Lonnie… his lovely wife's name echoed in his mind and a small portion of Roger tried again to make the guilt of this sensual orgy with a strange girl appear, but still nothing happened, for his faith in his wife had been torn asunder by the night and morning of devilish suspicions about her potential adultery. Perhaps it would come later, he thought, after he had time to think things out, but right now, all he could do was feel the warm heat of Kim's body, smell the musk of her perfume, and soak in the permeations of their lusts.

"God," Kim said, smiling sweetly, her voice drugged with momentary satiation, "I came but you haven't yet, lover."

"I will," he breathed hard. "Another fuck like that and I'll burst my balls." The ache of his testicles throbbed hotly.

"Roll over, and I'll suck your cock instead. Would you like that?"

"Yes… oh, yes!" He pulled back, sliding both his finger and his hardened cock out of her anus and pussy. He hated to, for he was so near to shooting his load of white, hot sperm up into her belly that he didn't want to stop, but he had to let her have her way. He rolled on his back, thin trails of their sexual secretions following his rigid shaft across her lower thigh, and then he lay tense and expecting, his blood-swollen penis pointing straight up toward the ceiling. As Kim Copeland climbed up on her all-fours and bent her head over his cock and balls, her tongue moistening lips which were wide and trembling, Roger knew that this was going to be an afternoon he would not soon forget.

And behind the two-way mirror, Harry Saunders cursed the additional time before he could sink his own angry aching prick into that hot young whore on the bed, and put more film into the camera. He started clicking away as Kim's mouth slowly closed over the turgid, moist expanse of Roger Carmel's helplessly expanding cock.