Free Universal Carnal Knowledge Pt. 37

XXXVII

"No! No!"

Some girls stood out, however. One was Tammy, whose cheesy name had led me to assume she was American, but who turned out to be English: from Billericay, of all places. She was a state-school girl who had got swept up in one of Oxbridge's occasional (and unconvincing) efforts to demonstrate that it is not the preserve of the middle and upper classes but will take people from Essex council estates too. The girl had character, I must say; her overwhelming craving for me vied with an equally powerful need to know what on earth was going on, and for a few moments the latter even got its nose in front. When I kissed her she responded with passion then seemed to force herself to pull away.

"What's the matter?" I demanded impatiently. I had a schedule to keep, after all.

She gulped in several deep breaths as she struggled to contain her obvious desire to throw herself back into my arms. "Oh, James, I feel so -- James, I want you so much -- but --" she stammered before blurting out, "What the fuck is going on?"

"Don't worry about it," I hazarded. It was worth a try, but she was not to be so easily fobbed off.

"But I'm so confused," she wailed. "I've never felt this way before, not about anyone. And Emma and Sara, downstairs, I could see in their eyes that they're the same. And the other girls I've seen here, the redhead that showed me up here, and the girl that gave me a lift from the station -- you must know the one I mean, she drives like a lunatic --; they're beautiful and they're yours, too, aren't they?"

I admitted it.

"And I saw some others, a couple of black girls, Elspeth from Uni -- all yours, too?"

Again I admitted it and she gasped. "But how many --? I mean, how do you --? All of us..." she trailed off helplessly.

"I just seem to have this effect on beautiful women," I told her modestly. "And you are lovely, Tammy," I went on, taking her in my arms. She was, too; she had big brown eyes in a bright (but currently troubled) freckly face; her auburn hair was cut quite short, not something I usually like but it suited her. Above average height with particularly good legs, she was generally trimmer than I prefer (but that, I thought, will soon be taken care of) and, crucially, she had a very nice pair of tits.

She flinched as if thinking of again pulling back but her urge to be close was too strong to resist and she put her arms around me. She had not finished arguing, though. Even as I ran my hands over her body and she writhed with pleasure and desire, she leant her head against my chest and whispered, "But ... but ... James, I want you, I need you, but ... but ... you're just inviting me to join your harem, aren't you? That's all it is; your own private harem."

I remembered the note she had written me at the garden party. "Tammy, Tammy," I murmured, "I thought you wanted to give me every hole you've got, and then some."

She hugged me even tighter. "Oh, James! You remembered. Yes, yes, that's just what I want. Ever since I first saw you I haven't been able to think about anything else. I've had this feeling, all the time ... I don't know how to describe it, it's just an endless aching lust. It's like my insides are tearing themselves apart. But," she went on, finding from somewhere the resolve to pull away again, "I -- I'm frightened, James. I don't understand what's happening."

With a little forcefulness I could, I knew, have taken her with only token resistance, but I did not want her that way. "Tammy, I'm not going to hurt you," I said soothingly.

"Look," she said, abruptly getting a grip of herself, "I'm no innocent. I fuck around a lot, I know I do. And why shouldn't I? I like it. And more holes is a big fantasy of mine. I mean, there just aren't enough, are there?"

I was taken aback by her sudden crude frankness. "Well," I thought to myself, "you can take the girl out of Essex, but you can't take Essex out of the girl."

"I've been around," she continued. "But I've never heard of anything like this. That's what scares me. You've done something to me, I don't know what, and I don't know how to escape."

"Would you?" I asked. "Escape, I mean. If you could?"

She looked at me with helpless longing but did not reply. I held her tight again, and this time she succumbed totally to my embrace.

"Listen to me, Tammy," I murmured. "That feeling you've had, that yearning need, can you feel it now?"

There was a long pause before her softly whispered "Yes".

"Can you resist it?"

"No." Even softer.

"Do you want to resist it?"

There was a long pause. She knew, or at least some part of her knew, that she was delivering herself up to something that would change her for ever, something unknown and terrifying; but she knew too that she was helpless before it, her destiny no longer hers to command, her fate sealed.

"No," she finally said again. This was so quiet it was almost inaudible, hardly more than a breath of final surrender.

"Then come," I told her gently.

She seemed limp and helpless as I eased her out of her clothes, but she made no attempt to stop me. She lay on the bed and I moved her legs apart to enter her. And I fucked her. Her hesitation and the delay it caused only intensified my desire. Perhaps the effect on her was the same, because as soon as I penetrated her she bucked and writhed like a desperate animal. And of all the girls I had had in the past few weeks, and maybe because of the sexual experience she had boasted of, she was the first to retain sufficient self-possession during sex actually to try to make demands of me: "Oh, fuck!" she cried when I changed angle slightly, "do that again!" So I did, with more vigour, and sent her into the first of what must have been at least six thunderous orgasms before I finally exploded within her and sent her over the brink into oblivion.

Late in the afternoon Wendy came to tell me that Gina had arrived with no fewer than ten other girls, squeezed illegally into a people carrier that was supposed to have a capacity of seven including driver. I hurried to the window where I could see them all, laughing and arguing as they disentangled themselves from the car and each other. It struck me that the girls were either very black, like Gina herself and Sable, or very white like Olga and three -- no, four -- other girls of probably East European origin. I recognised Gina and the six other girls she had introduced me to over the last week or so, but four were new and I asked Wendy to bring these up right away with Gina.

I was naked on the bed when they arrived. "Right girls," Gina announced; "this is Jim, the guy I told you about."

This would not, I knew, be one of the world's toughest seductions, since they were all professional girls under the impression I was stinking rich, but I was looking forward to it nevertheless because I had never dared attempt four girls at once. I hoped my pheromone generation was up to the task.

I need not have worried about that. The problem turned out to be different.

Watched by Gina, and also by Wendy, Fran and Connie who had turned up to enjoy the show, the four girls advanced on me, two black and two white (Gina was nothing if not an equal-opportunities procuress). The blazing lust in their eyes was still financially motivated at this stage, but as they stripped off and clambered over me and kissed and caressed me, their manner subtly changed. Their breathing became deeper and slower, their eyes began to focus on me exclusively, their kisses became longer and more passionate. Which girl was which I neither knew nor cared, as black lips and white jostled for my mouth, while hands, lips, and tongues explored my entire body.

The black girl with the big tits was squeezing them against my face and a stunningly gorgeous East European girl was forcing her tongue down my throat so when the first cunt slid over my giant cock I could not tell whose it was or even which colour. But I thrust away anyway. The moans of pleasure had a guttural African flavour to them, telling me it was the tall, lithe black girl with the enormous thighs and beautifully rounded ass cheeks. The intensity of the experience meant that I could not hold myself back for long; but I was able to make sure that when I came inside this first cunt I kept plenty in reserve.

As the lithe girl -- Precious, I discovered later -- climaxed hugely and passed into oblivion I pushed her roughly to one side and pulled the gorgeous European girl on top of me in her place. Monika -- that was her name -- never knew what hit her. I had no time for any preamble; I simply drove my cock into her and unleashed a huge jet of spunk. Up to this moment her lips had still been clamped to mine but as I exploded she released their hold to let out a loud cry of mingled astonishment and ecstasy, then she too was limp and still and apparently dead to the world.

Two down, two to go. The black girl with the big tits, not in Florence's league, admittedly, but more than a match for Alicia, seemed to know instinctively what was expected of her and she clambered over Precious's recumbent form and came forcefully down on me, her cunt hungrily swallowing my oozing cock. This girl, Mary, a little older than the others, maybe mid-twenties, was a hefty piece of luscious chocolate flesh, her huge bouncing bosoms complemented by meaty hips and thighs and another fine full African ass. I found out later there was a reason for all this bulk; she belonged to a tribe in a remote part of Uganda where large women were favoured, and at fourteen she had been betrothed to a cousin and sent to a fattening hut where she was forced to gorge on rich dairy produce and forbidden to exercise. Basically she lay in bed all day and ate and ate and her grandmother stood over her ready to beat her if she refused. But she dreaded the wedding more and more as it grew nearer, and a week or so before the big day she escaped, stowing away on the back of a lorry that took her to Kampala. There she was penniless and friendless, unable to go home to the family whose honour she had disgraced. It is painful to think what might have become of her but she had the luck to find a menial cleaning job. This took her into a lot of shops and offices where she attracted plenty of male attention and realised that her beauty and now fulsome figure were assets she could use. A businessman whose office she cleaned took a shine to her, bought her presents, and introduced her first to sex and then to the owner of an establishment he frequented, not the grim and filthy hellhole of ordinary African prostitution but an altogether higher-class establishment catering for wealthy businessmen and foreign visitors. Among the latter was an Englishman who told her how much more money she could earn in London. From there it was a simple matter to buy a forged passport giving her age as eighteen and get on a plane to Heathrow.

And here she was, an experienced and accomplished whore and, as I creamed her insides, my newest recruit.

But not for long; I had still managed to hold something back for the final girl, Nina. As I pushed Mary off me and she slid across Monika's body and fell with a thump onto the floor, I found that it was Nina's lips and tongue that had been enthusiastically kissing and licking my bollocks as all this went on. I grabbed her arms and pulled her toward me. She looked left and right at the prone bodies of the other three girls and for an instant confusion and fear flashed across her face as even in her lust-crazed state she realised that something was wrong. "B-but ..." she stammered.

I had no time to still her fears; any second now everything I had left was going to explode from my cock whether I was inside her or not. I let go of her arms and grasped her hips to position her for entry. Panic welled up in her eyes. "No!" she shouted, and struggled to escape. She was slick with sweat and might have got away but Wendy and Connie, who had approached to try to help Mary, saw what was happening and gripped her tight. Gina rushed up and grabbed her too; Fran I noticed made a move toward us but then stopped.

Nina squirmed and struggled but she was held fast by three determined women. "No! No!" she cried again and I had just time to see an awful look of helpless terror in her eyes before I roughly drove my cock deep into her and felt it give an enormous spasm as a great final jet of spunk gushed forth. She let out a huge roar of -- what? Fear, horror, pain? Joy, rapture, ecstasy? It was impossible to say.

As Nina's body went limp I withdrew from her and stumbled off the bed so that Wendy and the others could rest her in the place I had vacated. Gasping for breath, I stood by the bed and looked down at her, suddenly appalled at what I had done.

It was not my first rape; I knew that. I had taken Kylie when she was blissed out and incapable of signifying consent, but that was a technical rape, a lawyer's rape if you like, because I had known full well that when she came round she would not object (in fact she had pronounced it "brill"). But this was different; this was layman's rape. I had taken a terrified girl by force. And three women, among them my wife, had helped me do it.

Connie and Gina did not seem to think that anything remarkable had happened but Fran's gaze met mine and we simply stared at each other in silent dismay. Wendy looked up at me to speak but whatever she was about to say died on her lips as she saw the expression on my face and the answering look on Fran's. Then she too lapsed into silence, biting her lip.

I staggered to a chair and collapsed into it, still gasping for air. My first thought was to damn Albert to hell. But no; the responsibility, I told myself, was not his but mine. I hated myself for what I had done. If someone at that moment had proposed branding the word RAPIST onto my forehead with a hot iron I should have accepted it meekly as the least I deserved; and if a policeman had come into the room I should have given myself up on the spot.

But when the door opened, it was not a policeman that entered. It was Vicky, with a large tray of food and drink. I had no appetite for it but I knew I was exhausted and in need of sustenance so I ate and drank mechanically. As I did, women gathered round me and tried to find words of consolation.

Connie made the first offering, demonstrating that she had at least worked out what the problem was. "She'll be fine about it when she comes round," she said.

"She wasn't fine about it when I did it, was she?" I retorted.

"We did it, darling," urged Wendy. "It wasn't just you. I'm also guilty."

"You are," I agreed, "but I don't see how that's any comfort."

"I know," she said. "You're right. It was just the power of the moment. It seemed to overtake us all."

"Not all of us," I corrected her. "One of us still knows right from wrong."

I looked at Fran. She was clearly upset and confused. "I was going to help hold her," she said, "but something stopped me. I just couldn't. The way she was struggling -- I could see she was so scared."

"You didn't see her eyes," I said bitterly. "I did, and still I carried on."

No one replied. Full of self-loathing, I thought for a bleak moment of asking Vicky whether her father kept a gun in the house, but the idea seemed melodramatic and absurd so I simply sat there eating in miserable silence.