“Gaaaaagggh… ohhhhhhh,” she groaned. “Stop!” His only answer was to make his tongue flicker like summer lightning across her clitoris. He began moving his finger in and out of the squirming rectum.

Sylvia knew she had gone insane… there was nothing rational about what she was doing. Nothing so perverted, or so lewd as this had ever happened in her entire life. Bruce had wanted to make love to her this way in the beginning, but she had refused knowing how dirty it was. She had been horribly disappointed and a little frightened, when Bruce had suggested it a second and a third time. And the third time she had screamed at him that he should see a psychiatrist, for it was obvious he was sick to want to do something as perverted as that to her. And now, she was letting a perfect stranger do this to her body. She knew her expression must be the same as that on her husband’s new secretary’s face; lustful, perverse, demented!… And she didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore except that delicious tongue bringing her to what she knew was going to be unsuspected peaks of climax; his tongue was a passport to a land of wild uninhibited passion and pleasure never before entered by her body.

She was only vaguely aware when Shelton, without removing his mouth, drew her legs up and around his neck. Sylvia’s buttocks spasmed beneath his touch, and she cried out deliriously when a second finger joined the first in her rectum. When they were pulled out, she groaned in disappointment until, abruptly, she felt his tongue leave her vagina and seek out the now slightly stretched little cavern. She actually screamed in rapture as his tongue flickered sensuously against the anal lips and then pushed its way in. The hedonistic pleasure was like a runaway forest fire; she could feel it roaring up the canyons until suddenly, without warning, it crowned in one raging inferno of lust.