Helen Highwater

Shameless teacher

CHAPTER ONE

"Beautiful, huh, Miss Avalon?" Sally Avalon looked up from the display case of rare coins with words of polite agreement on her lips-words which died unspoken when she discovered that Willy Jessel's pale blue eyes were focused not on the exhibit in front of him, but on the generous mounds of her sweater-covered breasts. Willy was a troublemaker. A disruptive influence. She wasn't at all clear as to why he stayed on at school past the minimum required age. Certainly he was by no means a good student, and spent most of his time, in her classes anyway, staring at the ceiling or murmuring wisecracks-or fixing her with an unblinking gaze while patently paying no mind to what she was saying. Now his eyes met hers insolently, then they flickered away over the coins. "That right, Miss Avalon-worth a whole million?" he asked. "That's what the guys say." "I believe so," she responded, tight-lipped, and started to walk away. He was at her side. "Uh-Miss Avalon…" "Yes?" "I-uh-seem to be having some kinda trouble with that last assignment-you guess I could talk to you about it? I can't seem to-uh-" "Well?" she asked mistrustfully. "Uh-could we go back to the classroom so I can show where I seem to-uh-" Duty struggled with inclination, and won. "Well, I suppose so," she conceded. "Just for a few minutes, though-I have an appointment very soon." "Oh, sure, Miss Avalon," he reassured her eagerly. "1t won't take that long. It's 1ust a…uh…" They left the assembly hall, Sally nodding politely to the guard who stood by the doorway watching over the extremely valuable display of rare coins and stamps that Peter had lent to enhance the hobbies and handcraft exhibition. She couldn't smother a tiny private smile at the thought of Peter's impetuous, tender marriage proposal last night, his strong hands tilting her face up to his to kiss her soft, wide mouth while he stroked the silky tresses of her shoulder-length blonde hair. Dear Peter! She had been thinking about it every spare moment since. Or not so much thinking about it as unable to keep it away from her mind. Peter was so handsome, so capable and intelligent. She knew that he was a notorious seducer of willing women-yet when she had been true to the principles of her rather rigid up-bringing, instead of breaking off the relationship, he had asked her to marry him. Moreover, he claimed that he was delighted by the idea of having a bride who had never slept with any other man-who would still be a virgin on the night of their wedding. Her happiness was slightly clouded lust now, though, by the hulking presence of Willy beside her. His big, muscular, eighteen-year-old body seemed lust a little too close, radiating a kind of animalistic warmth, a primitive emanation of sensuality that encroached on her space uncomfortably. She wondered fleetingly if she could convincingly find a reason to cancel the few minutes she had promised him-but then she pulled herself together. After all, there would be people around the school for a long time yet, especially with the exhibition attracting various visitors. "Well, now," she said briskly as they arrived in the classroom, "why don't you bring-" "Hold it right there," said a flat-toned voice, and she turned toward the windows. The fire-escape door was open and a short, stocky man stood there. He had a gun in his hand. Aimed directly at her chest. "Shut your mouth an' keep It that way, see," the man went on. His eyes were a cold, unwavering grayness like an arctic sea. "One peep out of you and them pretty knockers gonna get a couple spare holes in em." She started to turn to Willy for help, but froze when his snicker sounded through the humming of blood in her ears. "Okay," the man commanded, "just come over here-nobody's gonna hurt you long as you just keep quiet and do like I tell you." She stood paralyzed with fear, unable to move, until Willy goosed her with a blunt forefinger, when she gasped in outrage and stumbled forward suddenly, her eyes fixed upon the barrel of the gun like a mesmerized rabbit's. "Right down the fire escape. That's it." The gun was pressed against her back, and he was clutching her upper arm in a grip that was just short of downright painful. They descended to the ground and he guided her toward the main gates, where a large car stood with doors open, engine running, a man poised in readiness behind the wheel. Slowly the man with the icy gray eyes raised the gun, and the chilly metal pressed against her temple. She fainted. She heard a voice through the swirling darkness that enfolded her. "Easy as fallin' off a log." Her eyelids felt as though they had been glued shut "One look at Jake with that gun against her head and they just opened up them glass cases and handed over all them coins without a murmur," the voice went on exultantly. "But what you have ta go bringin' her along for?" grumbled another voice. "That's a fuckin' kidnappin' rap." "Look, I told ya, if the cops find us while we're waitin' for Miles to show, we're gonna need a hostage to bargain. They ain't gonna risk gettin' her killed. Don't be so fuckin' dumb, Jerry. Shit, they'd be chasin' us right now if we didn't have her along with us." They were talking about her, she realized incredulously. They had kidnapped her; they had stolen Peter's coins and stamps and they were holding her as a hostage-No, oh, no! This was ridiculous! It was like one of those idiotic television shows! Things like this didn't happen in real life! She would just open her eyes… she would wake up from this absurd, uncomfortable dream at once. She tried to move, but there was no strength in her body. Her arms were tucked uncomfortably behind her, but when she tried to move them, they refused to obey. With great difficulty, she forced her eyelids apart, and was suddenly aware that she was in a fast-moving car. There was somebody on either side of her, and cord was bound around her wrists behind her and around her ankles, too. She made an inarticulate sound, and the men turned to look at her. One was Willy Jessel, the other was the stocky, gray-eyed gunman-Jake, she thought, recalling the earlier conversation. "Hey, welcome back, teach," Willy grinned triumphantly, baring his healthy white teeth. "Bit of a change from teachin' history, huh?" His light blue eyes were malicious, lecherous, traveling over her face and then downward. Once again his gaze was fixed upon her breasts, and the tip of his broad pink tongue passed slowly and deliberately over his lower lip. She shuddered very slightly, and his grin turned into a positive leer. "Wassmatter, Miss Avalon? Feelin' the cold?" "Ah, knock it off," Jake muttered impatiently. His eyes also appraised her, and somehow his evident lack of interest was even more scary than Willy's lustful scrutiny. "Aw, don't I get to have a little fun?" Willy protested. "Huh?" Jake grimaced, following Willy's gaze to her breasts. Then he shrugged. "Just don't go thrashin' around too much-there ain't that much room in this damn car." "Plenty of room where we're goin', huh?" Willy slowly raised one big, blunt-fingered hand with its short-bitten nails, and it hovered over her right breast. She watched, appalled, as it crept closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, like a predator stalking its terrified prey. "I been about achin' to find out if them boobs feel as good as they look all year," Willy said, almost conversationally. "I been watchin' in class. They really stand out the way you got your hands behind you, know that-Miss Avalon?" He drawled the syllables of her name mockingly, relishing the juxtaposition of the formal address with the slow approach of his hand to the cringing mound beneath her white sweater. "Biggest tits of any teacher in the school," he breathed. "An' I tell you what, Miss Avalon-I got the biggest you-know-what of any guy there, includin' the faculty. You wanna take a look at it, huh?" She shook her head fervently. "Okay, no rush," he chuckled tolerantly. "You're gonna see it plenty soon enough-an'-" He closed his cupped hand on her breast She gasped and tried to pull away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Jake was right beside her, watching the scene with sardonic amusement. "Wearin' a bra," Willy said, sounding disappointed. "What d'ya think?" Jake said. "If she didn't they'd be heavin' around like a couple plates of loose Jell-O." "Hey, what you guys doin'?" The man sitting beside the driver turned around and his damp-looking brown eyes widened. He had a plump moonface and his lips glistened from being constantly moistened with a nervous tongue. "Checkin' her out in the jug department," Willy sniggered. "Like ta get your hands on that pair, Jerry?" "Yeah!" The brown eyes glowed. 'How's it feel, Willy? Nice an' firm, huh?" "Got a fuckin' bra on" Willy grumbled. "Let's take a look at it, huh?" He released her breast, and with one swift movement he grabbed the hem of her white sweater and jerked it up under her armpits, exposing the lacy brassiere that lay beneath. "Oh please," she moaned. "Please leave me alone!" "Stick your finger in one of the cups, Willy," Jerry urged. "See if she's got padding in there, or if they're real." She tried once again to shrink away, as unsuccessfully as before, and Willy relentlessly thrust his large finger into the left cup and probed about and around the warm flesh which cringed beneath his touch. "All real, sure enough," he proclaimed exultantly. "Real nice an' smooth, like silk." He forced the rest of his hand into the cup, which made the back strap. cut into her painfully, and squeezed. His palm enfolded her nipple, which responded reflexively. "Hey," Willy reported, "she's got nips the size of a goddamn cigarette butt." "Knock it off," growled the guy at the wheel. "How'm I supposed to drive with all that goddamn yackety-yak?" The others ignored him. "Take it off of her, Willy," Jerry begged. "Let's get a look. I ain't seen knockers that big in months." She shut her eyes and turned her face away as Will/s thick fingers fumbled beneath her sweater, groping for the back fastening. He slipped it open, but couldn't get the bra off because of her tied hands, so he slid the shoulder straps down her upper arms. The flimsy garment dangled uselessly, and her breasts spilled forth beneath the rolled-up sweater. "Oh, Jesus," Jerry croaked. "Like cream or somethin'…that real white skin you can see the blue veins in, an' them nipples all pink-look at them standin' up there! Oh Jesus!" Sally's cheeks were aflame, and she felt the flush of embarrassment and shame turning her neck crimson too. The air-conditioned interior of the card had erected both nipples and was keeping them taut, although she tried fervently to force them to relax. "I'm gonna cream, never mind her tits," Willy muttered. Then she opened her eyes, afraid to keep them closed lest he take her by surprise, though there was nothing she could do about whatever entered his head. Nothing…nothing she could do about it.. He was fumbling with his fly. "Take a look down here, Miss Avalon." She didn't want to, but her eyes were drawn with irresistible fascination. He tugged open the zipper and dragged it down with a metallic hiss, and groped inside to wrestle free a thick, purple-headed shaft that jutted aggressively up from his lap. She flinched inwardly at the sight: it looked almost wrist-thick, and must have been a good eight inches long. And it was the first time she had ever seen one hard… "How'd'ya like that, huh?" he demanded proudly. "Told you I got the biggest one around, huh, didn't I? Bet you never had one this big before, did you, Miss Avalon?" She stared in horrified wonder. "Turns you on, don't it?" She tried to shake her head, but couldn't move. Nothing she could do about it… nothing, nothing, nothing. "Look," he went on, stroking its mushroom head with the tip of a finger to spread the drop of juice that oozed from the slit. "You sure turn him on, teach. Look at all that jism leakin' out there! Needs it, too-ain't easy gettin' this big dork up a broad's twat unless it's good an' juicy. Some of 'em just take a look at him an' the juice comes drippin' right out of their panties. They can't wait to get it rammed up their hole. An' some of 'em run screamin'-only they mostly don't get the chance to run far. l don't give up easy once a chick gets me goin'. What kind are you, teach? You wanna try runnin'-or are you sittin' there your twat drippin' an' ready for it?" She wrenched her eyes away. "You're disgusting," she snapped. "Oh yeah?" Willy rumbled sullenly, dangerously, and she was suddenly aware how stupid such a remark had been. Helpless. Mustn't antagonize them! Nothing…nothing. "I-" she began, but could think of nothing to say. "That ain't disgustin', teach." He grasped the monstrous organ below its broad head and started to work the skin up and down. The movement dragged her gaze back to it "Pure pleasure that is-how many cocks you had up you in your life, Miss Avalon?" The swollen shaft incredibly seemed to expand even more as he pumped it with slow, deliberate strokes. Jerry's breathing was harsh and hard as his eyes flickered between Willy's working hand and Sally's naked breasts. Jake watched with detached, cold amusement. "How many, huh?" Jerry hitched himself up in his seat and craned over the back, reaching out a groping hand. "Lemme get a feel of them things," he breathed. "Hey, can't you shift her a bit nearer me? Jake, can't you-" "I ain't climbin' around when we're drivin'," Jake announced flatly. "Aw-look, Willy, suppose you put her on your lap then she'd be near enough that I could cop a feel." Willy looked at him stonily for a moment, then suddenly he grinned widely. "Yeah," he agreed. "Okay." He slid one arm behind her and heaved her forward, stopping her from pitching against the front seats by grabbing one of her breasts as a handhold. Holding her awkwardly half-standing, half-crouching, he squirmed along the seat behind her, thrusting one leg behind hers so that she was poised between them. She felt something hard prodding at the tightly stretched seat of her skirt, and realized with a surge of dismay that it was his thrusting, rockhard penis. He pulled her back onto his lap, the jutting phallus a rigid tube beneath her buttocks, and grabbed for the hem of her skirt. "Okay," he said to Jerry. "You do what you want with her jugs-I'm gonna take a look an' see if her legs match up to the rest of her." He started to work the skirt up her thighs while Jerry, draped over the back of his seat, grasped her breasts none too gently and started to knead them like dough. She tried to struggle, unable to sit still and tolerate these outrageous liberties they were taking with her virginal body, but at the back of her mind there still beat that relentless nothing you can do… nothing Willy chuckled. "Hey that feels real good on the old dork, Miss Avalon," he told her. "You wriggle around all you want" After that she tried to keep still, but couldn't repress her starts of nervousness as her continued to edge her skirt upwards, the heat of his fingers very tangible through the sheer nylon of her stockings. Jerry had a look of almost idiotic pleasure on his face as he pulled at her breasts and hefted them in his hands. "Look at them, just look at these knockers!" he kept saying. "Oh Jesus, I can't wait to get my tongue round those nips! Look at them, Jake, willya?" "Jugs are Jugs," said Jake indifferently. Willy had tugged her skirt up above the level of her stocking tops by then. "Look, that's sexy," he said approvingly. "A real garterbelt like they wear in pictures-be even better if it was black, teach. You remember that for next time, huh?" He snapped one of the elastic tabs and she jumped as it stung her skin. Snickering, he snapped each of the others in turn, and the brushing of his meaty fingers over the bared skin of her thighs sent little shudders of tension quivering throughout her body-odd little shudders, that somehow seemed to center themselves deep in her belly… He grabbed hold of the skirt hem again and gave it a sharp, deft tug that dragged it up in back so that suddenly only her panties separated her roundly curved bottom from the worn denim of his Levi's-and from the feverish, throbbing rod of flesh that was suddenly nestling into the crack of her ass. Only that wispy barrier of nylon held it at bay. It seemed to be burning into her flesh like a red-hot brand. "White panties too," Willy commented coolly, peering down over her shoulder. "Can't see through them, neither-gonna have to get them down before we see if you're a genuine blonde, huh, Miss Avalon? Huh?" She moaned softly, despairingly. "Yeah, take 'em off her!" Jerry almost choked with excitement at the prospect, and for the moment he relaxed his efforts at her breasts to fill his eyes with the sight of her panty-covered crotch. Willy made another dexterous movement, and suddenly his jutting shaft was poking up between her thighs, obscenely rearing up from the vee of her crotch. Jerry guffawed loudly. Jake sneered. "Hey," Willy said in mock-astonishment, "just take a look at Miss Avalon's cock, willya? It's nearly as big as mine, only not so long." He reached a finger down between his shaft and her panties and rubbed it along her nylon-covered labia. She gave a violent, uncontrollable jerk of protest as a great throb of fear-was it fear?-pounded in her belly. "1s she wet, huh?' Jerry gasped. "Nah. Not the way she oughtta be." Willy took his hand away and pressed his cock backwards, so that the shaft was jammed against her Venus mound. The driver said: "We're gonna he there in a minute, you horny clowns." "Okay, Miss Avalon," said Willy cheerfully. "1'm gonna jerk your cock for you. Only next time you're gonna have to take care of it on your own, so you better pay attention. Hear me? I want you to take real good care of this every time you see it's gettin' hard an' hot" He grasped his thick shaft once again and began to massage it with swift strokes, his fist slapping her thighs on every downstroke. Jerry released her breasts finally and sat back a little to watch with hot, eager eyes. The car made a turn into a driveway, and Willy increased the pace of his hand action. Sally watched. She tried to look away, but she had to watch. She had never seen a man's penis erect before-had scarcely even seen one soft-let alone one that was-That wasThat was suddenly spurting white fluid from the slit in the tip of the flaming purple head. White fluid that was shooting upwards and striking her breasts, then dropping back in gobbets that covered his hand and her thighs with nacreous slime. The car drew to a stop. "Here." Willy suddenly wiped his slime-covered hand over her face, covering her cheeks and lips with the fresh semen. "They say it's real good for the complexion, teach!" She choked back the need to retch. "Better if she swallowed it," Jerry panted. "You good at suckin' cock, lady?" "Yeah, you never answered what I asked you before," Willy recalled. "How many men you been with in your life, huh?" Jake opened the door. "C'mon, get her outta there," he urged. "How many, huh?" Willy reached up and squeezed her breast painfully. "Huh?" "None!" she cried out frantically. "Oh, please leave me alone! Please!" "None?" Willy repeated. "Hey," Jerry croaked, "we got ourselves a real live cherry! This is gonna be real fun, huh? Real fun!"

CHAPTER TWO

She hardly heard what he said, for a spasm of terror gripped her at the sight of a razor in Jake's hand. But he bent swiftly and slashed through the cord binding her ankles, and grabbed her roughly by the arm, hauling her off Willy's lap and sending her stumbling out of the car onto a crumbling driveway, hands still secured behind her, sweater rolled up beneath her arms and bra dangling, skirt nicked up about her hips. She glanced around quickly: a somewhat ram-shackle frame house was before her, and seemed to be thickly surrounded by wildly growing woods and underbrush. No hope of being seen from the road by a passing rescuer… As she stood getting her balance and her bearings, the door of the house opened, and her heart gave a throb of relief at the sight of a woman. Surely this would mean defense and protection! She gazed longingly at the approaching figure, at the tall, rather slender brunette whose firm, high breasts moved unrestrainedly beneath a loose denim work-shirt. Her long legs were accentuated by tight-fitting faded jeans and she was barefoot. "Hi, Doris," Willy called. "We got 'em! And our hostage. Get a load of her boobs, huh?" The woman came towards them, unhurriedly. She did not return Sally's timid attempt at a smile, but looked at her pokerfaced, the way Jake had done. "Hey, Doris," Willy tried again. "Bet you'd like to get a feel of them tits, huh? You like tits, don't you? Huh?" She drawled: "You're not likely to find out what I like, kid." Her voice was cynical, hard. She didn't look much more than thirty, if that. "I know what I like," Willy announced lasciviously. "Nookie. Hot, wet, juicy nookie." He suddenly cupped one of Sally's buttocks in his hand and squeezed. "She's got the greatest ass," he proclaimed. Jerry came scurrying up on the other side. Sally could see the bulge at the front of his pants, and once again that deep throbbing of fear gathered in her belly. She said to the woman: "Please, make them-leave me alone! Please!" Jerry giggled: "No good askin' Doris the dyke, lady. She'll have you laid out with your legs spread as fast as any Of us. Jesus, I can't wait to get you spread out, honeypot!" Doris made a slight grimace and turned away, and Jake snapped: "Get in the house, fer chrissake!" "Yeah, let's get inside," Jerry leered. With his hand still on her buttock Willy gave her a slight shove forward, and in helpless obedience, she climbed the steps to the opened door and went inside. It smelled a bit musty, as though nobody had lived there for a long time: an impression heightened by the film of dust that lay over things not in immediate use. The room into which she was propelled was furnished with a motley assortment of armchairs grouped around a portable television set and a rickety coffee table, piled with used paper cups and empty cans of beer. Jake pushed her into one of the chairs and stood looking down into her frightened eyes for a moment. Then he turned his head and gave a sharp, summoning whistle. There was a clatter of claws and a pair of Dobermans came running from somewhere in the house and bounded over to Jake. He pointed at Sally and said: "Guard her." The dogs sniffed at her, and turned away. Jake explained casually: "They've done this before. They've been trained to watch you-to watch anyone they're told to guard. If you try to get out of any room without me-well, you can give it a try if you wanna know what happens." Sally sat staring at the two dogs in horror. She had no doubt whatever that Jake was telling the truth. "Outside," Jake said to the dogs, and to her relief they ran out of the room. "They're very alert-superb watchdogs," Jake added meaningfully. "They've never let me down yet." Willy and Jerry stood watching the little scene with evident enjoyment, and now another man came in: Sally recognized the pale brown hair of the man who had been driving. "All okay, Ted?" Jake asked. "Uh-huh." Tod's eyes were an indeterminate color, a sort of fishy gray-green. He looked at her now with a kind of neutral interest, as though she were a specimen of animal he had never seen before. She said tremulously: "Please, I-I need to-" Four pairs of eyes were focused on her. "You'll have to raise your hand, teacher," Willy teased her, and she blushed. Jake said: I'll let your hands loose, but remember the dogs, and don't go tryin' nothin' dumb." He pulled her to her feet and once again wielded the razor, and she rubbed her wrists with relief, then tugged her bra and sweater back into place. "Soon have 'em out again," Willy assured her. "Soon as you take your leak or crap or whatever." "Across the hall," Jake told her. She was disproportionately thankful to find that the small bathroom was recently cleaned. She washed her face clean of the dried semen Willy had smeared there, and cleaned it off her thighs. She was reluctant to emerge from that illusory haven, but a sharp rap at the door summoned her forth. She dared not disobey. The four men were lounging in the chairs around the television when she emerged, refreshing themselves with cans of beer. Willy held one out to her, and because she was thirsty, she accepted it. "Thank you," she said, thinking that perhaps she could establish some kind of sympathetic communication by acting as though this were a usual, civilized situation. "You're welcome, teach." He watched her pop open the top and take a long swallow. "Maybe I'll come watch you next time you take a leak, huh? Bet you look real cute." Doris came in carrying a plate of sandwiches which she set on the shaky table. She said: "Since I'm the only one of you slobs that knows how to cook, I'll do it; but you'll clear up after me and do the dishes, or the deal's off. Work it out how you like." She slumped down into one of the chairs and reached for one of the sandwiches. Sally stood nervously where she was, clutching her beer can, wondering if she should sit down too. She was horribly conscious of Willy's pale blue eyes raking over her body, and of Jerry's avid moist-brown gaze. Doris glanced at her once, and jerked her head towards an empty chair, and Sally sank down into it, trying to make herself inconspicuous. Without success. The two pairs of eyes never left her, and Tod and Doris and Jake checked her out from time to time. Sally sat with her eyes riveted to the screen, but saw nothing. Jake finished his beer and sandwich and reached forward to flick off the set He twisted round in his chair and looked directly at Sally with that icy gray gaze. There was a gathering of breath among the others, a silent expectation. Jake said: "We're gonna be here a day or two, schoolteacher. Then we're leavin' the country. We ain't gonna be around for no rap-kidnap or any other kind." She sat holding her breath. "It won't make no difference to us if we leave you here well an' healthy to be picked up by the cops, or chewed up dead by the dogs. We won't be here. Get that?" He waited in cold silence until she managed a tiny nod of terrified comprehension. "You give any trouble, like tryin' to get away, and it won't be well and healthy they find you," he said flatly. "And since cunt makes trouble if it ain't free for all, you damn well better put out for anyone who wants you while we're waiting. Or I'll fix you so there won't be nothin' to cause trouble over. See?" Again the long, silent, menacing stare. Again the tiny nod of compliance. He shrugged, and flicked the television back on. For a couple of minutes the only sound in the room was the enthusiastic sales pitch for Junk-o's, The Marshmallow Cereal With Tongue-Tip Tingle. Then Willy's voice: "Miss Avalon." Slowly, reluctantly, she turned her face to him. "Why don't you take off your sweater and bra, huh? Then those of us that don't like what's on TV can have somethin' real nice to look at." She sat paralyzed. Until Jake fixed on her his wintry stare, and she forced her hands into action. Slowly, as slowly as she dared, she peeled her white sweater off over her head. And even more slowly, she groped behind her back and unfastened her brassiere, and slipped the shoulder straps down her arms, and off… "Sit back, Miss Avalon, so we can see 'em," Willy urged. She sank back against the cushions of the chair, a tide of crimson shame staining her face and neck and her very breasts themselves. Nothing…nothing…nothing… The seconds crawled by, each one a blessed reprieve from some more outrageous demand, yet each an eternity of fear of what the next thing would be. The knot of tension in her belly sent tendrils all through her body, making her almost lightheaded. "Teacher's tits," Jerry gulped. "She ever do that in class, Willy?" "Nah. Woulda been more interestin' than all that history garbage. Hey, Miss Avalon, make your nips stand up. Play with 'em some, huh?" Slowly her hands rose to her breasts. Uncertainly, she touched their tips with her fingers, coaxing the pale pink nipples into little towers of hardness. "Push 'em together," Willy ordered hoarsely, and meekly she gathered the twin masses in her hands and forced them into an exaggerated cleavage. "Yeah," Willy breathed. "Jerry, you ever fuck a broad between the tits?" "Uh-" "Real big tits like the ones on her, it's somethin' else, man, I'm tellin' you." "Yeah?" "Go on-go give it a try." "Yeah?" Jerry looked around uncertainly, then gave a giggle of bravado, and heaved himself out of his chair and strutted across to where she was sitting. The bulge in his pants swelled visibly as he walked. He stood in front of her and motioned to his fly. "Fish It out for me, huh?" She swallowed hard, then reached for the tab of his zipper and pulled downward. The woolen cloth of his pants contrasted violently with the soft-skinned, heated tube of flesh that flopped out of the opening. It was twitching into hardness as her fascinated eyes stared at it: shorter and thinner than Willy's, with a head shaped more like an arrow than a mushroom; but to her eyes, and to her reluctant fingers, it felt enormous. "There's the ole joystick," Jerry said excitedly. His crotch was about level with her breasts as he stood in front of her chair, and his organ was far too close to her face for comfort. She moved her head back, flinching. Jerry gave an evil grin. "It's your jugs I'm gonna screw right now, lady," he said, "but it's gonna get a heap closer to your pretty face before we're much older." Inwardly, she shuddered with disgust. The smell of him was drifting up to her nostrils: sweaty, funky. "Now," Jerry went on, "what you gotta do, see, is kinda lean forward a bit." She leaned forward, her skin breaking out into gooseflesh when the hot head of his now rigid weapon brushed against one of her nipples, depositing a tiny drop of clear fluid. "Yeah," he breathed. "Now-squeeze 'em together, like they was before." With mechanical obedience, she pushed the fleshy globes back into that inches-deep cleavage, and he thrust his cock between them, the tip pushing into the wall of her chest. The material of his jacket and shirt brushed against her face. "Squeeze 'em harder," he urged huskily. "Tighter. Get 'em tight as you can round my whang…" She crushed them harder, and he made a slight pumping motion, back and forth, for a few seconds, never very far. Then he stepped back from her, and for a wild moment she thought he had finished, but he said: "It's kinda hard that way-you're gonna have to lay down so's I can shove it up 'n down between 'em, see?" She stared at him. "Onna floor's good as anywhere," he said matter-of-factly. "The…floor?" "Yeah. Lay down onna floor." She threw a hunted glance around the room. All eyes were watching without pity. Slowly she rose from the chair, and looked at the rug for a reasonably clean patch. She knelt down, then twisted into a sitting position, and then she stretched herself out on her back. Nothing.. nothing.. nothing… She crossed her ankles and folded her arms across her breasts. She had never felt so totally vulnerable in her life. Jerry was stripping off his pants and jacket and his undershorts. He stood above her, ungainly in shirt and socks and tie. He straddled her body, his jutting shaft poking at the front of his shirt's long tails, and she glimpsed the wrinkled sack that hung tautly behind. As though following her glance, Jerry reached between his legs and scratched vigorously. "Balls get to itchin', this warm weather," he commented amiably, then lowered himself to his knees, then rested his rather plump, sweaty buttocks on her middle. "Get 'em squeezed up, like before," he commanded, and, mutely, she did so. He supported himself with his hands and began to shove his steel-hard, fire-hot phallus through the slippery, open-ended mammary canal. She set her teeth. He was heavy, resting on her body, and she loathed the touch of him-the fear-tension in her belly was worse than ever-but at least he wasn't hurting her… "Hey, Miss Avalon," she heard Willy call, as from a great distance, "whyn'cha spread them pretty legs an' bend 'em up so's we can take a look at them virgin-white panties you got on?" She cocked up her knees and parted her legs. The throbbing in her belly grew almost unbearable as she felt those four watchers gazing at her nylon-covered private parts, and as Jerry grunted and heaved and sweated… She thought that she might pass out, or scream-the tension was too much, too much… Jerry suddenly stiffened and let out a series of strangled grunts, and hot droplets of fluid were spattering her neck and chin and shoulders. For a few moments he let the whole weight of his body rest on her middle, then he exhaled deeply and climbed off, groping for his pants. She lay there, curiously drained of energy, breasts still pushed into that fleshy tunnel, legs still wide-parted and bent to the gaze of the eyes. Fearing that somebody would descend upon her, attack her, tear her apart… Waiting… "Ain't there nothin' more interestin' on that damn TV?" she heard a voice, and somebody started to click the channel selector around the dial. Slowly, almost painfully, she relaxed her hands' grip on her breasts, and pushed herself up from the floor. Semen trickled down her upper body, its thick sliminess now clammy and cool. Feeling bruised, battered, she sank back into her chair and mindlessly focused her gaze on the television. She hardly cared anymore about sitting there with her breasts exposed.