knots, digging
into his thighs.

Judy matched the bobbing of her head to the flexing of Mark's hips. She
took as much of his cock in her mouth as she dared - as much as
experience had taught her that she could without choking. As the
violence of Mark's heaving increased, Judy speeded the moves of her
head.

He thrust upward, and, simultaneously, Judy pushed her head downward.
With the fingers of one hand she tugged gently on the saliva-coated
skin of his prick. With the fingers of the other hand, she pressed
against the hard pulsing ridge behind his balls. She felt that ridge
tremble, felt the semen rush the length of his prick.

A heavy wad of cum spurted from his phallus into her throat, making her
swallow reflexively. She began sucking and swallowing frantically as
wave after wave of semen spasmed into her mouth. She felt each hot gob
of fluid pour down into her belly to form a warm, muscle-knotting pool
in her stomach, which she had never let it do before. She had let his
cock spurt into empty air, or she had taken his semen in her mouth and
then spat it out. This time she was swallowing it as penance.

She found she enjoyed it, enjoyed ingesting the thick, creamy liquid.
The massaging and squirming of her tongue as she swallowed kept his
cumming going on and on and on, until at last his prick was pumping
drily in her mouth, its reserves of cum exhausted. Slowly, the
convulsing died away and the organ between her teeth began to shrivel
and soften.

Judy spat it out, then laid her head down, Mark's wiry pubic hair
brushing her cheek, the cum and saliva-coated mass of his prick against
her ear. She lay there for a long time - until the last hungry
convulsions of her empty vagina died away. She had had an orgasm in
spite of herself.

At last she pushed up, about to say something to Mark. The sight of his
sleep-placid face stopped her. He had dozed off while she had been
cuddling him.

Judy dismounted carefully, trying not to shake or jostle the bed. Mark
shifted slightly, then began snoring easily again. Judy's panties were
soaked for the second time that day. She stripped them down her legs
and off. Then she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror.
For a moment she studied her trim young body in profile - a series of
graceful feminine curves and smooth pale skin.

"Breasts too small," Judy muttered, irritated with herself for her
narcissism. She pulled on her bathrobe and went to get dinner started.
As she worked in the kitchen, her mind kept going back to her
infidelity, dwelling on it no matter what she did.

While Mark had been suffering at home, she had been screwing around
with a strange man, with total abandon. New waves of disgust flooded
her. Even when she reminded herself that she had gotten the listing,
her guilt was a sharp knife in her guts.

How could she have done that to Mark? And how could she have enjoyed it
so much? She couldn't deny that the orgasm Shein had given her was
every bit as good as any she had ever gotten from Mark.

"How's the sexiest chef in the world?" Mark asked, wrapping his arms
around her. He slid one hand inside the front of her robe and cupped
her breast.

Judy lurched with surprise, and guilt, then leaned back against him for
a delicious, fleeting moment. "She's going to burn something if her
husband doesn't unhand her."

"Humph," he grunted, giving the side of her neck a kiss.

"Have a nice nap?" she asked after he let her go.

"Ummm hmmm," he acknowledged.

"Feeling better?"

"For now . . ."

Judy bit her lip. She knew what the rest of the statement was - "Wish
it could last."

"What's for dinner?" Mark asked at last.

"Chili."

"Again?"

"On rice. Makes the meat go farther."

"Goody, goody," Mark sighed. "Christ, I wish I could have a drink!"

Judy shook her head. "No."

"I know. No alcohol, no coffee, no tea, no cola beverages," Mark
recited grimly. "I never have smoked. What's left in life, anyway?"

"Sex, of course," Judy answered easily, carrying the food to the table.

"Thank God for that," Mark said heartily, pulling his chair out. He
stared pensively at his plate.

On a sudden impulse, Judy bowed her head and did something she hadn't
done since she was a child. "For that which we are about to receive, we
thank Thee," she muttered. "Amen." And God forgive me for what I have
done, she added silently.

Mark looked startled. "Grace?" he asked in surprise.

Judy shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Thought we might as well get all
the help we can," she answered.

Mark began eating. "You really think you can pull off this real estate
deal?" he asked between bites.

Judy picked at her dinner. "I have to."

"I know you have to," Mark replied. "But do you think you can?"

Judy slapped her spoon onto the steaming plate of chili and rice as if
she were trying to kill it. "I have got to do it! I will do it! I will,
I will, I will!"

"Okay, okay," Mark soothed.

"Sorry," she apologized.

He touched her hand tenderly. "It's all right. God, I wish I could tell
you, or show you, just how much it all means to me - all the things
you've done for me."

The knife turned in Judy's guilt-ridden guts. "Just keep on living,
that's all I ask. If-if you go and die on me, I'll never speak to you
again!"

Mark smiled. They had made that joke before. "When do you meet with the
buyer?" he asked.

"Tomorrow at one," she answered. "I'm going to show him the house
then."

"How are the chances?" he asked. "Honest injun."

Judy shook her head. "I don't know. Mr. McCarter wants something a
little more traditional. The Shein place is very modern. It is the
right size, and it has a pool, and an incredible view. The price is a
little high. I don't know."

They were both silent for a while.

"But I've got to sell it! I've just got to!" she said softly.

They finished dinner in silence.

Chapter 4

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Judy asked, concerned.

"I'll be all right!" Mark snapped. "Go on, get the hell out of here."

"But . . ."

"If you don't go, you'll lose the sale for sure," Mark argued. "And if
you do, what will happen to me then will make today look like a tea
party. Right?"

"Yes," she agreed softly. "But still . . ."

"Go," he snorted. "Go. There's nothing you can do for me here anyway.
Now go, already, before you're late."

Judy opened her mouth, then closed it. There was nothing to say. Her
feet dragging, she turned, picked up her purse and left the house. Once
behind the wheel of the car, she sobbed once. Furious with herself, she
coaxed the car to life, blinking back her tears.

Mark was being consumed by a terrible agony. They were stretching the
time between treatments much too far, and they both knew it. They were
buying desperately needed time, but at a dreadful cost to Mark.

Judy had wanted to get an emergency appointment and take Mark to the
hospital today. This time, though, he was the strong one, and refused.
He insisted that the situation with McCarter and Shein was too delicate
to risk any postponements or cancellations of appointments. Judy knew
he was right, which made what she had to do harder.

She fogged the streets with pollution as she headed for her rendezvous
with McCarter. He was waiting in front of his office when she pulled up
and double-parked.

"Here I am, Mr. McCarter," she called out cheerily, leaning across the
seat.

The well-dressed man eyed her car dubiously. "Would it be better if we
took my car?" he asked.

Judy studied him. His wavy red hair was meticulously arranged. He was a
big, strapping Irishman, or at least Irish-looking, with fair skin and
freckles and blue eyes. His lightweight suit was beautifully and
expensively tailored, the shirt and tie color coordinated. Definitely
an impressive man.

"Okay," he agreed, opening the door. It let out a groan of protest.

"Just look out for that broken spring," she warned, motioning toward
the sharp wire sticking up from the center of the seat.

Andrew McCarter leaned tentatively against the door, then checked that
it was closed tightly before putting his full weight against it. As she
pulled out into the traffic, Judy was conscious of the man's careful
appraisal of her.

"Must inhibit snuggling at the drive-in," McCarter commented.

"What?" Judy asked, puzzled.

"The broken spring," McCarter explained. "Must get in the way when
you're with your husband."

"Oh, we use the back seat," Judy said absently. Then she realized what
she had said and blushed furiously.

"Ah ha," the red-haired man responded with a grin.

Judy changed the subject. "I'm sure you'll be pleased with the house,"
she said. "It is a bit more modern than you indicated, I admit. But it
has all the features you asked for, including a swimming pool."

"The cost is a little high," he noted.

"I think it's worth it," Judy stated confidently, guiding the car
around a corner. The engine labored as they headed up into the hills.
"I'm certain you'll find it worth the extra money."

"Mmmmm," McCarter replied noncommittally, watching the scenery.

When his eyes shifted back to Judy, she felt it and fought the urge to
squirm. Fearful of babbling unnecessarily, she held her tongue. Her
small size made it necessary for her to sit up very straight to see out
of the car. She knew he was studying her trim torso and the way her
blouse molded to her breasts. As usual, she wore no bra. She felt a hot
flush burn her cheeks.

It was a relief when they reached the Shein house. She located the key
where Mr. Shein had left it and managed to unlock the big door. Pushing
it open, she stepped aside to let McCarter go first.

He held back. "It's very modern," he noted.

"But very comfortable," Judy countered quickly. "There's none of the
coldness or sterility you find in most contemporary houses."

"We'll see," McCarter replied. He stepped through the big doorway.

She escorted him through the house, saying no more than she had to. Her
brief experience at selling houses had convinced her it was better to
let the house itself do the talking. She tried to gauge the big man's
mood, but wasn't successful. She found herself wondering just how he
would look without any clothes on, and blushed again. Andrew McCarter
was impressive - over six feet tall and very well built. He appeared
very trim, he must work to keep himself in shape. His shoulders were
broad, his belly firm, with no hint of a paunch.

Finally they wandered out along the length of the deck surrounding the
pool. McCarter leaned his big hands on the railing and looked out over