SOVIET SADIST'S SLAVE free porn video

SOVIET SADIST'S SLAVE (Not of my authorship, author unknown)

FOREWORD

Ursula moaned and arched her back harder.

Tamara sucked the bold burnished nubbins of her glowing tits and fingered her cunt hole with relish. She pressed her thumb against the girl's distended clit and sank all four fingers into her writhing pussy slit.

Her pussy muscles obliged with only a bit of resistance.

Obviously, the girl had taken a good sized dick recently. Or she was quite used to taking big cock without complaining.

"Oh, yeah," the hot and horny Ursula moaned, "do that to me. I love it."

Tamara didn't need a lot of encouragement... just a beautiful willing girl writhing naked beneath her could make her lesbian heart flutter.

"Now I'm gonna vibrate my hand inside your pussy, so relax," she commanded.

Ursula, half out of her wits with passion, went along with it. She felt the girl's expert fingers shudder and shake inside her cunt.








CHAPTER ONE

"Owwwwww!!!!!!" came the craven cry of the young girl as she felt the hot hard pumping engine of her boyfriend's eight inch dick stab the depths of her cunt.

"Am I hurting you?" he said with an edge of hopeful glee in his voice.

Rob DeLucca had been told he had a big one, and his girlfriend was proving his fondest wish true. She was wiggling like a worm on a hook.

Wiggling like a belly dancer on methadrine.

He sank his wick into her again and felt her hot tight cunt clasp him in its rubbery wet clutches. The girl had a tight pussy, too, and that helped.

"Owwwwwww!!!!!" Penny Entwhistle called again from the depths of the mattress. Rob was pinning her into the fucking goose down with every thrust.

"You want me to stop?"

Crazily, Penny shook her head. In a pig's eye she wanted him to stop. Her cunt was just starting to heat up now. She wound her ass around in hot, erotic circles and took him to the depths of her pussy.

Rob cranked his disk up and let her have a short, stabbing series of fucking thrusts that sent her clawing for the headboard.

"Whooppeeee!!!!!" he cried as he rode the girl's cunt with his mighty wang. In and out and out and in, he fucked her.

He fucked her with wild abandon.

The girl took his cock to the hilt and splayed her legs out hungrily for more. It wasn't that he was hurting her, but she had learned a few things in college.

One of them was to let the male think he was pre-dominant in any given sexual situation.

The other was to give into him in the first place.

She hadn't known Rob all that long. He'd carried her bags up to her room from the hotel lobby only an hour ago. But he was cute.

Probably from a good family, too, judging from the cut of his circumcision. Probably not the horsie set, though. Not a guy working as a bellboy in the Hewitt Regency Hotel. But a good fuck!

Yes, Rob was a good fuck.

She was halfway sorry she was leaving for Paris tomorrow, even if it meant a summer on the continent. Daddy had promised her if she was very good and kept her cunt in her panties and came home with a passing grade in at least one subject, he'd spring for the trip.

Dear, sweet Daddy.

"Fucking Christ!!!!" Penny hollered as she twisted her hips hard and felt the stab of Rob's big tawny meat stick sever her pussy flesh.

Rob grinned and did it again.

He banged the girl till she and he were wringing with sweat. But there was no end in sight. Each seemed to be trying to outfuck the other.

Neither of them would give in and come yet.

Both held out as long as they could.

And so, it had turned into a marathon fuck.

The kind of fuck that Penny had missed at school. Maybe she SHOULD have gone out and worked in the real world first like her mother wanted her to do.

Maybe she should have worked as a maid at the Hewitt Regency...

Think of all the good balling she had missed.

"God, your pussy is glorious!" the smiling dude said as he crammed his hard wick into her honey pot again and again and stirred it around.

"So's my mouth," Penny declared and slid her hips along the bed till she felt Rob's big dick tickle the tip of her womb.

"You sold me," he said and popped his rod out of her slit.

The thing came up like some slimy specimen of marine life pulled fresh and wiggling from the sea. Penny admired it. But only for a moment.

It was tawny and full and very hard. And wet.

Wet from the hot, teenage juices of her superbly squeezable pussy.

She looked at the hairpin slit in the glans. It was full of clear liquid and it kept on oozing even after she held it between her hands and examined it.

She roamed her eye over the rounded beet red head and examined the corona.

"You looking for structural faults?" Rob said, hands on his hips.

"Naw, I'm looking to see what's the best approach to suck you."

"Why not just shove it down your mouth and hold it there?"

"Hmmmmm," she said, as though toying with the idea. She looked at the huge purple and throbbing vein that ran the full length of his shaft.

She could take the guy's pulse by it.

"I love this," she said, diddling his glans with the soft pads of her fingertips.

"I'd love your mouth better."

Penny winked and scrambled up on all fours! She fisted the guy's pulsating prick and aimed his head toward her mouth opening.

She made an "O" with her lips and sank the thing into her mouth hole.

It tasted splendid. She sucked the head back hard between her cheeks and held it there a moment. As many cocks as she'd sucked at Balfour U. that last year, she never got over how perfectly they fit in her mouth.

It was as if cocks had been sculpted just to fit down her throat.

Or maybe vice versa.

Maybe her throat had been outfitted to handle a cock... all cocks, she hoped. Well, she hadn't met one yet that she didn't like.

Or didn't fit down her mouth. Penny Entwhistle was the perfect little cocksucker, and she loved to keep ahead of the pack. She had blown some of the finest, hardest, hottest dicks on campus, and she was a noted authority in her field.

"I like that," Rob said, returning the compliment.

He felt his balls go crazy with the sensations of having his dick licked. The girl had an agile tongue, too. Just the way he liked them.

Hot, wet, and surly.

The thing coiled around his shaft and squeezed it like a python.

He felt a thick strand of pre-cum bubble out his slit.

He felt his ball's shudder with untold delights.

The girl was plainly a nympho.

That was fine with him.

All he'd done was bring her bags up to her mom and ask her where she was headed. She asked him to sit down a minute, and since he was nearly off duty, he accepted.

The rest happened kind of fast.

First, there was her blouse. He didn't remember taking it off. She must have. But he remembered the set of knockers that spilled out of it.

What an eye-popping pair of jugs!

They were big and pert and tight, but pear-shaped with lovely rose nipples. What was it about tits shaped like fruit that made him want to eat them?

He had sucked her nipples real hard, raising the grain on her nubbins to a rippling rubber. Then, she wiggled out of her skirt and flashed him her box.

Penny was a natural blonde, and her cunt hair was especially light.

He wouldn't need a flashlight to find THAT clit.

Her ash blonde pussy hair was translucent and downy and ample, but so light he could get a clear view of her puffy pink inner cunt lips before she even pulled her outer lips apart.

She did, anyway.

And he licked them. She laid back on the bed without even taking her garter belt and nylons off and spread her pussy lips for him to lick her clit.

He sucked that thing to an engorged bulb.

He ran his tongue over every pore of it and found new and exciting ways to jab it.

The girl went nuts and bounced all over the bed, even falling down onto the carpeted floor. That must have been how he ended up on top of her.

And that gave her free rein to unzip his pants and haul his cock out.

"Wow!" she said, inspecting it in its partly-flaccid stage. It wasn't fully deflated, because no cock could stay that way around a chick like this for long.

It started to plump and pulsate the moment she handled it.

And she was quite well-versed at handling cock.

He noticed that about her right off.

She knew how to really lay her hands on a guy's joint... and on his balls.

None of your fairy hand passes. Oh, no. She skipped the feather light stuff and got right to rubbing, massaging and kneading.

She worked his balls around like they were bread dough, but gently. Gently like she'd done this sort of thing a lot before.

She wasn't a hooker. Hookers didn't carry bags. But she was a doll.

And a loose doll at that.

One with a real live cunt.

A fucking doll.

"Sheeeiiitttt!!!!" Rob called as the girl twisted her mouth around him like the lid on a Mason jar. She tightened her mouth around him in corkscrew fashion.

Nobody ever sucked his cock like that before... and he'd had a few.

For a moment there, he felt loose enough to ask her if she wouldn't mind showing HIS girlfriend how to do that, but he kept it buttoned up.

No point in antagonizing a good thing.

The girl sucked his wick head far back into her throat and pumped it good and hot and hard and furious. She tossed her head around and really got into it.

Christ! Rob thought to himself.

She really LIKES this!!!

Penny felt the hard boner of the bellboy's cock dig into her mouth. She planted it firmly down into her gullet and squeezed her muscles around it.

She kept her hands wrapped around the engorged base of his stick and made a few passes at his balls from time to time.

She massaged the thick corrugated hide of his sac and pulled his scrotum down in playful caresses. She deep-throated his cock.

"Oh, Christ!" he said, and he watched the bulge in her throat where he knew for damn sure his dick was distorting the line of her neck.

So that's what it feels like to be deep-throated, he told himself.

So that's what it is to have your dick buried in a chick's throat.

He loved it.

The cozy hot feeling of having those wet, tight muscles wrapped around your dick squeezing it hard and making it juice like a river...

That was hot!

Penny stroked her throat where the big bulge of Rob's quivering cock lay hid. Rob went into spasms of sheer delight. So did she.

Penny Entwhistle loved to suck a good hard big and willing slice of dick meat.

And she'd had tons of experience.

***

Down the hail of the Hewitt Regency, another scene was playing out.

It involved a girl and her boyfriend in a rather amorous position. He was lying on the double bed in the center of the suite.

And she was lying on top of him.

"Oh, yeah," he said, with true appreciation. "God, that feels good."

The girl bounced her nubile hips up and down and flung her thick black hair over her shoulders. She stuck her ivory mounds out into his face.

He grabbed the ripe raspberry nipple of one of them and sucked it hard.

"I thought that would shut you up."

Ursula Laker was used to having things her way. She had her boyfriend, whom it was agreed would become her fiance in the fall, wrapped around her little clit.

Tyson Williamson, the third.

He made a splendid lover. It didn't hurt that he was one of the wealthiest young men on the campus of Balfour University either.

He had showered her with presents and compliments from the first week they met. And he never stopped lavishing his attention on her.

"Mmmmmmm," he moaned, amorously tugging at her thick juicy nipple as she rode up and down atop his burgeoning fuck stick.

"You like that, don't you?" she said in her teasing voice.

He loved it when she teased him.

He loved to be tantalized by a beauteous young female like this one, especially since she always put out and backed her tease up with action.

If she hadn't, he might have well wrung her neck.

Tyson Williamson, the third wasn't exactly Mr. Milquetoast. He was all-state wrestling champion and built like a stone fence.

His dick was hard and thick, and though not the longest one that Ursula had ever encountered, it was by far and away the widest. The first time she fucked him, his dork damned near split her pussy lips in two. Five times and five different positions were tried, but this was the best.

Anyway, Ursula liked to be on top.

She slammed her knees down into the bed and lifted her hips up, sliding well enough off Tyson's thick ramrod to reveal it to the light. It glistened with its double coats of cunt paint and cock lacquer. It looked especially full and shone a beautiful color of crimson.

It made a superb contrast to Ursula's shrimp pink cunt and dark shiny pussy hair. Ursula was especially proud of her cunt hair.

She even shampooed it. She loved to brush it under the lamplight while her fiance stroked his dick and looked on in admiration.

It was her every desire to convince Tyson Williamson, the third that he had indeed picked the freshman queen of Balfour University as his intended.

She led him around by the scent of her pussy.

And he followed, gladly.

Ursula twisted around and grabbed her boyfriend's hot, trembling balls. They were like two coconuts. Average length dick or not, his balls were the beefiest she had ever encountered.

And who the hell cared how long it was if it was this fucking wide. Christ, it was as thick as her wrist was... flaccid.

"There," she said and slid her curvaceous hips back down over his throbbing member and fucked it till it vibrated like a tuning fork.

Up and down, she rode his stick.

Back and forth.

In and out.

Hotter, wetter, faster, harder...

In and out.

The bulge of his man prick shone like a luminescent fist as it jutted out from his muscular, rippling washboard stomach.

Ursula sailed down on it again and pounded her thighs into his.

"MMmmmm!!!!!" Tyson moaned as he mouthed her nipple.

"Harder!!!!" Ursula sang out and stuffed her tits full in his face.

His cock ablaze with desire, Tyson grabbed both of his girlfriend's nipples and stuffed them into his mouth. He had to bite on them a bit to keep them anchored inside, but that seemed to get him off.

He'd never known a girl like her... so a****l and sensual.

And best of all... she couldn't get enough sex.

That suited him fine. If only his wang could hold out for a few more minutes... long enough to get her off. Ursula always took a long time to come.

The girl atop him gripped her nails into his shoulders and wore herself out on top of his stick. She pumped her hips up and down and flung them sideways.

She whirled them around in circles and pumped some more.

She set her bare feet up on his muscular chest and strummed her bulging clit as she let him fuck her to a screaming, orgiastic climax.

In and out.

Up and down.

Harder and faster. Deeper and longer.

Hotter and wetter.

Until...

"Ooooooooh!" she began to wail. It was the sign he had been waiting for.

At last, Ursula was coming.

She ran her fingers up and down the full length of her ruffled pink cuntal lips as fast as the speed of light. She moaned louder.

"Yeah, oh, yeah!!!!" Tyson grunted as he, too, felt his balls pump their load of man spunk into his peckerwood chute.

He couldn't have held his juice back longer if his cock had reins. He heaved his up once, then brought them down and felt the slit of his glans split wide.

A blast of man come shot out his prick and shot his girlfriend full in the cunt.

She fielded the blast beautifully and tossed back one of her own.

"Oh, God!!!!!" she cried, as though the two of them were in a soundproof room in the middle of an island. Her voice rocked the rafters.

She spun into a tumbling spiral of mind-shattering climax.

She gripped Tyson's shoulders with her fingernails. Her body shook all over.

She came like a truck barreling down a hill.

Tyson hung on and felt his stomach muscles contract, into one... two... three hard jets of creamy white come that washed into his girlfriend's womb.

The two of them came in a wild display of hip rolling and teeth gnashing and head tossing. Where one of their orgasms stopped and the other one began, no onlooker could possibly say.

"Wow!" Ursula said as she wiggled her hot hips off the still rock hard pecker of her boyfriend's thick stick. "That really blew me away."

Tyson smiled.

He hadn't yet found the kind of action that could blow his girlfriend away. She was probably a nympho. But that was fine with him.

As long as he and she could go on looking together.

Ursula picked up a cigarette and lit it. She was much too young to smoke, and Tyson, being an athlete, really didn't approve.

But she was nervous.

It was her first trans-Atlantic flight tomorrow.

"I'll miss you, sweetheart," she said, toying with a thick tendril of his chestnut hair. "I'm really glad you could spend this last night with me."

It wasn't a problem since Tyson's father owned a rather large chemical plant in New Jersey and he had his own car and the money necessary to keep it filled with gasoline. "Do you really have to go?"

"I don't REALLY, you know. But it's worth eight college credits. Just touring the churches of France and writing a paper on it counts as one class! It'll mean I can graduate that much sooner and we can be married."

Tyson liked the sound of that, even if he didn't like his girlfriend traipsing off to Europe for the summer without him.

"Don't you dare fuck with any other guys when you're over there. You hear me?" He grabbed her gorgeous raven-haired head in a mock wrestling hold and hugged her close.

"You don't have to worry," she replied through constricted vocal chords, "all those Frenchmen are gay. I've seen them swish around in the movies."

"Just be sure you don't," he said as a final warning.

He meant it, too. Tyson Williamson most definitely did not want his girlfriend and future fiance messing around on the continent.

With faggots or anybody else.

"Besides," Ursula said, sticking her finger inside her cunt and scooping out some of the delicious cream that Tyson had just shot in there, "who'd want to make it with anybody else after you? Whose come tastes this good?"

Just to prove her point, Ursula sucked her fingers lewdly and loud.

Tyson laughed and sat back while she cleaned his dick with her tongue.

She was the hottest chick he'd ever known. And if she kept it in her pants all over France, he'd marry her. If not, he'd tear her fucking face off.

***

Tamara St. Onge sat in her room of the Hewitt Regency and stared out the window.

Paris...

The idea was not without its charm. She longed to see the city ever since her mother and she had left it when Tamara was a small girl.

A college tour package wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but money was short on account of tuition, and the air fare was offered at a greatly reduced rate.

Anyway, she would be going home.

Only a few of her relatives survived over there, and she wanted to see them before they had all gone the way of all flesh.

Besides, a college tour full of girls looking at statues and paintings and taking notes was something she figured she could easily ditch.

Then, she would be off to explore Paris on her own.

Who knew what kind of trouble she might get into?

But then, surely whatever happened couldn't surpass the trouble she had already been into. Tamara St. Onge was raised in a brothel.

Two brothels, actually, if you count the one in Paris. The one in Philadelphia was where she had spent most of her formative years.

Before going to Balfour University to study art. Her mother, the brothel Madam, loved the idea of sending her daughter to a prestige school... and sending her to Europe for the summer.

But now, her mother was dead.

What money she had accumulated had gone pretty fast since she hadn't bothered to invest it. Rather, she had lived the way so many people from the old country had done. She hoarded it in a shoe box in the back of her closet.

Tamara raked her hand through her carrot red hair and stood up. Anyone looking in the window would have seen an incredibly statuesque girl with the tits of a topless dancer and the hips of a calendar girl.

Tamara ambled toward the bathroom and threw off her negligee. She grabbed a huge bar of soap from her vanity case and stepped into the shower.

She lathered her huge boobs up with the soap and spread her legs. She worked the hard, elongated bar in between her pussy lips and stroked her clit.

She had no boyfriend to bring her to New York and see her off to the plane... no bellboy from the lobby had followed her into her room with his tongue hanging out... though if one had, she might have gotten rid of him.

Tamara St. Onge was not particularly interested in men. Perhaps because she had had so many of them as a young girl. She much preferred women.

Or a good hard bar of soap.

"Oooooh," she said, surprised that her clit was that sensitive all of a sudden. Well, she hadn't touched herself for a few days.

That might explain it.

She rubbed the rounded hard bar against her bulging clitoris and felt the glow radiate back to her asshole. She fingered her pussy hotly.

The warm water washed over the splendidly rounded mounds of her huge boobies and flowed down in rivulets to her cunt and asshole.

She leaned over, facing the shower spray, and caught a jet of water up her ass valley. And at the same time, she worked the bar in between her flamingo pink pussy lips.

It was a wide bar of soap, but her pussy was unusually elastic.

It was elastic from all the things various customers of her mother's had rammed up it since she was a c***d... cocks and fists and dildos, for starters.

But that was nothing Tamara hadn't learned to handle.

Her mother had trained her well.

Her mother had trained her as a submissive, and she was expert at it.

"Mmmmmmmm," she said as she screwed the hot handle of the soap bar around in her clutching cunt hole. The muscles spasmed as she worked the bar around.

Her muscles clasping the bar, she released her hands and went to work on her asshole and her throbbing clitoris. Now that her fingers were all soapy, she could easily slide one up the tight rosy sphincter of her nubile vortex.

She worked one up and pumped it gently.

That usually made her moan. She moaned softly and diddled her clit button. The thing responded like a well-oiled machine.

She rolled her clit around in her fingers and twisted her hips to get the full benefits of that big juicy bar of soap crammed up her snatch.

Around and around, she rolled her clit.

In and out, she stuffed her forefinger.

Back and forth, she twisted the soap bar with her talented twat muscles.

She leaned one shoulder against the wall and squeezed her clit. She rolled it around like a marble in a sea of hot oil.

She pumped her forefinger in and out of her asshole. The sphincter clutched at it at first, then stretched a bit as she added a second finger.

Harder and more urgently, she pumped her fingers in and out of her bung hole.

She felt the tacky walls of her poop chute. She fucked her ass harder.

Twirling her fingers around like magic, she strummed her clit until it sizzled. She pinched it and made it glow with agonized pleasure. She rubbed against her pussy walls. She stuffed the soap inside her cunt.

So adept were her pussy muscles at this type of action, she could roll the thing around inside her as though it were a cock.

But to her, it was better than a cock since no man was attached to it. She smiled at that thought and dug her fingers harder into her bung hole.

Ass action was about all Tamara ever really craved from a man anymore. But it was difficult to find one who liked to ball you up the back door while you ate your girlfriend's cunt out.

And besides, it was difficult to find a college girl that sophisticated.

Take the girls on this tour.

Bimbos, most of them, at least as far as she could make out. Typical co-eds whose Dads had sprung for the trip as a way of rewarding them for passing that year.

Most of them were staying right here at the Hewitt Regency, so that they could leave, for Kennedy Airport in the morning... and land in Paris twelve hours later.

It was exciting.

So was getting herself off.

Tamara was glad she didn't need anybody for this task.

She really preferred to do it alone... or with another willing young woman. She had heard Paris was full of young lesbians... some extremely beautiful.

She had never cared for the bull dyke type with her short haircut who ran around in gym shorts all the time and had no boobies.

She liked full figured girls... especially in the sack.

Nobody who'd ever seen her walk around campus could deny that she was a full figured girl. She had many admirers. But she was aloof.

Most of the students at Balfour U. knew that.

She was aloof and she lived alone.

So she was the mystery lady of Balfour U.

The dragon lady on campus.

It was a reputation she encouraged at every point. She would rather be thought of as just plain eccentric than to have anyone know what her real background was.

Imagine if her professors knew she was a trained submissive! They'd probably want to take lessons. Most of them were a bit mousey anyway.

She could teach THEM a thing or two. But she didn't. She kept to herself and made few friends and got herself off whenever necessary. And, most especially, she tried not to trick.

It was difficult, because the money was easy.

But it was dangerous.

It was dangerous because it was i*****l. But it was dangerous for another reason... a reason Tamara knew, but didn't discuss with anyone.

Not even her mother before she died.

The truth was... she liked it. She liked it all.

Getting tied up.

Getting strung up by her ankles.

Getting bound and gagged.

Whipped and chained.

Tortured and beaten.

She knew how to handle it, and she always got off. But it was a different kind of get off than the one she was giving herself here in the shower.

It wasn't a superficial release of tension or sexual horniness... no... it was the genuine article. It was a deep, internal sort of get-off.

An apocalyptic get off.

"Oooooo," she said and fingered the bulging rosebud of her glorious clit faster and faster. Just thinking about ropes was making her pussy spasm.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she whispered as she pumped three fingers in and out of the hot tiny confines of her snug little poop chute.

The bar of soap did its work on command as she moved her hips around in wide angled circles like a crazed hula hoop champion.

On cue, she began the long slow climb to climax.

She tossed her wet red mane back and came like a motherfucker. The soap shot out of her cunt and hit the wall, then landed in the tub.

Such well trained pussy muscles, she thought, watching the spectacle.

Her nipples were burnished thimbles of rippling flesh.

Her ass sphincter danced in and out as she fucked herself with her fingers.

Her clit pulsated like a hot rock in an earthquake.

"Oh, yeah!!!!!!!!"

And that did it. She got off nicely. Not her favorite way to fly, but it would do until something better came along... something like a rich, good-looking nymphomaniac who owned a torture chamber.

Tamara stepped out of the tub and dried off her glorious, golden body with a rich fluffy towel. She set heir alarm for five o'clock in the morning and fell into bed.

It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and she wanted a running start at it.

Maybe she'd take an early morning shower...

CHAPTER TWO

Stainless steel doors closed behind the man dressed in white lab coat and carefully carrying a vial of dark purple liquid. He strolled toward the work bench.

"Here," he said to a much shorter man in thick glasses. "Dr. Kropotnik's formula. He claims it's ready for the human phase of the experiment."

The shorter man shook his head, though he did not look up from his test tubes. "Dr. Kropotnik doesn't know the formula for yogurt."

"Ah, Comrade, I wouldn't say that too loud. He's a prize-winning physicist."

"He's a second rate chemist with first class connections."

"Whatever. Where shall I put this?"

The short man in thick glasses indicated a vial holder with his stubby fingers. "There. And don't forget to label it. We don't want any of Dr. Kropotnik's formulas getting mislabeled... do we?"

The younger man didn't like the tilt of his mentor's eyebrows.

"We're due in five minutes in the board chamber."

"I'm almost finished, Comrade. You can go and save a seat for me. Away from our eminently beloved prize winning physicist, if you don't mind."

"Peter, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were jealous."

"Of what would I be jealous?"

"The man has clout. He's known by nearly every member of the Presidium. He has a rather beautiful home on the Black Sea."

The sawed-off man waved his free hand, as if to dismiss the comment. "I've never been there... but I've heard about the place."

"What have you heard? I only know his g**** arbor is one of the most admired in the region."

"So is his torture chamber."

"Peter!"

"I'm not talking gossip, Yosef, I've seen pictures."

"But he's a scientist... an eminent..."

"He's a butcher! The man made his reputation torturing members of the old guard until they broke down or were killed. And he calls his techniques 'brainwashing'. Ha!!!! State-condoned sadism is more like it."

"He's been in favor for a long time now."

"I know he's survived one shifting regime after another. Only Anastas Mikoyan can approach his record. But he's a barbarian."

"The state exacts a price from us all, Peter."

"Ah, yes," the man said, rubbing his reddened eyes, "I know that well enough. But this latest venture of his... it's outlandish. I doubt that the state gave HIM this latest idea."

"You think he thought it up himself?"

"Knowing the diabolical workings of the man's mind... yes, I do. He's been maniacal about subverting from within. And this latest scheme is purely preposterous."

"Infiltrating college campuses, you mean."

"It's not new, Comrade. It's been tried before... at Berkeley... the University of Chicago... N.Y.U... and always, we've come up short. I think it's pointless to waste our time with c***dren."

"But this new scheme..."

"I know, I know," the man said, shaking his gnomish head adamantly, "I know his theory. Brainwash a trio of young, nubile women... let them do the subverting. I don't like it. It's risky."

"Everything is, Comrade, but if Communism is to prevail..."

"Don't go giving me the party line, Comrade. I know it all too well already."

"Sorry, Peter."

"I'm telling you, it's WE who are going to have to pay for Kropotnik's blunders. The C.I.A. has listening outposts on every college campus in the U.S."

"But they're weak... ineffectual... blunderers..."

"What about Kropotnik?"

"Whatever else you want to say about him... he's a master at his craft. I've seen examples of his handiwork. Flabby pro-Western types turned into solid Communist supporters."

"Just don't look under the table, Comrade. I don't think you'd approve of Kropotnik's methods yourself. I know you have a touch of humanity in you. I've watched you work."

The younger man looked down at the floor, though he could not hide his swelling pride. "Thank you, Comrade."

"Not like that insane Kropotnik. The company he keeps alone would make a devil leap out of his path. That vile whipmaster... what's his name?"

"Vladimir Prokoynin... Commander Prokoynin, actually."

"Ah, yes, one of the Red Army's worst mistakes."

"There's a K.G.B. agent on his staff as well."

"Sergei Chunka. Pride of the Tartars. A Mongolian maniac."

"He's scored an impressive record with the K.G.B."

"He's nothing more than a trained dog. His sexual appetite outstrips Atilla's... whom he resembles... even in a three piece suit."

"Quite a trio."

"And don't forget his vicious little nursemaid."

"Olga Betti," the younger man echoed.

"The Kremlin's biggest dyke. How she ever escaped the purges, I don't know."

"Maybe she was well-connected."

A red light flashed on the wall near the door. It was the sign that someone was entering. The two men busied themselves at the laboratory work bench as a staunch, sharp-jawed woman entered the room.

She could have been a secretary, and indeed, she looked efficient with her note pad tucked under her arm. But the shorter man knew her.

He knew her by reputation and by sight. "Gentlemen," the woman said, narrowing her eyes at them. "Doctor Kropotkin is ready. You will join us in the board chamber."

"Very good, Comrade Betti," the man with the thick glasses said, though he did not look her in the face. She reminded him of Medussa, and he was afraid that if he looked at her directly, he would turn to stone.

***

"A little lower, Comrade," the husky voice of Dr. Kropotkin floated up to the rafter beams of the study. Here, he was surrounded by books and documents that were rarely seen inside of Russia.

But, being a member in good standing with the party, he rated them.

He also rated a female companion.

In this case, she was a voluptuous blonde with thick braids wound around her head and a very sexy look on her face. Not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen... they were to be found in the pages of American girlie magazines... but she would suffice.

And at the moment, she was giving him an excellent nipple massage.

"Ah," he said, satisfied that he was in expert hands. "Run them down my back all the way to my ass, my dear. I love a good tit massage."

The nude girl bent tow over Kropotkin's back aid pinched her nipples between her fingers. She ran them up and down the full length of his broad back and listened to him moan.

She had no desire to displease him. She had heard of what happened to young girls who did. There were rumors that the man was not merely a scientist, but also a sadist of the worst kind.

Diligently, she did exactly as he told her.

"Excellent," he said, fumbling in the air for his brandy.

His efficient secretary/companion, Olga Betti, brought it to him. Along with his favorite Havana cigar. The woman lit the end of his cigar and waited for him to inhale deeply. Then, she sat down at his left hand and watched the proceedings.

She kept her eye pinned on the buxom beauty giving the massage. Three times her precious boss's life had been threatened by a hired assassin.

It didn't hurt to be careful.

Also, she had developed a mild interest in this young blonde wench. A pretty thing she was, too, if a bit on the chunky side.

No matter. She liked them that way. Just enough firm ripe flesh around the midsection for her to sink her teeth into...

"Ahhhhh!" The sound of her boss's moan alerted her, and she watched the woman with more guarded caution. But thus far, the scene seemed innocent enough.

The woman had stuck one of her big, mocha colored nipples into the man's asshole. Apparently, he was enjoying it immensely.

"Yes," he said, as though someone were tickling the bottom of his foot with a feather. "That's lovely, darling. Just keep that up."

Kropotkin felt his dick twitch under his legs. It wouldn't be long before he would have to move to one side and allow the thing free rein.

Then, he would force this darling little party hostess down on her knees and he would fuck her up the ass... or any other orifice that suited his fancy.

Perhaps he would just let her tongue HIS asshole.

He'd have to inspect her tongue first. Girls with thin, ribbony tongues really couldn't hold a candle to those with the thick kind.

Kropotkin edged a little to one side. All these thoughts about getting his asshole licked were making his male member burnished and hard.

He shifted onto one hip and felt his hard wang pop up a bit. His thickish, dark foreskin had already begun to roll back.

His balls began to dance.

The young blonde girl crammed her nipple deeper into the doctor's asshole and began to slowly stroke his balls. She pulled them downward in hot, massaging movements.

She rotated the ellipsoidal eggs around inside his ball sac.

She traced the smooth seam between his huge, hairy balls with her finger. She parted the corrugated flesh of his crinkly hide and rubbed him briskly.

"Mmmmmm," the horny Russian said as he felt his peckerwood tilt up and out at a lewd angle. He could look down on it now and see the clear trail of jism spouting out the slit in his dork knob.

"Would the good doctor care for a mouth massage?" the bubbling blonde girl said with a kittenish grin. "Whatever you wish, of course."

"Ah, yes," the self-satisfied doctor said smugly. "Whatever I wish."

It was a well-known fact among certain select members of the party that there were those who could get whatever they wished.

They were above the law.

Dr. Kropotkin was one of these.

He could tie this luscious lovely down and brand her and nobody would so much as suggest an investigation into his behavior.

He could behead her and send her body air freight to Lenin's tomb, and no one would dare so much as hint that there had been any foul play on his part.

"Come here, young woman," Kropotkin said, wiggling his thickish jewelled finger at her. "I'd like to see you on your knees in front of me."

"Worshipping you, Comrade?" she said with a lilt of her beautiful blonde head.

There was something a little sarcastic in her manner. As if she didn't believe he would request her to do that. He snapped his fingers.

Comrade Olga presented him with an electric cattle prod the same way she had presented him with a cigar and a lighter and a glass of brandy.

Kropotkin jerked up and swatted the girl on her taut, chunky buttocks.

"Aieeeee!!!!" she cried, her eyes wide with horror. Evidently, the stories she had heard about this man were not without basis.

"Bend over," the vile sadistic doctor commanded.

When she did not move instantly, Olga clutched one of her braids and yanked her down to her knees in one brute, unbroken gesture.

"You were told to bend over, bitch!" she snarled.

The blonde girl's knees dug into the polished parquet floor. Her nose touched the butch woman's lace-up leather high heeled shoes.

Olga clutched the girls elbows behind her back, forcing her tits out at an eye appealing angle and causing her enormous pain and agony.

"When Dr. Kropotkin tells you to do something, girl... YOU HAD BETTER DO IT!!!!!"

With that, she threw the girl down and watched in smug satisfaction as her boss whacked the girl's ass time and time again.

Thick, muffled sounds broke the air as he thrashed her flesh.

In between those sounds, the sound of a beautiful blonde girl whimpering could be heard.

Kropotkin scrambled up on his feet and stood with his hard cock jutting up into the girl's face. "I've burned women's nipples off for less insubordinance than that."

"Yes, Comrade!!!!" she said, tears springing from her pinched eyes.

Kropotkin reached around behind her and yanked her head back by the thick blonde braids.

"Unfortunately, I haven't time. I'm expecting guests from the west shortly."

"Very good, Comrade."

"Silence!" Kropotkin ordered.

Even the flies in the room stopped buzzing.

"Now lean down where I can stick my cock into your sweet, pliant... mouth!"

Kropotkin rammed his rigid rod into the girl's startled lips and shoved it far back into her throat. Tears choked her eyes.

But she knew better than to resist. One little move on her part might result in tragedy. The man was not to be toyed with.

"Olga," he said, beckoning the woman with his fingers. "Hand me that salve."

The blonde girl heard his command, though she could do little but wonder what it was he had on his mind at that moment.

The older woman handed her boss a tub of greenish-black salve. He stuck the head of his electric cattle prod in it and nodded to Olga.

Olga stooped down and pressed her fingers into the girl's voluminous butt flesh. She splayed the girl's ass cheeks out wide, exposing the ripe aperture of her pink bung hole.

"Mrrrrrrr!!!!!!" the distraught girl cried once her luscious asshole button had been so rudely exposed. But she had only begun to sense the real pain.

The real pain came a moment later.

It came when Dr. Kropotkin stabbed her wrinkly sweet water well with his hard prod. He knifed her deep and hard and thrust the prod deeply into her anal chasm.

"Mrrrrrrr!!!!!!" she let out, though any articulate pronouncements of her pain were choked off by Kropotkin's thick, bludgeon of a cock.

He rammed it down inside her throat hard and far and fast and without a let up in the action. He forced his rod in up to the hilt of his wick.

The blonde girl twisted, but she had little radius of movement.

The wicked doctor and the wanton woman had made a slave sandwich of her. They were forcing her to take their punishment and take it obediently.

She wished she had never been given this assignment and frankly began to wonder if she would live through it. But she must. She had to...

"Hmmmmmm!" Olga said examining the girl's pussy. It was wide and blonde and very rubbery and moist. She loved to suck young girl's cunts.

"Go ahead," the sweating Dr. Kropotkin said as he rammed his peter in and out of the writhing girl's face. "Suck her juice out. Clean her dry. I plan to hose her down here, shortly. Why not?"

Olga smiled evilly at her prince of darkness. Kropotkin had been ever so good to her since their first meeting in Siberia.

In exchange for total servitude to him, he had provided her with a comfortable life full of luxuries the common man couldn't hope to enjoy.

And he had provided her with an excellent opportunity to seduce young girls... her very favorite sexual sport. She was lucky to have met him.

"Here," the brutal man said, stabbing the girl's hind quarter quim with his hard furious cattle prod pole. "Take this up your ass. It might change your mind about worshipping me in the future when I ask you for it."

The savage head of the man's cock thrust sharply into her juicing gullet. She took him to the maximum and nuzzled her lips against his balls.

In the meantime, her ass went up in smoke. The heat and pain from the constant jabbing of that cattle prod chewed the nerves right out of her bung hole.

Her sphincter burned from the rough treatment and stretched wider than it ever had before in her life. She could barely breathe with that big throbbing log pumping up and down in her throat.

And then, to top it all off, Olga saddled herself between her legs and began nibbling on her thrusting hot pink clit. She wasn't gentle either.

The woman was as brash and crude and demanding as her boss.

She chewed the girl's cunt lips and stretched them wide in the process. She forced her tongue into her silt and added a couple of fingers.

"Don't gobble her all up in one mouthful, Olga dear," Kropotkin teased. Well he knew of his secretary's fondness for younger women.

And well he liked to watch.

Especially when he was getting his dick sucked at the same time.

The blonde girl wasn't the most expert cocksucker he'd had on the end of his dork, but she would do nicely. It war the aspect of force and brutality that turned him on anyway, rather than expertise with tongue, lips and teeth.

He crammed his ramrod down even deeper into her mouth and tried to pack his balls in there, too. But even slaves had their limitations.

She was, after all, only a human, and he had no real desire to break her jaw. If he happened to bust her ass in the process... well, such accidents happened.

The blonde girl felt herself very near to a faint.

She closed her eyes and tried not to watch the huge hard log ramming down into her mouth that was now pumping so out of control inside of her.

"Aha!!!!!" Kropotkin yelled and slapped her hard across her face. "sleeping on the job, are you? Well, we'll see about that, Comrade!"

On top of all the pain she was suffering, now there was this to contend with. Slice after slice of his brutal hand crossed her face, leaving a trail of red welt rows across her chubby, school girlish cheeks.

She felt the razor of his cut diamond ring slice into her flesh. She tasted blood as it seeped out of the cuts and ran down into her mouth.

And she tasted Kropotkin.

She tasted his fury and she tasted his rage.

She tasted the hard thrusting shaft of his surly, red dick.

She tasted the brute butt end of his electric cattle prod.

And she tasted the sexually twisted tongue of the vile Olga, now diddling her slit like a vibrating jackhammer before diving in and out of her cunt hole.

Beyond her control now, her slit juices and her clit bobbed saucily out of the top folds of her cuntal sheath. Olga licked it hard and bit it harder.

"Mrrrrrr!!!!!!!" the girl cried in alarm.

Apparently, it didn't even pay to get aroused with these two. They would see to it that you paid for that little indiscretion.

The girl writhed, though her writhings only resulted in more mouth punishment from Kropotkin's pumping hose of a dick... or in more pain at the mercy of that greased up dildo stick up her ass... or in Olga taking charge of her cunt with her mouth.

Fingers were now inserted into her pussy and forced hard up her slit.

One, two, then three... four fingers. Four fingers crammed inside the slick hot confines of her oily cunt canal as the woman fist fucked her.

The blonde girl kept her eyes open and tried not to stare into Kropotkin's eyes. How long this charade would continue, she knew not.

Perhaps, if she could get him off...

She roused her numb tongue and began to diddle the head of his glans. She swiped it back and forth and around and around in calculated motions that would bring most men to the very brink of desire.

She wondered about Kropotkin.

She wondered if he were human enough to respond to her lusty licks.

She spiraled her tongue around his glans and dipped into his juicing hairpin slit. She coiled her tongue around his corona and jabbed and rubbed him at every point.

Then, she sucked in her cheeks like a bellows and blew him long and hard.

She took him far down into her throat and held him there as long as she dared.

She clenched her mouth to his wick and pumped him as best she could under such a limited band of movement. But the trick seemed to work.

"Suck me!!!!!" Kropotkin raged.

"Fuck my big dork with your tiny little mouth, Comrade!!"

"Eat my rod!!!"

"Take it... take it... take it all!!!!!"

"SUCK ME!!!"

The blonde girl vacuumed his hard pole back into her gullet and spat it out as fast as she could go. Again and again she repeated the exercise.

Until...

Kropotkin's dick slit flew open and a cannon load of come sprayed her square in the throat. His stomach contracted hard and she took down two more blasts of jisms.

Now, she felt Olga's hand on the cattle prod. It stabbed her deep.

Surely, it would sever her body in two.

She closed her eyes and wished that if it had to be over... it would be over fast.

Then, just as the woman yanked the prod out of her ass, she felt herself collide against her fingers and tongue in a wild, unforeseen burst of orgasm.

"Aaaaaaaa!!!!!!" she said, almost in relief.

But even as she was coming, the cruel doctor was giving his orders.

"Take that bitch and throw her out the door, Olga. She's of no further use to us. Throw her out. See how well she fares in a snowstorm in her birthday suit."

The two of them chuckled as they prodded the girl to her feet, even while the cattle prod was still anchored in her poop chute.

They worked her by the butt all the way to the front door and opened it. Then, in one graceless maneuver, Olga popped the cattle prod out of her ass and shoved the screaming girl onto the icy steps where she fell, slid all the way to the street and managed to amble off into the night, leaving a trail of blood in the filthy snow behind her.

CHAPTER THREE

Ursula swung her curvy ass onto the park bench and stared at the church spire. It was, as their tour guide had said often, a salient example of neo-Romanesque architecture.

"Note the ornate gargoyles and chimera on the four corners of the steeple," the guide's voice droned on. "Here we see once again a fusion of the religious with the pagan..."

Ursula nodded and tried to keep her note pad on her lap. Not that Paris was boring. Far from it. The place was full of majestic churches with ornate domes awl steeples and spires.

Problem was, everyone of them reminded her of cock.

And cock was something she had been expressly told by her husband-to-be was off limits to her until he saw her again. What a bummer!

She was beginning to wish that she didn't have a steady boyfriend in this city. The men weren't gay-acting at all! Suave, continental and soft-spoken, perhaps, but that hardly constituted a queer.

And the way they wiggled those asses in those tight French-cut pants as they strolled down the boulevards or sat sipping cafe au lait with anisette at the outdoor bistros.

Her eye wandered over to one of those pairs of buns right now.

A tall, gaunt guy in sunglasses was sitting at an outdoor cafe, and unless she missed her guess he was staring at her.

Instinctively, she stared down at the cobblestones beneath her. She had been given strict orders not to flirt... well, not to ball...

And in her case, flirting usually led to balling. That's what happened when she met Tyson. She would have to watch herself real close here.

How she envied the other girls on the tour.

They seemed so foot loose and fancy free. One of them sat next to her on the bench as the tour guide pointed out some other salient features of the majestic cathedral.

"Hi, Penny," Ursula said, tossing a tendril of her thick hair over her shoulder. She had no idea Paris could be so hot in June.

"Hi," the girl said, scanning the horizon.

"You're looking the wrong way," she said, nodding over her left shoulder toward the cafe across the street.

"Oh!" the ash blonde girl said with a knowing smile. "I know where you're looking. How do these Parisian men get poured into those pants? I mean, don't their dicks split through the material?"

Now there was a girl after Ursula's own heart.

"He's looking at you like you're a ham sandwich and he hasn't eaten all day."

"Aren't those hard-ons reflected in his sunglasses?" Penny giggled back.

The two laughed for a while until a third girl joined their party.

"I see you two are really taking to Parisian landscape."

"Especially his," Penny said, indicating the dark, handsome stranger with a tilt of her head. "Isn't he juicy enough to pinch?"

"Not my type, really," Tamara said eyeing Ursula and Penny.

Now those two.

They WERE her type.

But she didn't dare say so. After all, they were sharing a pension together and any word of lesbianism might stir up a scandal.

"Funny thing is," Ursula said, scratching her raven head, "I think I've seen him before... somewhere..."

"Probably in the movies," Penny threw in. "No, I don't think so. But somewhere. He's unusual looking. He'd stand out anywhere."

"Are you joking? This city is full of types like that," Tamara said with a regal toss of her fuzzy reddish blonde hair.

"Not in my hotel room," Penny whined.

"We'll have an hour break for lunch!" the tour guide shouted and blew her whistle. If only she didn't insist on blowing that damned whistle!

Several girls went off together... all in different directions.

"Well, I'm going back to the hotel and stick my ass in a bidet," Tamara announced, standing up. Secretly, she thought that this might be her chance to escape this mass of lunatics and sneak off to see her family... among other things.

"Oh, do you mind if I join you?" Ursula said, jumping up.

"Well, you could, but my bidet is pretty small."

"I mean... if you're going back to the hotel. If I stay here... I'll only get in trouble. I mean, I'd just rather be off the streets... away from men."

Tamara smiled like a hungry lynx.

It sounded fine to her, though she had no idea the girl was gay. But if she didn't like men, so much the better. Maybe she could get in a quickie with this beautiful raven-haired beauty before she took a powder.

"You coming, Penny?"

"Nooo," the blonde girl said, swinging her curvy thighs around and lounging against the back of the park bench. "I think I'll stay here and look at the scenery."

"Lucky you," Ursula said softly, almost to herself.

She would have loved to have stayed and watched the dark stranger in the tight pants, but it was just too damned tempting. She didn't want to lose a fiance over it.

Ursula and Tamara headed across the street as Penny gave the man a very serious wink followed by what could only be described as a "come hither" look.

It seemed to do the trick.

No sooner had she smiled and pulled her prairie skirt up ever so delicately over her dimples knees, then the man stood up and sauntered over.

He was even better close up.

***

"Wow! Your room overlooks the park," Ursula said with girlish enthusiasm.

She peered out the window and saw Penny and the tall, dark stranger heading toward their hotel arm in arm. Penny was smiling.

"Now there's a fast worker."

"Well, it's a fast life, I expect," Tamara purred from her position reclining against the back of her bed. She looked Ursula up and down.

The girl had a hot shape on her. The kind of tits that never needed a bra, but only looked fuller in one. And long, tapering legs.

She so loved good ankles on a girl.

"You sure you're a student at Balfour U.?" Ursula said as the hungry dyke eyed her up and down.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you don't act like a college student."

"How do I act?"

"Ooooh, like someone who's been around a lot. Like someone who's been to Paris before. Not like somebody on an all-girl tour to the churches of Paris."

"Well, I was born here, if you really want to know."

"I hope I wasn't prying."

"You were. But I don't mind. Not from someone as beautiful as you."

"That's sweet of you. My fiance says the same thing to me... oh, he's not really my fiance. We won't be engaged till I return in August."

"How lucky for him."

"Hmmm... luck for me, too. You should see him. Muscles like you wouldn't believe. Biceps the size of footballs... and a cock that's long as your..." Ursula looked terribly embarrassed as she clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Don't be shy about telling me intimate details," Tamara said, casually. "I WOULD be more interested if you'd like to tell me about yourself... what are YOUR finer physical features?"

"Well, everybody says my hair."

"I can see that. Tell me about the ones I can't see. Better yet... show me."

"You're joking..." Ursula said, wishing to hell her pussy lips wouldn't pick this particular time to twitch. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you're gorgeous and bright and adorable and I'd love to make it with you."

"Wow!" Ursula said, plopping down onto the edge of the bed.

"Does that surprise you?"

"Yeah, but there's something else."

"What's that?"

"It baffles me a bit, too."

"Why so?"

"Because I've never made it with a chick before."

"Well, don't let that stop you. This is Paris. Why not try something new?"

Ursula felt her nipples swell up and strain against her bra. Her pussy lips yearned to be set free of their nylon confines. They twitched and tugged.

"I think I will," Ursula said, almost too low for the other girl to hear her. "Why the hell not? Tyson told me I couldn't make it with another guy! He never said a damned word about another chick!!!!"

"Well, aren't we lucky?" And with that, the girl lunged for her. It was kind of a friendly lunge, but it was damned aggressive... for a girl.

Ursula felt herself forced backwards and lay panting on the end of the bed with her huge, hot tits rising and falling as the girl set her dewy rose petal lips against her own.

Never having made out with a girl before, Ursula didn't exactly know what to think, but she was surely not disappointed.

Tamara's kisses were as ardent and tongue-devouring as those of her own male lover, and the feel of those ripe boobies pressing against her own made her tremble with arousal.

The red-headed Tamara wasted little time drawing the girl to full out passion. She rolled the hot nubbin of her scarlet nipples around and around in between her thumb and forefinger, setting the girl ablaze everywhere.

Ursula was quick to reach a writhing, heart-thumping pinnacle of desire. And she usually spent a long time there. Today was no exception.

Neither was the fact that her lover, on this particular occasion was a hot, lusty young woman, wise in the ways of lesbian love and very turned on by Ursula.

"You remind me of a porcelain doll," Tamara whispered to Ursula as she squeezed the girl's nipples with her fingers and pressed her pelvis against hers.

"Ooooooo," Ursula said and smiled a little self-consciously. Making it with another girl was fun and damned exciting.

Maybe more exciting than she thought it was going to be when she had, on impulse, first decided to hop into bed with the fuzzy red-haired beauty.

Next Tamara sucked the girls nipples until what was full became rock hard and throbbing. She tasted each inch of the girl's hot, popping titties as if they were rich morsels and gave over to the enterprise with total abandon.

Just seeing Tamara's naked body stirring above her gave Ursula a jolt of passion. She was exceptionally tall and statuesque and the sight of her sucking on her tits as if they were the most deliciously amusing projections in the world made her wonder what she had been missing all these years with Tyson.

"Spread your thighs wide," the dominant red head ordered. "I want to play with that hot little love button of yours."

"How do you know it's so hot?"

"I can tell the temperature of a girl's clit by tasting her nipples. Yours are at the sizzling point right now. Believe me, your clit is hot."

Ursula could not deny her that point.

Her cunt felt damned near to exploding with all the pressure from her lusty big love button. It poked out from between her pussy lips and shone like a tiny red beacon in the night.

"Mmmmm," the raven-haired lovely said as she splayed out her hungry thighs and arched her body so that Tamara could do as she wished with her.

What she wished was to suck her cunt.

But first, she traced a delirious line of arousal around her stretched out pussy lips, paying special attention to the rubbery prong of her clitoris.

It was every bit as hot and bulging as Tamara predicted it would be.

And she was utterly amazed at the darker girl's responsiveness.

No sooner did she ring her clit with her fist than the girl was sent into a series of pussy spasms and gyrations that rivaled a belly dancer's.

"Wow, you're hot," Tamara spoke softly, pointing out the obvious.

Indeed she was.

Her nipples glowed and her asshole radiated fire. Her pussy muscles contorted and massaged Tamara's probing fingertips.

"You've got, one of those nice, stretchy cunts," she said, "I do so hate those tight, tiny ones. Or the ones that feel like they're made out of aluminum."

"My box is hot okay," Ursula said, squirming in heat, "Tyson's told me that often enough. He tells me I'm so hot..."

"Why don't you just forget about him?" Tamara cooed. "Here you are in Paris having a ripping time and thinking about some schnook back home. It's not very continental!"

"Well, we're ALMOST engaged."

"Hmmmmm," the hot vixen purred, "all the more reason to experiment now, while you're a free spirit. Wouldn't you say?"

That thought seemed to quiet Ursula for a while. At least as far as her doubts were concerned. Her body wasn't exactly quiet.

Her body gyrated and twisted and yearned for the new female lover that pushed her three fingers hot and hard into the willing chasm of her pliable pussy slit.

Ursula turned to face the beautiful girl finger fucking her and let out a big sigh of sexual arousal. That always turned Tamara on.

She loved getting other women excited. It was really the only thing that got her off.

It was the only time she could be dominant for her entire experience with men had been based on her performance as a submissive.

Therefore, she could not be comfortable with men.

But she was comfortable with beautiful women... especially when she was wiggling her fingers inside their cunt holes. Wiggling and sliding them in and out.

Ursula moaned and arched her back harder.

Tamara sucked the bold burnished nubbins of her tits and fingered her cunt hole. She rubbed her thumb against the girl's distended clit and sank four fingers into her twat. Her pussy muscles obliged with only a little bit of maneuvering.

Obviously, the girl had taken a good sized dick recently. Or she was quite used to taking big cock with little or no pain.

"Oh, yeah," Ursula urged her on.

Tamara didn't need a lot of encouragement... just a beautiful, willing gi