Warning: This is a vintage hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description. Check out the free sample if you can.***********"I've been looking all over the place for you," she scolded. "The next time you need to leave your desk that long, you'd better let me know.""Sorry, Miss Collins."Joan wanted to say something about Jimmy coming to visit while Anita was at work, but knew that any mention of him would give away her secret. She couldn't bear the thought of Anita or anyone else finding out she'd spied on them while they'd done those awful things downstairs.
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Table of Contents
In the dream she was walking on a beach, wearing nothing but the skimpiest bikini. She saw an approaching figure, a tanned muscular male with an armload of books. He was naked, and she could see the white skin of his hips where the sun hadn't browned him. Joan looked at his big, swinging cock. It was like the things she'd seen dangling from horses. Except his cock was white.
"Yes," Joan replied to her dream man.
"I've come to return these books. The library was closed, so I thought I'd just give them to you here."
"But you can't do that," Joan protested.
Suddenly the books had disappeared. As in all dreams, things were happening fast, seemingly without making much sense. The well-tanned male was close to her, putting his arms around her. His huge cock was pointing straight up now, and she grabbed it as if to keep it from touching her. The shaft of his prick almost burned her hand it was so hot. The cockhead pulsed lewdly. The naked beach boy wanted to rub his cock against her naked belly. Looking down, she realized that something had happened to her bikini bottom. She, too, was naked- and the guy was trying to push his cock against her pussy mound.
"No!" Joan screamed, and she came awake.
She moaned, pumping her hips. The sheets had tangled between her thighs and she was rubbing her cunt on the lump of her nightgown. She was coming, and she was too close to stop.
"Uhhhhhh," she panted, her hips lurching as she rolled onto her belly.
Now that she was partly awake, she wanted to regain control of her passions, but the itchy, tingling feeling deep in the slippery folds of her cunt was too pleasurable. She hated herself for enjoying it. She kept pumping her hips anyway. Her hands slipped down to find her damp pussy slit. With trembling fingers, she began to touch herself. Her clit rose against the gentle rolling caress.
"Ohhhhh, damn!" she whimpered, flopping and jerking as she rolled onto her back and drew her knees up.
Her pussy opened, its fleshy folds parting to reveal the dainty pink surface and the glistening opening. Using two fingers, Joan began to finger-fuck. Her cunt muscles contracted suddenly around her knuckles, and she kicked her long legs high in the air.
"Ahhhhh, ahhhhhh!" she cried, coming hard.
As she came, she remembered the last part of her dream. That was what had started her climax. When the beach boy's cock had touched her, it had begun to spurt something white and hot and sticky.
"Cum!" she gasped, her fingers fucking frantically in the dripping heat of her pussy. "Lots of thick, hot cum!"
She was on her back again, her heels pounding the mattress. Her slim hips jerked up and down as she pumped her pussy against her fingers. Her breathing was tight and rapid, and her tits rose and fell as she tried to get more air. Her nipples were hard bumps that seemed charged with electricity. When she touched one nipple, another jolt of pleasure shot through her body.
"Whhuuuhh," she moaned, quivering hard.
She caressed herself a few more times, then pulled her slippery fingers out of her cunt hole and smelled them. She was suddenly overcome with guilt. She'd played with herself, giving herself pleasure. Something a nice girl never did. That was what her mother had always told her, anyhow.
Joan made herself get up and hurry to the bathroom. As she sat on the toilet to piss, she wondered if there was something wrong with her. She was twenty-two years old, without a boyfriend or a husband, and having erotic dreams that disturbed and excited her. She couldn't say that her dream had been normal. She didn't even own a bikini, and she hardly ever went walking on the beach. She didn't know any beach boys, nor did she want to meet any. She had a good job and a nice apartment. There was enough excitement in her life just running the library. Sure, it was a branch library and not all that big, but it was quite a responsibility. When she did need a little recreation, she didn't go to beaches. She went to an art movie or to a play or the symphony.
"It was almost as if that dream belonged to someone else," Joan said to her mirrored reflection.
Her pale-blue eyes were curious, looking back from a cute oval face. Her short, light-brown hair curled behind her delicate ears and lay in wisps at the nape of her long graceful neck. Her good looks frightened her in a way she'd never been able to explain. Beauty had a way of inviting trouble, she often thought. People looked at her. Men looked at her.
Joan turned on the shower and let the water stream hot and hard against her shoulders. She could still feel her cunt convulsing every so often. The spasms of pleasure had been powerful, too powerful to control. Yet Joan liked control. She wanted her life to be in control. She just wanted to be able to predict what would happen to her from day to day. That dream had been frightening because it had been unpredictable and out of character for her. She could still remember the way the beach boy's big cock had looked. So thick and white, and so stiff!
"Cock," Joan said aloud, enjoying the echo of her words in the tiled shower. "Big, white cock."
Again, she felt ashamed. She grabbed the soap and lathered her shoulders, rubbing her shaven armpits and her tits, spreading the lather down between her thighs. As she soaped her cunt slit, that hungry feeling returned. Joan realized that if she kept fooling with her pussy, she would probably come again. Quickly, she took her fingers out of her cunt and turned the hot water off. The cold spray was a self-inflicted punishment, and she felt the heat of passion drained away as she shivered. At last she could take no more and jumped from the shower and wrapped a towel around her long, lanky body.
Thirty minutes later, Joan was ready to go to work. She had on a plain pleated skirt, a white silk blouse and a tweed business jacket. Her low-cut shoes were pretty but no-nonsense. She had added only a tiny bit of lipstick and the faintest smear of eye shadow. She put on her glasses and picked up her briefcase. No more foolish dreams. It was time to return to the real world.
Joan should have known it was going to be one-of-those-days when she parked her four-year-old Volkswagen in the space provided for her and headed for the door of the library. Anita's car was nowhere in the lot. Anita had been hired as her assistant by the main library and it was her job to arrive early and turn on the computers. Out of five mornings, Anita had been late for four of them.
Joan used her own key and turned on the lights. With the computer screens lit up and the coffee machine heating, Joan checked some papers on her desk. It was ten after when she heard the quick shuffle of her new assistant.
"Sorry I'm late," Anita blurted, "but I didn't sleep much last night." She gave Joan a big grin. "Got a new boyfriend."
When Joan had recovered from the momentary shock, she frowned. "Boyfriends aren't accepted as excuses for being late to work."
Anita patted her long blonde hair and gave Joan an apologetic look. "I know. But this guy just couldn't get enough." Anita bit her lip. "Actually, I couldn't either. He's really gorgeous and he's a terrific lay and... "
"Anita, I find it very distracting to hear the details of your personal life," Joan snapped. "I don't think that this is the time or place for you to go on about what happened in your bedroom last night."
"It didn't all happen in the bedroom. We were on the couch first." Anita giggled. "Jimmy didn't want to bother getting up once we'd started licking... "
Anita sat down at her computer and keyed the memory to print out all overdue notices for that day. Joan watched her, thinking how strange it was that they were so close together in age, yet so different in manner. Anita had just turned twenty, but to Joan she seemed juvenile. Even a little delinquent. Her attitude about sex was so off-handed that Joan wondered how the pretty blonde had kept from getting pregnant. Anita seemed the sort of woman who scratched whatever itch she might have, anytime she had it. Joan thought she might be a nymphomaniac.
"Hmmmm, this looks like an interesting title," Anita said, squinting at the computer screen. "Aboriginal Sex."
"It's overdue?" Joan asked.
"Yeah, somebody's getting a cheap thrill. Wonder if it has any pictures. I'll bet some of those bushmen have big... "
"Anita, for god's sake! What if someone heard you?"
"There's nobody around but that old lady who just came in. She's looking at murder mysteries, wouldn't you know." For a while, Anita worked quietly, keying the envelopes to be printed and making sure everything was feeding correctly.
"Don't you ever think of cocks?" Anita asked suddenly.
Joan turned but could hardly look into the girl's green eyes.
"Yeah," Anita laughed. "Those big, hot things that hang from a man's crotch. You must think of them sometimes."
"No. I don't.' Joan knew she was blushing. She turned to the papers on her desk again but couldn't bring them into focus. "You're really pretty," Anita went on. "Surely some guy has hit on you."
"Hit on me?"
"Made a pass. Tried to grab you. Tried to get into your pants."
"Anita, I'm not enjoying this conversation."
Anita got up and came to stand beside Joan. Her faded denims fit her body snugly and her big, soft tits pushed out her green sweater. Joan could even see her nipples and realized that the girl wore no bra. Anita stopped chewing her gum.
"Maybe you don't like men."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Anita began to chew her gum again. "Nothing at all."
She went back to her computer, her rounded ass swaying. When Joan was breathing regularly again, she got up from her desk and hurried to the restroom. She took off her glasses and patted cold water on her cheeks. She was flushed and dizzy and her panties were damp with cunt juice. She was confused and upset.
When Joan returned to her desk, Anita was gone. The printer had reached the end of its cycle and shut off and, though Joan could have keyed in the next command, she didn't. That was Anita's job, and the girl had to learn some responsibility. Joan went to look in the upstairs stacks first and then hurried down to the basement to see if her assistant was taking a break there.
"Where did she go?" Joan growled, beginning to get angry now.
The only place left would be one of the microfilm viewing- rooms. They were small cubicles at the north end of the lower level, each with its own door. Joan found the first two empty and had just entered the third when she heard Anita's voice. The girl was in the cubicle adjoining the one Joan was in-and she wasn't alone. A muted conversation came through the small air vent above Joan's head. Joan frowned. The booths were barely large enough for one person, much less two. Why would Anita be inside the next cubicle with another person?
"Ohhhhh!" came a sigh. "Do that again, Jimmy."
Joan would have left the booth she was in and yanked open the door of the next one, but something stopped her. She told herself that it was her duty to know what was going on before she acted. Satisfied that this was reason enough to eavesdrop, she climbed up onto the chair and pressed her face against the grate. What she saw made her close her eyes and take a deep breath. She was trembling, shocked by what she'd seen. But she managed to open her eyes again and peer through the narrow louvers.
Anita was sitting on the projector table. She was naked from the waist down, her jeans and panties draped neatly over the chair back. A young man with dark hair and a gray sweater was on his knees in front of Anita. Anita was perched forward on the table so that the young man could put his mouth against her cunt.
He was licking her cunt.
He was doing it slowly as if he enjoyed it. Anita was certainly enjoying it. Her head was thrown back, and her eyes were closed. She was licking her lips slowly, letting her pink tongue slide back and forth across her wide mouth. A slurping sound came from her cunt as the young man wallowed his mouth deeper into her glistening pink pussy folds.
"Oh, goddamn, that's good! Ohhhh, Jimmy, you're really the best!"
Joan squeezed her thighs together and felt her cunt juices ooze out into the crotch-band of her panties. Her nipples had gotten firm and hot under the cups of her bra. She was panting quietly and her heart pounded. She couldn't allow this to continue. Not in her library! Not with her own assistant! It was the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen. But when she'd regained a little composure, she put her eyes to the grate again.
"You suck me," Jimmy whispered, standing up.
He undid his belt and opened his jeans. Anita went to her knees before him and grabbed his briefs at the waistband. Gently, she tugged them down until Jimmy's cock sprang up big and hard and stiff. Joan had to stifle a sigh when she saw how big his prick was. She'd never seen a man naked before, never seen what an erect cock looked like. Joan swallowed hard, remembering the oversized cock she'd dreamed about. Jimmy's swollen prick was at least as big. Anita squeezed the youth's cock with both hands.
"Oh, Christ! What a hunk of meat!"
"It's all yours," Jimmy panted, rocking his hips.
"You almost choked me last night," Anita sighed, petting the cockhead with her fingertips. "So I'm gonna tease you first. Make sure you'll behave."
"Hurry up, Anita! I'm about to come, just thinking of your tongue."
Anita let her pink tongue slide forward under the plump lobes of Jimmy's prick-tip as she forced his foreskin back. Joan saw the glistening flesh of his cock-knob exposed, saw Anita's tongue licking the surface.
"Ohhhh, yeah," Jimmy groaned, trying to grab Anita's head.
But the girl shook him off and kept licking slowly. The pulsing prickhead swelled larger. Then Anita formed her lips into a plush O and slid them over Jimmy's cocktip. He growled with pleasure.
"Suck it good, Anita!"
There was a soft, wet sound as her lips slid forward and back on the boy's cockshaft. Spit leaked down Anita's chin. Her tongue wallowed hungrily against the hard, hot cockmeat in her mouth.
Joan pressed her thighs tightly together and rocked her hips. The lips of her pussy rubbed against each other and caressed her clit. She felt the tiny pink bead grow thicker and longer and push out from its fleshy hood. Joan sighed, wishing she could make herself get down off the chair and go jerk open the door of the next cubicle. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from that air vent.
Anita was moving forward and back rhythmically now, her soft full lips riding over the bumps of Jimmy's cock. Whenever she pulled back, there was a sucking sound and her throat worked as she nursed the hard cockmeat. Joan could hardly believe the girl could take so much cock so deep. It had to be going into her throat.
Anita moaned, gagging. Then she pulled her mouth free of him.
"Sorry," Jimmy said. "I got carried away."
"If you don't force it, I can take it pretty deep. Just let me do it."
"Hard to keep still." - "Yeah, I know. You poor darling. You want to fill my mouth with your yummy cream, don't you?"
"I sure do."
"Maybe I want you to screw me first," Anita teased. "While you're nice and hard."
"You could get me hard again, after I come in your mouth."
"I don't have time to get you hard again," Anita protested. "Miss Prude has probably missed me already. She'll be looking for me pretty soon."
Jimmy laughed. "You know what your boss needs? A good stiff cock."
Joan bit her lip. She certainly didn't need a good stiff cock! She needed... well, she wasn't sure what she needed, but that egotistical young stud didn't know, either. She peeked through the vent again as Anita held Jimmy's cock straight up like a lollipop and began to lap at his cocktip again.
"Jesus! If you keep doing that, I'm gonna shoot!"
"Well, we don't have time to fuck, anyway. So give me your handkerchief, and I'll keep licking."
"Damn," Jimmy groaned, jerking his hanky out and tossing it at Anita. "Ohhhhh, god-damn!"
Anita wrapped the red bandana around her boyfriend's cockshaft and sucked his cockhead between her lips She mauled the tender, swollen prick-knob with her teeth and tongue, her spit dripping steadily from her chin now. Joan could hardly bear to watch. Her cunt ached with need, making her feel more guilty than ever. She had a maddening desire to touch herself, to rub her swollen cuntlips, to gouge between the tender lips of her pussy and find her clit.
"Why don't they stop before something terrible happens?" she breathed to herself.
Anita's head turned and bobbed as she licked, a bit and sucked the head of Jimmy's swollen cock. She wasn't taking his cock deep now, just working on his tender cocktip. Saliva ran down over her fingers as she jacked on his prick.
"Ohhhh, baby, here it comes! Ohhhh, shit, it's gonna be a load, too!"
Joan thought of looking away or leaving the booth and hurrying back upstairs. But she didn't move. Instead, she slipped a hand down under her prim skirt and touched the wet crotch-band of her panties. Her pussy juices had soaked the sheer silk and her own musky scent wafted up to her nostrils. She caressed the plump lips of her pussy. Then, with a soft moan, she pushed a finger under the elastic and dug frantically between her slippery cunt folds. Her back arched as she petted her pussy. A slippery, slushy sound mingled with her heavy breathing.
"Ohhhh!" Joan whimpered. "He's going to come in her mouth!"
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