Until They Shout

CHAPTER ONE   But everyone hadn't. Now she heard muffled voices coming from the outer offices. She listened at her office door, opened it an inch, and peeked out. "Do you have the files with you?" Earl Lord, one of her account men, asked. "Just what you asked for, it went off as smooth as a baby's ass," the heavy-set man with the beady eyes answered. "Well? What the hell are you stalling for? Let's see them." Earl Lord's voice thundered through the stillness of the closed offices. "You mean right here?" The other man asked. "Are you sure we're alone? These films are pretty hot stuff." "I would expect them to be. I wouldn't have hired you to get the goods on just any old chain department store purchasing agent. Before I parted with my money, I knew for damned sure Paul Mauro was a cunt man with a rusty load in his poke. Yes, we're alone, now let's see what you've got." Roberta Colby watched, wide-eyed, as the fat man set up his projector on the reception room desk, focusing it on a blank wall. She didn't make a sound and even tried not to breathe. "You wanted evidence on Paul Mauro and that's what you've got," Fat Man said, fooling with wires, adjusting knobs, and breathing just a bit heavier. The meaty hand flicked a switch on the projection machine and a multi-colored square appeared on a far wall, directly in Roberta's line of vision. The scene was obviously a motel room interior. Shadows, like a dark tongue, licked at the young girl's white t**s. A man's finger unclenched slowly and slid over the soft meat of her breasts. The wet palms rubbed sweat on them, making them gleam. "Who's the chick?" Roberta heard Earl Lord ask. "One of the salesgirls from his Long Island store. They've been using the same motel room every Thursday night for six weeks now. It cost us fifty clams in payoff to the night clerk to rig the room." "Uh-huh." Roberta listened ... and watched. The girl let her mouth open a little wider, softly and teasingly letting her tongue creep out. It moved a slow, trembly circle around her lips, wetting them. It did an upward-cupping dance suggestively. The male star of the private movie nodded, sweated. The camera caught the girl's hardened n*****s as they rose to stiff points. It was obvious that the girl had been prompted before to kiss her lover's c**k. Paul Mauro's face was a mask of passion. This was not her first look at Paul Mauro's p***s, and she fell to her knees and grasped for it. It throbbed long and hard in front of her face. At first she just licked over it and occasionally let it slip briefly into her mouth. With a white hand, she reached out and grasped the jerking spear, massaging the gorged head that was swollen and mottled with lust ... a heart-shaped plum, aimed straight at her mouth. Roberta could see vividly the c**k slither from the girl's encircling lips, pulsing warm and rigid against her mouth, jumping again as she slid her tongue out and over it, licking it as her clenched hand tried to hold the lurching shaft still and buried in the oven of her working mouth. The girl's lips stretched to a strained O by the thickness of his p***s, the head plunging down her throat, almost gagging her until she adjusted to the long, thrusting strokes as he f****d the clinging ring of her lips with his c**k. She pulled on it and sucked on it hard, her tongue always working, making slurping sounds. It seemed to Roberta that Paul Mauro (she recognized him; had been trying to land his account for a long time) was going to pump his straining c**k into that mouth forever. But then the familiar face of the man disappeared between the young redhead's legs, his wet tongue lapping at her tender slit, his lips sucking hungrily at her soft folds, opening them to purse his lips around her c**t. The girl gasped again, arching up as he sucked at her cunt, rooting greedily at it, eating her until the hot juices were dripping out of her, all too vivid on the screen. Paul Mauro quickly climbed up the redhead's thrashing body and took her with one long stroke of his spearing prick, filling her with its hardness and wringing a series of twists of exquisite pleasure from her body. Then the girl crouched over his body, her hands supporting herself by resting on his chest. Paul reached between her thighs and positioned his c**k, guiding it between the cunt lips that were as moist as her mouth. Her stockinged thighs, outstretched to make her cunt as tight as possible, were pressing into the bare flesh of his legs. She rode herself on his flagpole c**k, the big prick easily slipping into the wet p***y, the muscular rod moving tightly, firmly, up the clenching and unclenching hole. He stroked her n*****s as her eyes stared boldly into his. She twisted her hips sharply, her face giving expression to the feel of the penetration in every inch of her belly. She churned her bottom around and around to make his prick leap in her cunt. They f****d in a steadily faster rhythm. They filled the screen, f*****g until the girl's body was bounding up and down on his, her t**s jumping and shaking with passion, her stiff red n*****s painfully tight and hard, her eyes gleaming with boiling desire. Paul Mauro's hands groped around to the cheeks of her ass. He was sitting up and holding firmly to her buttocks as they wobbled this way and that. Although the film was soundless, the girl was obviously screaming with delight. Something inside Roberta Colby was screaming too. Roberta Colby, at twenty-nine, was the perfect picture of a Manhattan career woman. Perfectly coiffured and groomed, she was a strikingly handsome brunette, with a lushly mature figure. But there had been almost no time for the use of that body in Roberta's carefully planned scheme of things. She had decided that her first million would be made before age thirty. Her one-time s****l experience had been back in her college days, and then she considered it to be only mildly pleasurable and highly overrated. Watching, Roberta was at first horrified, then embarrassed and wanted to stop peeking out from behind the door of her darkened office. Then she became suddenly aware of her own quickened breathing, of her own n*****s rising hard and aching against the confines of her bra. A strangely pleasant crawling sensation moved along her thighs, spread up over her belly and fanned out to her breasts, growing to an almost unbearable urgency and need that she'd never known before. She found herself scissoring her moist thighs together, and she wondered, What's happening to me? This is terrible! I should be disgusted with that monster Earl Lord for trying to get his sales by what is obviously a blackmail attempt. But instead I'm getting all excited, wet inside and out, and I don't understand what's happening to me! Roberta felt herself making a little outcry, as though that wonderful, thick c**k was moving inside her own belly. She tore her eyes from the screen, aware only of the terrible hot desire flooding her own body and the pearls of passion running wetly down her thighs, her own hips began to move with a strange, wanton rhythm. She heard some scurried movements in the outer office and the front door being closed, but she couldn't think of that now. All her demanding brain kept saying back to her was, You have to do something. Oh, somebody help! Suddenly, from behind her, Earl Lord's voice said, "Roberta! What is it? Is anything wrong? You look...." She turned, flustered and trembling, and saw him standing in the doorway of her office, with the look of a little boy caught in the cookie jar on his darkly good-looking face. "I heard you cry out as though you were being hurt. I thought you had left for home long ago." Then he put his scattered thoughts together as he saw her flushed face, the darkness of her passionate eyes, the soft, helpless moistness of her sensuous lips. He had seen woman with that look of passionate need, that please f**k me NOW! expression, before. He recognized it instantly. "I see. You were watching our little erotica movie, too, is that it? And it got you all uptight, eh, boss lady?" His voice indicated he knew he was once again on safe ground with his lady employer. He reached out and took hold of her hand; the first time he had ever touched her. "Why, you're trembling. All that bad? Here, let me comfort you." The heat of his body penetrated through her dress and Roberta lost whatever little control she had left. She arched toward him willingly and little moans escaped her lips, although she tried to hold them back. He moved just slightly and she could feel his hard prick throbbing against her tummy. All her sanity was lost; the picture of a dipping c**k still galloping through her brain. Her hips ground against his. Her soft mouth opened under his and her velvet tongue came forward to meet his. He moved her back toward the couch, hearing her fierce breathing. "Get naked," he said. She shook her head once, twice, but then obeyed, tossing clothing wildly through the air and over her desk. The proud gourd-shaped breasts leaped forth as the bra was peeled away. They quivered gelatinously, the grape-like tips projecting invitingly. Two thumbs were moving her filmy panties, and she was naked before him, her marble flesh gleaming in the night light of the semi-dark office. "Say it," Earl Lord demanded. "Say f**k me." "Oh, God, Earl. Don't be cruel! Yes, f**k me! But hurry! Oh, what's wrong with me?" "I'll tell you what's wrong, baby." He was getting undressed too. "Nobody serviced you in a long time. Too busy making money, isn't that it? Don't worry, I'll take care of all your problems, bitch." He looked into her eyes, as if they could tell him if he had gone too far. He hadn't. The eyes were still pleading. She sat down on the couch and lay back, flesh quivering, breath gasping. She clung to him with the embrace of a sinking lover, sinking ... sinking ... sinking into the swaying ocean of desire. Roberta felt the fine shreds of panic enveloping her like cords. Her hand became a cup, moving down between their bodies, farther into the pocket of his groin, and the erection darted between her whirling fingers. She cried, crying like a bird, like a gull, like a sea creature, as he bent into her, the full weight of him. Her body against his, bared and moving in almost juvenile eagerness, a juvenile's desperation. She hurled her arms tighter around him, drawing him into her, and her breasts were bouncing and jostling around the lines of his mouth, his mouth feeling her n*****s erect. Earl Lord sucked easily at them, feeling from within that her first orgasm was beginning to attack her like hidden fingers inside her belly. She felt herself rising, rising, now set for the explosion itself, poised on its rim, wanting to let go, yet hoping this would never end. "No," she screamed. "Stay with me, stay with me!" And she opened like an sss, an uncoiled spring against him, and the fleshy connection went deeper, ever deeper, and like a mad dog his unleashed prick dove into her, closer and closer to the core. Her n*****s were grazing his cheek now, his cheeks inflating as he inhaled her flesh, her inner cunt muscles energetically dragging him into her, seeming to milk at his backbone through the tube of his c**k. As they f****d deeper and deeper, he lifted her buttocks from the couch, bearing down on her with his c**k. He lunged the hard, thick meat deeper and faster into Roberta's wet and wild well, sucking furiously on her titties. She maneuvered her body so that her feet touched the floor. Earl's body moved frantically on top of hers, his toes too just on the floor, his thighs locked together between hers. The slipping down of her feet forced his c**k to penetrate her from a new angle. It was driven almost vertically into her gulping p***y, the thick stem twisting upwards, digging hard into her, pushing against the c**t with every forward spring, and she had to grip the sides of the couch for support. His prick in tighter than ever now, Earl felt himself on the verge of coming, the excitement surging his body, dipped snugly in the clinging mass of her creamy liquid. He rammed her back cheeks together as his gush of sperm shot into her, feeling her ass tense and contract between his fingers, taking it all in greedy spasms, writhing madly with the warmth of its delivery, deep into her belly. Her hands moved to his buttocks now, demanding, urging, guiding. Her fingernails dug into the flesh and she abruptly let out a wailing cry of surprised delight. The furious, angry demand of her all but consumed him, leaving him a limp huddle of male flesh on top of her body. Later he whispered against her ear, "God, woman, you're too much! We've wasted a lot of time, know that?" Roberta didn't answer, swimming in her own lethargy, nerves gently asleep, a feeling she had never experienced before. Then, splitting the silence of the quiet office, she said, "You sonofabitch! I saw what a rotten bastard you are tonight, with that filthy movie:-well, I won't have it! If that's the only way you can earn your commission around here you can get the hell out and...." "Hey, cool it, boss lady. Things are different between us now." "Nothing is different between us. This never happened ... and will never happen again: Better believe it. I'd fire you right now but...." "But you're afraid I'd spout my mouth off tomorrow, right? About what an act the cold Roberta Colby is putting on, what a hot b***h she really is, once you get to the nitty gritty of her, right?" Roberta said nothing, but he could feel her trembling. She got up off the couch, walked to the bathroom, picking up pieces of her clothing as she went. At the door, she turned, holding the dress over her tummy, hiding the soaked mound of hair from his view. "I repeat, this never happened. And if you're smart, you'll leave it that way. Or you just might find yourself on the unemployment line tomorrow." Then she disappeared, and Earl stood there naked, hearing the shower run. He shrugged, closed one eye in deep concentration, and then bit his lip in a slightly worried gesture. Then he quickly dressed and made his way out of the office, down in the elevator, and out into the refreshing night breeze on Madison Avenue. At the corner, he stopped for the first edition of the next day's New York Daily News. "b***h," he mumbled. "I'll fix her!" "Huh?" the raggedy old newspaper woman said, holding her hand out for the dime. "Nothing, forget it," Earl Lord grunted, and headed for the subway entrance. Hanging onto a strap on the IRT subway, Earl Lord could feel the juices drying around his crotch and on his inner thighs. Back in the office, Roberta stared at the wall where the ugly movie had played just a half hour before. Now it was blank, just as if this all had never happened. Had it? Yes, it did happen. She'd have to live with that. More important, she would have to live with asking herself, what kind of woman am I? A pig? God, it could have been anyone! Sure, Earl Lord was attractive-but that isn't what had turned her into an animal. It was the movie. And then she realized, but didn't say it aloud. In that one mad moment, she would have f****d a snake if Earl Lord or some other man wasn't handy! She tried to tell herself that it wouldn't happen again. But with a pang of shame that stung throughout her body, she realized that it probably would! This thought, though unconnected, led Roberta to look out the office window, down onto the alley that separated the building from the hotel next door. She had heard some of the girls in the office giggling over some of the scenes they had witnessed through the windows of that hotel. Midafternoon things, usually executives stealing "a quickie" with their secretaries, etc. But now the rooms were dark, or in some cases, the shades were drawn. But what puzzled Roberta was; why had she been drawn to even look? Hadn't she seen enough ugliness this night?