The Seehofer Chronicles Vol. 01

"Hold on, honey," growled the Marlboro man, "keep still until Lawson is ready."

Lawson adopted a semi-squat whilst guiding his feral fuck tool towards Becca's raised honey pot. The sight of Earl's cock embedded in her ass presented a surreal image to the American. He considered that his cock would soon be in intimate contact with his colleague, albeit separated by the supple walls of Becca's vagina and rectum.

Becca lay immobile atop Earl. He was clutching her breasts with his coarse fingers with excessive force, rhythmically kneading the enthralling fresh whilst coaxing her nipples with his finger and thumb as if enticing her to lactate for him. She shared his vision, imagining that he was purposefully drawing fresh milk from her engorged breasts, the spurts of sweet liquor summoned by his skilful hands, issuing from her teats like diluted semen from a spunking cock. She wished her nipples were larger, thick and long like tiny obscene cocks jutting from her pink areolae.

Earl's stimulative work on her nipples was working magic on Becca's cunt. The muscles in her vaginal walls contracted in rhythmical spasms that imparted waves of caressing solace to Earl's cock, twitching in response against the clasping walls of her rectum.

Becca watched Lawson descend towards her, aware of his torso as he stretched his arm to support his weight against the rear of the sofa. She anticipated the tentative prod from the tip of his inflated glans, parting her labia and nuzzling intimately at the entrance to her vagina. When Lawson pushed his cock home, Becca found herself squeezed tightly into Earl's lap. She felt tiny and delightfully vulnerable, sandwiched between the two bulky Americans, her body submissively offered for their contortional, lewd indulgence.

Lawson wedged his cock into Becca's pouting pussy and immediately sensed the tubular stack of Earl's cock tight beneath his own. It was the weirdest thing he had ever encountered sexually; the shape of her vagina had been remodelled and offered a tantalisingly new experience.

Lawson had by far the largest phallus of the group; Becca's analytical mind recalled its appearance whilst it tentatively probed deeper into her. In excess of seven inches in length, his circumcised cock did not possess the plumpest head, for that honour today lay with the resting Mike. Yet the slim helmet agreeably heralded the way for the thick rutted shaft that followed, which now exquisitely enthused the walls of her vagina. The deep sigh that accompanied her impalement was one of genuine satisfaction. Her engorged pussy and stuffed anus had become the centre of her universe.

Nothing else mattered; all of life's varied gambits were purely designed to lead her to this state of human existence and desire. Inconsequential dogma and convention was shot to pieces, her brain craved no more than the fulfilment of its sexual absolution and immoderation.

"Oh Christ, that's so good!" exploded Becca. Lawson smiled, in truth he was in an uncomfortable position but his lust overcame any discomfort.

"Earl is the anchor in your butt, I'll be the only one fucking, okay," Lawson informed Becca.

She nodded through clenched teeth. Lawson slowly began to thrust into her. Her pervious sensation of fullness was supplanted by the kinetic act of fucking. The sensations of diverse and amplified pleasure made her pussy come alive. Even Earl's motionless cock responded to Lawson's thrusts. It shimmied in sympathy with the contortions of Becca's internal organs.

Lawson fucked Becca's pussy for only a few demanding minutes before Mike spoke from the comfort of his armchair. He took a swig of Bourbon from his tumbler.

"Think you'd be better on your back, Law," suggested Mike, watching Lawson's ass rise and fall in time with his thrusts. Lawson was only too happy to accept the suggestion from Mike.

"You okay to change positions, Rebecca?" asked Lawson.

Becca was shaken from her reverie when Lawson withdrew his cock without waiting for a response from the English girl. She was startled by the sense of sudden loss. Becca had temporarily lost the power of coherent speech and finally grunted her consent to his suggestion.

Lawson offered his hand, helping Becca into a sitting position, where she gingerly raised her bottom, freeing her ass reluctantly from Earl's cock. It felt as if she had lost part of her own body; such was the disorientating sense of hopeless emptiness that overwhelmed her fervid mind. Her sole desire was to re-impale her ass and pussy on the cocks she had adopted for her own.

Becca stumbled to her feet; her legs appeared to share the same discordant response to conscious purpose as her mind. Lawson sat next to Earl on the couch and beckoned Becca to join him with a tender smile she had never before witnessed. He held his large cock by the shaft, inviting Becca to spear herself upon its appealing length.

She shook her head in an attempt to straighten her hair and brushed a finger across her cheek, suddenly aware of Mike's dried spunk that adhered to her skin like dried paint after decorating a room. Her left eyelid seemed heavy and she noticed how her eyelashes felt thick with dried cum. It felt similar to the experience of awaking in the morning when she had left her mascara on overnight.

Kneeling aside Lawson's hips, Becca faced the CIA man and lowered her eager pussy on to his beckoning length where it disappeared effortlessly into her sodden fuck hole. She felt it lance deliciously deep into her stretched vagina. There followed a bout of unpretentious fucking with Becca gyrating her ass in time with Lawson's lunges. She accompanied each deep penetration with a grunt of passion, enjoying the primitive pleasure of penetration.

"Oh yes, Lawson! Shag my dirty little cunt, you fucking shit!" Lawson smiled at Becca's use of 'shag'; it sounded so goddamn British and so fucking horny.

Both Mike and Earl watched with admiration the two passionate exponents of coital intercourse demonstrating their physical skill, much as two jocks might appreciate the skill of two athletes performing on the track.

"Hold on, Becky...," implored Lawson. He grimaced beneath her heaving body. "Gotta stop, honey! No way are you going to make me cum yet!"

Becca ignored his pleas and continued selfishly to ride his cock. It was only when Earl stood behind her and grabbed her broad hips that she finally abandoned her assault upon the phallus. She had little time to consider her frustration.

Earl pressed the tip of his cock against her butt hole, now sealed tightly after her solo exploits with Lawson. Earl was refreshingly flabbergasted by the resistance of her sphincter considering the previous intrusion of the butt plug and his cock. It took a few moments of easy pressure before he looked on with grim satisfaction when the plump cock head gained admission.

Maybe Earl might have been troubled had he dwelt upon his instant contentment when his cock seemed to brush Lawson's turgid shaft buried in Becca's cunt and possibly even more disturbed had he known that Lawson shared the emotion. Neither man had transgressed the boundary of handling another man's penis with its implied homosexual connotations. Yet quite what rubbing your cock against another man's whilst admittedly embedded in a beautiful woman constituted, he did not know, nor at that moment, care. It felt fucking hot!

Becca looked adoringly into Lawson's face with its firm lantern jaw and brilliant white teeth. When Earl drove into her squelching asshole, she emitted a low howl of tangled emotions, conveying discomfort, fascination, and perplexity as her brain feverishly tried to reconcile the sensation with previous entries in her memory bank, only to find the file empty.

Lawson read her befuddled expression and felt a mixture of passion and similar curiosity; he wondered how it felt to be infiltrated by a cock and experienced the familiar male heresy of wishing that he too could receive the violation instead of administering it. One day he would allow a woman to fuck his own ass.

It was the empathetic look that Becca picked up upon in Lawson's pale blue eyes. Perhaps she recognised a kindred spirit, someone who allowed his excessive libido to dominate and express itself wantonly without fear of moral self-indignation. Lawson placed his arms around Becca's shoulders and drew her face towards his. She interpreted his intent and momentarily hesitated, resisting his summons.

For many folk, it may have seemed an irrational reaction. For despite offering her body in a professional capacity to men and women with no apparent conscience, Rebecca Seehofer drew an arbitrary line at kissing her marks, or "dates" as she preferred to call them. She may be a professional courtesan for Queen and Country but she was no whore. Well, perhaps the latter contention was a moot point for many.

No, for Becca, kissing was an act of intimacy, which fucking was not. She could indulge in intercourse with someone who she subjectively considered to be an 'ugly fuck' and take the given stimulation and hopeful climax without committing any part of herself that truly mattered.

Kissing was altogether different. For Becca, it implied going beyond the call of duty, in as much she was offering her heart and soul, not merely her body, which God and hard work had made so pleasingly downright fuckable.

Lawson drew her on and their lips met, he moved his head in sync with Becca's, following its trajectory as she was impelled forward by the force of Earl's thrusts. Becca embraced Lawson's ardour and rejoined his passion. She felt his tongue push into her mouth and wrestle with her own, tasting the masculine heady blend of bourbon and tobacco.

She was overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment; the last semblance of cognitive reality was finally abandoned when she embraced erotic totality. Her genitalia were aflame, she literally was being fucked senseless by Earl's spiteful humping of her ass and Lawson's skilfully achieved coordinated assault upon her cunt. Her insides were pummelled by an organic two-piston engine. She swooned light-headedly, grunting for air between Lawson's kisses.

Rebecca Seehofer finally became insensate to the physical admonishments of the Americans. Her mind became one huge sensory receiver, which was becoming overwhelmed by the approach of her second orgasm. Initially, she attempted to repress the subliminal reflex but stood little chance. A flash of fear flitted across her central cortex inspired by the expected intensity of her climax. Becca did not shout, she screamed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...! You bastards! I'm ..."

Becca's head exploded in a flash of blinding white intensity. Her mind orchestrated a sublime symphony of colour and sound, like the crashing waves hurled against the Cornish cliffs during a winter Atlantic storm; her very essence was suffused by the burden of the orgasmic deluge.

Lawson was stunned by the severity of Becca's climax. He lingered deep inside her when he felt the initial onset of his ejaculation. He pulled his cock free of her as soon as he was rent by the seizure of his own orgasm. He ejaculated forcefully against her vulva and felt, or imagined, the powerful jets of spunk pebble-dashing her labia like a New York January blizzard. It was the most discordant ejaculation he had ever experienced; his cock and balls went into spasm, shuddering whilst he emptied the ready supply of semen. Irrevocably, his cock wretched dry.

Becca collapsed incoherently on top of Lawson in post-orgasmic shock and clung onto him. He responded robotically, numbed and satiated to incapacity.

Earl had not been privy to the shared orgasms of his colleague and Becca. He had admittedly been startled by her scream. However, the bawl had empowered the animal within him and he pounded her ass with renewed vigour and determination. He ground his curved cock into her ass at the climax of the compression stroke in a bid to force even more of his tool into her pummelled asshole.

Earl gritted his teeth on the exhaust stroke, refocusing his energy for the next plunge of the cycle. Becca bounced fitfully against Lawson's chest whilst she slowly came to her senses, doubting fleetingly for her sanity. Increasingly, her ass asserted its demands over her brain, emitting powerful messages that enough was enough, what had been pleasure was morphing into pain, from which her rational mind recoiled yet her perverse disposition encouraged with a macabre curiosity to ascertain the limit of exploitation that her body could endure.

CHAPTER 11 -- THREE'S COMPANY.

Friday, 22^nd August 1970.

Central London.

It was a most contradictory situation for Becca Seehofer to find herself in. She reposed contentedly in the post-climatic embrace of Lawson Hackett, who allowed his depleted cock to shrivel and nuzzle teasingly against her sensitive labia.

Lawson's deposited spunk mingled with her secretions, which slipped tantalisingly like melting ice from between her lips. He closed his eyes with a sense of deep satisfaction, as might any devoted husband. Juxtaposed to this sweet image was that of Earl with his scimitar cock deep in Becca's rectum.

Becca Seehofer began to sob under the assault, emitting wails of self-pity whilst Earl attempted to probe deeper inside her. Again, her cries elicited contrary emotions. Lawson guiltily found his cock hardening under her cries of apparent distress and the rhythmical jarring of his flaccid cock.

Earl typically became ever more inflamed with lust. He would have been most disappointed to know that Becca's anguish was only in part due to her physical torment resulting from his malignant desires. Becca cried in pain from the soreness emanating from her despoiled asshole yet also with despair at the acknowledgment of her base needs. How was this experience ever going to be surpassed in her search for sexual fulfilment?

"Lawson, how much longer?" gasped Becca, "I can't take much more...," she implored.

The self-pity evoked by her words cut little slack with Lawson Hackett, his response was immediate. He nudged his swelling cock in the approximate direction of her pussy, wriggled until he found the fissure, and pushed home.

"No, Lawson, please, it's too much," cried Becca in admission of defeat.

Becca possessed a conceited pride concerning her adeptness and passion for lovemaking. Yet never had she been subjected to two large cocks internally assaulting her at the same time with such cohesion. It was not so much the amount of cock flesh she accommodated that caused her sudden angst. It was the sheer daunting physicality of the two large Americans; their corporeal proximity becoming overwhelming and positively claustrophobic as her sexual fatigue set in.

By some arcane form of telepathy, the two men somehow coordinated their efforts to allow them to two-way fuck the young English woman as she lay atop Lawson. She spread her arms in abject submission. Pummelled beyond comprehension, her depraved mind leapt back into the ascendency. Her recessive and priggish sensibilities, which had unfathomably surfaced from somewhere deep within her psyche, were brutally repressed by her impenetrable depraved alter ego, who embraced the bestial munificence of her partners in slime.

Becca had quite forgotten about Mike. Now he abandoned his armchair and drew closer to the debauched scene. He became aware of the fetid aroma of sex, a complex scent of sweat and bodily discharges that overpowered the earlier cigarette fug.

A vague feculent aroma added a subtle undertone to the lascivious perfume. Within the room, there manifested itself the bestial harmonised grunts and moans of the aberrants before him, reminding of the track event he once ran and the escalating verbalised chorus as exhausted athletes wrestled and cursed.

The cocky English girl was lying upon his re-energised boss, her head lying on its side pointing to her right, bouncing in sympathy to the staccato lunges of his colleagues. Mike later believed he experienced an outer body experience, for his next conscious recollection was sitting adjacent to his boss's heaving body with his hand clench around his punishingly hard cock.

The demanding head of Mike's penis was only inches from the girl's mouth, who as yet seemed oblivious to its presence, her eyes drawn tightly shut and her mouth gaping whilst she ferociously snatched at the fusty air. Her slender, arched back tapered gracefully beneath her powerful shoulders to her slim waist and shimmered with perspiration under the harsh ceiling spotlights. His two companion's read his blatant intent and each encouraged his participation.

The sudden arrival of Mike's bulbous phallus in her mouth stirred Becca from her languorous state of sexually induced oblivion; her bizarre intellect had transported her to ancient Greece where her prone body floated on a billowing cumulous cloud. The mighty god Zeus had bayoneted his colossus phallus deep within her ass whilst Apollo's circumspect cock dismissively fucked her cunt surrounded by his engrossed fawning followers.

Becca gagged when Mike's cock blunted crudely against the back of her throat. Had she been prepared then she could have controlled and repressed her gag reflex. Yet as it was, she heaved and wretched against his violating shaft. Mike held her head when she attempted to retreat from his guileless intrusion, forcing Becca to exhale frantically through her nasal cavity with guttural vulgarity. His pubes tickled insanely against her face, his tight hairy scrotum undulating brazenly against her chin.

Lawson quickly intervened and grabbed Mike's hand, wrenching it clear of Becca's head, allowing her to retreat from his impertinent phallus. Mike's bloated cock emerged from Becca's mouth coated in phlegm, a trail of viscous spittle stretched from Becca's mouth to the tip of his cock like a suspension bridge chain before severing to drape from her chin.

Becca gave Mike a fiery look of contempt and offered him a faltering shake of her head in admonishment for his crass act. Her rebuke was short lived for in the next instance she snatched his cock and sunk her lips around the shining, purple helmet. As if to make her point, Becca guided his cock to the back of her throat, this time circumventing her gag reflex. Her head swayed to the triple beat of her continued shafting and she hummed, allowing the inflections of her vibrating vocal chords to assail the soft meat of the glans held deep in her throat.

Mike arched his back at the enchantment of the unique experience and made no efforts to control the bout of oral sex. Becca proceeded to render him a victim of her expert blowjob technique.

With perhaps just sixty seconds of concerted effort, Becca prepared to receive Mike's second orgasm. As a fecund man, Mike's second coming was only a little less yielding than his first. Becca took the first belch of cum on her tongue before she hastily drew back her head to allow the subsequent spunk to spray randomly about her face. By chance, it was again the left hand side of Becca's pretty face that took the full impact. The copious discharge that failed to adhere to her face precipitated gelatinously onto Lawson's left shoulder.

"Shit man...! For fuck sake, give me room...! I'm gonna shoot!" implored the butt-fucking Earl to the obtuse Lawson.

For once, Lawson seemed compliant to another's feelings and slipped out of Becca's tender vagina. With Lawson absent, Earl luxuriated in the pleasure of having her body all to himself. After six or seven blissful solo lunges into the consenting anus, Earl squeezed Becca's arse cheeks and gasped. Gratefully, he unloaded his bucket full of cum deep in Becca's ass, his seed whitewashing the walls of her abused hole.

CHAPTER 12 - WHO'S THE DADDY?