The Chamber

Julie Hines sat in stunned silence, unable to believe the words that spewed from her husband's mouth. "You want me to do what?"

Bill Hines made a gesture with his hand. "No big deal, just have sex with the Greg McKenzie."

"No big deal, huh?" She looked at him as if he were an inmate from an asylum. He had always been an off-the-wall guy, but this- "You're crazy, you know that? Why should I screw another man? What's wrong with

our

sex life?"

Bill sipped his coffee. "Well, it's kind'a shrinking, wouldn't you say?"

Her mouth dropped open. "What? You're the only one that's shrinking. Besides, how

would me having sex with another man help?"

"I dunno. Just thought it'd be exciting for you." He paused. "Wasn't the sex you had with your uncle and brother exciting?"

Julie looked down at her folded hands, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment. "That happened before we got married."

"I know, but that doesn't make it less exciting. C'mom, whadda got to lose?"

"Only my self-respect." Julie shook her head. "No, I don't think I can do it."

Bill nodded and pushed away from the table. "Well, just thought-"

"Wait a minute! Does Greg know about this?"

He hesitated. "Well . . . sort'a."

She looked away. "I might have known."

"Look," Bill said, getting up from the table, "take the rest of the week and think about it?"

"I don't have to think about it. No!"

Julie waited for a few minutes after Bill went to bed, then poured a glass of wine. Something about this didn't smell right. What would her husband gain by this? As she sipped her drink, visions of having sex with Greg McKenzie intruded her thoughts. More than eight years had passed since she had a strange cock inside her. How he would feel inside her?

Like a mental light switch, her thoughts turned to the incestuous affairs she had with her brother and uncle. They were delicious times she tried to forget, yet the illicit sex kept breaching to the forefront of her mind.

The week passed with agonizing indecisions. Each hour, each day, the same questions rumbled through her brain. If she went through with this, would Greg be pleased with her? Was she beautiful enough? Would he be satisfied with her small breasts? Could she do all the things to him that she did with her husband? She doubted any of this would make a difference. Men were men. Still the same questions rolled off her silent lips, until the more she tried to make sense of it all, the more indecisive she became. But after much probing and urging from Bill, she reluctantly decided to go through with it.

Delighted, he and Greg installed a gate in the rear side fence. Now they could go to each other's house without being seen from the street. But it didn't matter. They owned the only two houses at the end of a short cul-d-sac.

Friday evening-8:30. Flashes of lightning heralded the approach of another thunderstorm. Bill escorted Julie across the backyard. At the gate, she paused and gave him a nervous smile, then passed through the gate without saying a word.

Greg stood on his large deck and watched her hurry across the lawn, trying to dodge the pellets of rain drops. The jiggling beneath her peasant blouse revealed no bra. "Hi," he said as she mounted the two steps. He put an arm around her narrow waist and led her through the sliding glass doors into the family room.

Julie stood like a zombi, arms dangling by her sides. She felt as though a giant tape worm had taken residency in her stomach. For the hundredth time she wondered if this was all a big mistake. Did she have the nerve to go through with this, despite what her husband said? Yet, in spite of the fascination, the image of an unfaithful wife gnawed at her soul.

Her heart raced as Greg ushered her down the hallway. When they came to a set of double doors, he stood aside and gestured toward the open door. She stepped in.

Her breath locked in her throat. The master bedroom bore the look of a celestial love chamber. She took it all in-the soft red lights splashing up from behind the tufted burgundy headboard, the beveled mirrored ceiling that reflected the king-size pedestal bed below. Outside, the storm howled, and the distorted shadows of twisting limbs and leaves dancing across the back of the satin drapes served only to underscore the seductive scene.

While Greg went to the kitchen to make them a drink, Julie moved to the end of the bed. She dragged the fingers of one hand over the heavy red quilt, wondering if tomorrow morning would be troweled with layers of guilt. Using her toes, she pried off her flats and, with a sigh, lowered herself on the edge of the bed.

A few more minutes oozed by before Greg returned with their brandies. He handed Julie her drink and sat beside her. They sipped in silence. As anxious moments passed, the storm had intensified, and the wind pushing through the slats of the fence howled a mournful song. She couldn't believe this-about to fuck another man.

"Nervous?" Greg asked.

"Yes," she said softly, and let a kernel of time pass. "I've never done this before. Bill is the only man I've ever had."

Greg knew the truth, but thought it wise not to mention that Bill had told him about the incest-what they did and how they did it. He rested a hand on her thigh "Really? Well, the brandy will calm you down."

Except for an occasional glass of wine, Julie didn't drink. She didn't like the idea of what too much liquor would do to her sense of control over her actions. But maybe tonight she needed to lose some control. She took a large sip and made a face as the brandy burned a fiery path down her throat. "W . . . wow. This is strong," she remarked in a coughing voice.

"Nothing but the best." He finished his drink and looked at her. She had her head down, her hands clutching her glass. She had a strange kind of pretty, Greg thought. Her long auburn hair crowned a narrow face, a pair of deep-set green eyes, and a straight nose. Yet he sensed that somewhere deep in the crevices of her mind prowled a latent banshee crying to be released.

Greg eased his hand up Julie's pleated skirt and patted her naked thigh. "Let's have another drink." He took her empty glass and padded down the hallway. When he returned five minutes later, he found Julie peeking out from behind the drapes. Setting the glasses on a dresser, he removed his pants and shirt and came up behind her, gently sliding his arms around flat stomach.

"It's really blowing out there," she said, trying to disarm the pleasure she felt from the large bulge pressing into her ass.

Gently, Greg turned her around and put his lips to hers. He could hear her emit a throaty moan as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. As their tongues entwined, he slid his hands down her back and cupped her soft buttocks. Finally their lips parted and her held her in his arms.

Burying her head in Greg's neck, Julie mumbled something, but he couldn't make out what she said. But it didn't matter. Slowly, he led her to the bed, and together they laid down facing each other. While their tongues danced back and forth between their open mouths, he eased his hand up the front of her blouse until it came in contact with her small breasts.

Trembling, feeling the growing euphoria building inside her played with her breasts, Julie eased her leg over his thigh and ground her pelvis against his.

Urging her over on her back, Greg pulled up her blouse and, lowering his head, began to suck her delicious nipples. While he did, his hand disappeared under her skirt and began to travel up the inside of her leg. Julie's moaning became louder as his fingers slid under her panties and probed the soft triangular mound of hair. He continued like this, massaging her clit, feeling her pelvis move up and down. Then he stopped and removed his hand. Without a word, he helped her off with her clothes, then, standing, he let his shorts fall to the floor.

Laying there, bathed in a reddish haze, legs apart, knees bent a few inches, Julie glanced at the shadowy pole jutting out from between his legs. Her brained screamed. Where was the end of

it?

But now he was on top, entering her, his bulbous head stretching her outer lips, forging a path for the great shaft that followed. As he pushed, she screamed and wrapped her legs around his buttocks. Deeper and deeper, plowing a path into virgin territory, past her cervix and pushing her uterine wall, until she thought he had entered her stomach. But now he was as far as he could go-their pelvis bones together in a tangled web of pubic hairs-and she could feel the climb to her orgasmic mountain.

He paused, shifted, and began to withdraw his enormous tool, an inch at a time, her vaginal lips wiping him clean. Reaching the end, he entered her again to the full length of his shaft, then withdrew. In-pausing to rotate his hips-then out, savoring the clamping sensation of her muscles. His movements were slow at first, but in less than a minute his thrusts increased, until his body worked like a well-oiled machine.

She didn't know what to do with her hands. They flailed about, gripping the folds of the headboard, clutching his shoulders, arms, buttocks, clawing the sheets, trying to get purchase for the tidal wave that was coming. Thin streams of her vaginal juices shot out when he withdrew, drenching his testicles. And then she reached the top of her mountain.

Her body trembled as she began the slide down into the depths of her soul. Screaming, laughing, screeching, she kicked her legs into the air and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. Down into the valley, then up to the top of her mountain-again and again-until her mental terrain leveled out and she was climaxing on an even field.

Greg felt his legs quiver and his toes stiffen and spread. With his arms locked beneath him, he broke free of her grip, arched his back and, burying himself deep inside her, roared as he released rope after rope of semen. It gushed forth in an unending flood, seeping into every crevice of her sex and becoming a part of her as long as she lived. But the end came for both of them, tapering off to mere drops and sudden jerks, and he fell over to her side.

Julie didn't know if she passed out from physical exhaustion or lapsed into mental euphoria, but when she woke it was still dark and the storm had not abated. Greg lay on his back, his lips fluttering in a light snore. Rolling over, she propped herself on an elbow and let her gaze tiptoe down to his flaccid penis. Even in its relaxed state, she couldn't imagine how she took all of it. How could Bill ever satisfy her again? Never had she experienced orgasms this intense. They electrified her soul, frying everything but animal instinct.

Greg awoke and caressed her cheek. "You were fantastic. I think part of my brains are inside you." He rolled over on his side and began to suck her breasts, while his hand moved about her sopping wet cunt.

Her hips thrust against his probing finger. "Oh, God," she cried. She wanted to suck his cock, bring him to another erection. But she didn't have to. Already his hard cock could break plates. "Oh, Greg . . . fu . . . fuck me."

Easing on top of her, he positioned her legs over his shoulders and forged deep inside her cunt. She screamed with each inch of him. Not from pain, but from an indescribable sensation that went beyond pleasure. When he reached the end of his shaft, he gyrated his hips, moving his bulbous head around her cervix.

She felt the pressure building inside her. Her moaning turned to whimpers, then short cries. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she grabbed his buttocks and lifted her pelvis in rhythm to his relentless thrusts. Building, building, until her internal volcano erupted into a screaming orgasm.

Julie didn't know how long they fucked or how many times she had come. Greg's amazing staying power brought her from one screeching orgasm to another. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he stiffened as he shot geysers of cum deep inside her cunt. Then it was over, and Julie could come no longer. But as Greg pulled his semi-flaccid cock out of her, she jerked with another orgasm.

They woke up to the defused sunlight coming threw the drapes. The storm had abated, leaving a clear blue shy. Julie bathed in her reverie for several minutes, then swung her feet to the floor. She looked back at Greg, who was smiling at her. "Good morning."

"Morning. How do you feel?"

Julie moved her head back and forth. "God, Greg . . . I never . . . I mean-

Greg reached over and eased her back down. His hands caressed her breasts.

"Oh, Greg, I don't think I can do it again." But she did-twice. First on top, and then doggie fashion.

When the morning orgy ended, she dressed and went home. Bill sat at the breakfast table reading the newspaper and nibbling on a piece of toast. "How did it go?" he asked.

Julie smiled and said nothing. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across the kitchen table from him.

"Well?"

"He was great. Tell me, are all black men hung like him?"