Worlds Apart

WORLDS APART

by

W. L. Telford

5

On the Interstate Carol’s mind had drifted, but exposing herself to the boy, and the bulge tenting his jeans, brought her back to the present.  That must hurt, she thought. 

She half-turned toward Brad, leaned against the door, and raised her left foot onto the seat, leaving the other on the floor, knees far apart, her wet cunt toward him.  “How much farther?”

He glanced at her and grinned.  “It glistens.  Can’t wait?  Won’t be long.  Ten minutes.”  When his right hand moved from the steering wheel to her thigh, she could not quite stifle an inarticulate sound.  The first of many she would make that night.

Forest broken by a few scattered farm houses and cottages in starlight.  She closed her eyes, opening them again when his hand left her for the steering wheel as he turned onto a gravel driveway, which climbed almost a quarter mile up to what he called a cabin, but was a modern multi-story house.  A sensor automatically turned on lights both inside and on a deck as the Lexis came to a stop.  The sides of the house were wood; the front all glass.

“I own the hill,”  he said.  “No neighbors in sight or sound.  You can scream all you want.  Leave the coat.”  And this time he didn’t help her with her door.

Instead he opened the trunk, removed what looked like two duffle bags, and carried them across the deck to a sliding glass door.  Awkwardly in the darkness and her heels, goose bumps on naked skin, she followed.  There was plenty of room for parking, she noticed.

“Leave your shoes,” he said as he opened the door.  “To welcome the others.”

Barefoot she followed him into the living area, which rose to the full 30’ height of the house.  A kitchen was beneath a balcony that she supposed lead to bedrooms.  A huge stone fireplace filled one end wall.

One of the bags contained a self-inflating mattress.  She sat on an ivory colored leather sofa as he set it up.   “I doubt you’ll remain here long, but it’s a place to start.  Have you had a drink today?”

“A martini.  Hours ago.”

He went across to a cabinet and then to the kitchen area, returning with two glasses, handing her one.  “A weak gin and tonic,” he said, and sat down beside her, his clothed leg touching her naked one.

“Your guests should start arriving soon.  Oh, I almost forgot.”  And he got up and went to the other bag, which was still by the door.

“Time to mount your thrown.  Hands and knees.  Doggie.” 

Her momentary pleasure at the thought that he was going to fuck her  ended when she felt a nozzle press against her anus and gel squirt inside.

“After the first few, you’ll loosen up and there will be plenty of come to lubricate, but we don’t want you to tear at the very start.”

She was disappointed when he returned to the sofa.

“Don’t you want me?”

He laughed.  “In time, babe.  But I want you to be aware that you are the kind of girl who spreads her legs for total strangers.  And that’s just what I want you to do.  When you hear that first car coming up the drive, I want you on your back, juicy cunt pointing at the door, legs spread in the widest V you can manage, feet in the air.  Then I want you to beg whoever it is to fuck you and make you come.  In fact, get that way now.”

Taking a camera from his pocket, he walked around the mattress. 

“Raise your head.  Look at me.  Smile.”  The flash went off several times.  

“ ‘Before’ shots.  To be compared with ‘after’.” 

Her hand jerked at the sound of an engine.  Ice cubes rattled in the glass.  Brad reached for it.  She took a deep gulp.  “Assume the position.  You lover approaches.  I wonder who it is?  Don’t you?  But then you don’t know any of them.”

‘V’ing her legs, she let her head fall back onto the mattress.  Her eyes  fixed on lights built into the ceiling far above her.  She felt her body trembling.  She wanted to run.  But there was no place to run.  And she didn’t really want to run.  She wanted to be right where she was.  She had placed herself there.  But she wanted it to begin.  A car door slammed.  Men’s voices.  More than one, but she couldn’t tell how many.  Steps on the gravel; then the deck.

One voice, “Nice shoes.”

Another, “Hey, Brad.’

And a third,  “V’ for victory.”

She raised her head and saw three men, one probably in his twenties, the other two around her own age.  Average looking guys.  The kind she saw every day and didn’t really notice.  Just guys.   Two were wearing jeans and t-shirts, the other slacks and a short-sleeved Hawaiian print.  “Please fuck me,” she begged.  “Please fuck me and make me come.”

“All right!”  And they gave high fives.

“Only one at a time at first,” said Brad.  “And in her cunt.”

They started to argue.

Brad said, “First one undressed goes first.”

Carol let her head fall back, but she heard the hurried sounds.  Then a triumphant, “I won.”  “Shit.”  Followed almost instantly by a body falling on her, knocking the breath from her lungs.  A hard cock slid easily past her outer lips and buried itself.  No foreplay.  The entire week had been foreplay.

It was the youngest one.  He had brown hair and his breath smelled of beer.  The irrelevant thought passed through her mind that she didn’t know his name or if Brad had told him hers.  Names?  When his cock felt so good.  Her legs were pushed back toward her ears by his shoulders.  She was almost bent in two.  Bracing himself on his hands and toes, his body straight, he pounded her hard and fast. 

“Oh God.  Oh God.  Oh God.”  She chanted, ever louder until she went over.  “Aaagggh!”  Flopping beneath him like a hooked fish, she felt him flood her cunt.

“Come on,”  a voice said.  “Get out of the way.”

Post-orgasm, she needed time to recover.  But there was no time.  Another body fell on her.  Another cock slammed in and begin pumping in and out.  And she found she didn’t need time.  Already she was building toward another orgasm.  It built and built.  But this guy shouted and shuttered and came too soon.  She had barely started to descend when a third body pressed her down.  Were there more voices?  She hadn’t heard other cars.  But then she was already half out of her mind and her screams could have drowned out an ambulance.

A face above her.  Lips pulled back in animal grimace.  Forth of spittle.  A face of pain or hate or ecstasy.  Or all three.  She didn’t care.   She gasped the words aloud in rhythm to his thrusts.  “I don’t care.  I don’t care.”

Carol Edwards shuttered to her second orgasm as she felt herself being filled with semen for the third time.   A weight on the mattress near her head.  She turned.  A spongy cock shiny with pre-come shoved into her mouth.  Another into her cunt.  And she--and everyone else--lost count.

Faces came and faces went.  Laughing.  Sneering.  Gasping.  Groaning.  Sweat fell from them onto her.  Brown hair.  Blond.  Gray.  Bald.  Cocks filled her cunt and mouth.  Spewed.  Softened.  Withdrew.  Were replaced.  Mostly white faces; but a few Hispanic and black.  She tasted the differences between the first few loads in her mouth, and then like cheap wine, it all began to taste the same.  A pubic hair caught in her throat.  She choked.  A flood of semen washed it down.

The house had filled with men.  She heard snatches of conversation.

“Great looking piece.”

“Yeah.  Brad said she was, but better than I expected.  Wonder why she’s doing this.  She wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone to fuck her.”

…

“What’s the slut’s name?”

“Donn known.  Donn care.  Fuck meat.”

“Hey, Brad, what’s the slut’s name?

“Carol.  Carol Edwards.”

…

“Is that ring for real?”

“Yeah.”

“So where’s her husband?

“Somewhere.  Asia.  Australia.  Somewhere over there.”

“Man, if that were mine, I’d be home nailing it to the mattress every night.”

…

“Where’d Brad find her?”

“Some charity thing, I think.”

“I’d donate.”

…

“No.  You go next.  I’m waiting for that fine ass.”

“Brad.  Brad.  When you going to open the other holes?”

…

A familiar face.  She knew this face, but couldn’t place it.  Then, of course:  it was Brad.  Her lips wrapped around a cock, sucking, she could only see him intermittently, until the cock came and she swallowed.

Brad’s cock slipped into her swamped cunt.  There was so much come, she could hardly feel it. His full weigh came down on her.  His hands gripped her ass as he rolled onto his back, keeping his cock lodged in her cunt, before moving his hands to each side of her head, fingers twining in cum streaked hair.  Locking her face a few inches above his.

“I want to watch this in your eyes,” he said.

Why?  she wondered, already dazed and confused.  What’s going to happen?  Until other hands spread her ass.  “Ohhh,”  she screamed.  “No.”   Her anus displaced and partially blocked by Brad’s cock in her cunt, resisted being forced open.  Below her Brad saw her green eyes widen in pain and disbelief as it was breached.  Two cocks buried completely within her.  She had never felt so full.  They began to move, separated only by a thin membrane of flesh.  “You’re going to rip me in two,” she tried to protest, but was cut short by a third cock plunging into her mouth.  Airtight, she thought.  So this is what he meant.   And the crowd went wild.

Cheers.  Shouts.  Applause.   “Give it to the cunt.”  “Fuck her.  Fuck her.  Fuck her.”  “I’ve got the asshole next.”  “Mouth.”  “Cunt.”  “Form lines.”

Words and sounds reached Carol only dimly.  She was stuffed, skewered, impaled.  Yet she couldn’t multitask. The cocks ramming into her did not blend.  Each was distinct. 

Her mind focused on one then another.  At one moment she felt the veins in the cock with her tongue.   Then her nipples dragging over Brad’s chest.  Each hair.  Then the fingers of a man she had not yet seen digging into her ass.

A pain in her neck as the cock in her mouth forced her head back. 

Brad and the man in her ass settled into a rhythm:  one thrusting in, while the other pulled out.  But she screamed as they lost it and both plunged in at the same time, all but drilling completely through her and meeting in her gut.

Her cunt had already been stretched and was too loose, and her over stimulated clit almost hurt.  She didn’t think she could come again.

The cock in her mouth was enlarging, swelling with blood and come.  She tightened her lips and sucked, and it spewed.  Brad saw her throat swallow.  And the sight made him come.  As he forced his hips up, they forced her ass back onto the third cock, which drill deep, causing it to come.  Carol’s mind whiled from one to another to another in an endless circle.  I’m flooded, she thought.

She collapsed onto Brad, her breasts flattening against his chest.

“No,” she heard him say, as new cocks approached her.  “I want to glaze her first, now while she is still at least partially aware of what’s happening.”

Groans.

He rolled her off to the side.  “You’ll all have plenty of time to recover and come again.  But we’re going to do this now.”  Then to Carol, “Roll onto your stomach.”

She did and lay there, spent, eyes closed.

“All right.  Everyone around the mattress.  Jamie and Bill just came and are excused.  But everyone else.  No exceptions.”

Some of the men were naked; some dressed.  Most had glasses or bottles that they had to set down to free their hands.

Zippers.  Labored breathing. Stroking.  Something splattered against her shoulder blade.

“Wipe it off in her hair.”

A wet cock against her skull.

Spatter on the soles of her feet.  Then more quickly, volleys on her ass, the backs of her thighs, her spine.  Everywhere.

“That’s enough for this side.  Anyone volunteer to rub it in?  I’ve got some rubber gloves.”

Hands moved over her skin.  “Cover every inch.  Between her toes.  Lift her hair and get the back of her neck.  Inside her ears.”  A camera flashed.  “No.  Only me.  There are guys here who don’t want to be seen.  I’ll email all of you copies that don’t show any faces except hers.”

“Onto your back.”

When Carol didn’t move, a hand slapped her ass.

“Wha...What?”

“Roll over.”

She did. 

“Arms out. Legs apart.  O.K.”

A hot sticky rain.  Some thick.  Some watery.  In gushers and in droplets.  On her feet and legs and belly and arms and hands and breasts and throat and face.  Cock after cock erupting, then being wiped on her face or in her clotted hair.

“She can spread it out on this side herself.” 

Carol opened her eyes.  Come slipped into them and blinded her. 

“You don’t need to see.  Just reach down and coat yourself.”

“My eyes sting.”

“We’ll clean you up when you’re finished.”

Keeping her eyes squeezed closed, she sat up and reached down for her feet.  Her fingers recoiled, then spread the slippery substance.  Over her ankles, working their way up.  It was, she thought, like applying suntan lotion.  And it wasn’t.  It was not suntan lotion beneath her fingers, but come.  The come of she did not even know how many men.  Strangers.  She had never even imagined such a thing.  She did not know the time.  Had it been one hour or three?  Whatever, she had already been fucked that night by many more men than in the first 35 years of her life.  And it had only just begun.

“Don’t miss your armpits.”

Her nipples responded to her hands.  She covered her throat.  Spread come across her cheeks and lips, nose and forehead.

“I think that’s got it.  You can lie back.”

Camera flash penetrated her eyelids.  Brad was right, she thought and understood perhaps for the first time,  this night really is life altering.  She imagined the pores of her skin as large as if under a microscope, come pouring through them into her.  She would never be able to fully wipe it off.  The image, the memory indelible.  I will never be the same.  What must I look like? she wondered.  It would be a few days before she saw the inhuman answer.

…

Led to a shower, washed, dried, led back to the wiped down mattress, her body ever weaker, her nerve ends numbing.  “I can’t,” she mumbled as her thigh muscles gave out while she was riding one man with another in her ass.  So they fucked her yielding flesh themselves.

Ever more dimly she felt hands pulling and pushing her yielding body, arranging and rearranging it  as they wished.  Face up.  Face down.  On her side.  Almost always two or three cocks in her.  Her throat hurt.  Too many cocks and too many screams.  She lost her voice.

Men sat and stood, watching, the frenzied smells and sounds of sex filling the night, waiting for an opening.  Some left.  New ones arrived.  Some stayed for seconds and thirds.

...

Brad Tomalin’s cellphone rang.

“Hello, Ross.  What is it, Saturday afternoon there?”

I missed that.  Too noisy.”

To Ross Edwards it sounded as though he were calling a sports bar during a big game.

“I want to talk to Carol.”

“A good one, Ross.  She’s more than a little occupied at the moment.  And will be for many moments and hours to come.  I’ll send you some pictures.  Just a second I’ll take one now.”

“I’m going to come back there and kill you.”

“When?”

“When is this going to end?”

“Sometime Sunday morning.  Around thirty more hours and I have no idea how many more men.  Didn’t Carol say you were going to Shanghai?  Got to keep your mind on business, man.   Hey, Willie, get off her face for a minute and let the slut say hi to her husband.”

Brad walked over to the mattress and held out the phone. 

On the other end, Ross heard only a low kneeing.

...

The emailed image arrived a few minutes later.

He could not see much of his wife.  One foot in the air beside a man’s butt.  He was shocked at the toenail polish.  Part of a shoulder and arm.  The rest was hidden by men’s naked bodies.  Ross couldn’t tell how many or exactly what they were doing to her.  One, presumably ‘Willie’ was sitting on her face, but what part of him was directly over her mouth was unclear.  Was his cock in her mouth or her tongue up his ass?

“The bitch,” Ross said aloud, as against his will he felt his cock harden.  “The fucking bitch.”