Ross had seen the sexy girl at work, and they had engaged in a little of that lightweight, hardly serious flirting that people with the same employer do, usually without ever knowing each other.
Then he got the promotion, and within a week he had found a better apartment. The guy there was getting married and moving to Kingston, with IBM. He was pretty desperate. Ross not only took over his lease, but he got a bonus: the guy left all his collection of magazines, books, and pictures. It was a hell of a collection. He said he and his wife-to-be wouldn't need that stuff, and Ross always wondered if he was right.
The very night Ross moved in, he discovered that the girl he'd seen at work not only lived in the same building, but on the same floor. They rode up in the elevator together.
She glanced at him when he spoke, then her eyes flickered and she warmed up visibly, recognizing him.
"Oh hi ... I know you, you're at work. Visiting somebody here?"
"I just moved in," Ross said. "You live here?"
She nodded. "On seven."
"No kidding ... I'm in seven-oh-six."
"Seven twenty-two," she said, visibly warming even more. "When did you move in?"
"Last night, after work."
"Good grief, I was out and didn't even notice. Una ... some crewcut-type lived there, didn't he?"
Ross nodded. "Yeah. He's getting married."
She turned up her nose. "Happens," she said. She cocked her head and looked at him. "Listen...."
"Our floor," he said, as the doors open. They got off and the elevator doors closed and the lights above it started blinking upward. There were twenty-nine floors in the new high-rise building.
They were alone in the carpeted hallway.
"Listen, I was starting to say ... oh oh. You engaged or like that?"
He shook his head. He felt more than interest flickering in him.
She smiled more broadly. "Well, since you're new and all and I'm an old-timer, why don't we break the cliche about people in the same building never knowing each other? Come on down and have a welcome-to-the-Heston-Building dinner with me."
"God, I'd love to!"
"That's what I like," she laughed, "enthusiasm!"
They were walking down the hall, but his apartment was near the elevator, hers on down the long hall of the block-through building.
"How about if I bring a bottle of wine?"
She nodded. "Sounds good. Any color ... I don't know that much about wines anyhow."
"Whatever I've got," he said, grinning and trying not to be too foolish about it. Lord, she was an absolute doll!
"See you in about ... oh, an hour, something like that?"
He checked his watch. "Synchronize. It is now five-thirty-seven point two."
She went along, peering at her own wristwatch in a business-like manner. "Check. See you at six-thirty-seven point four: Mark!"
"Right," Ross said, and went exultantly into his apartment.
Less than four hours later he was even more exultant, because after dinner and the bottle of wine, things on her couch got mighty hot, and both of them were more than half undressed, and she suggested they save wear and tear and strip off the rest themselves, so they could hang them up.
Her name was Henrietta, which he agreed was ghastly. She was called Hank, and she was secretary to Mister Hochstadter. That explained how she could afford this apartment without a roommate. Her hair was very red and she wore a lot of it, loose, parted in the middle so that she had formed the new habit of constantly brushing it back from her face. She had pale green eyes and a nose that was more cute than beautiful and a small-lipped mouth that he had already learned was very warm. She had pretty dimples, too, long creases in each cheek every time she smiled.
She also had lovely, unusual breasts. Very pale but strangely swollen at the tips, they were hung well apart and slung to either side so that the nipples braced him, rather than pointing straight at him or upward.
They were undressing, now, with a lot of touching and smiling. He had to pause to watch the wild bobble and bounce of her tits as she bent to run down the skirt he had already pulled high onto her hips. She went to hang it up, swaying. Her buttocks looked like a couple of small round animals jumping around inside her sheer black panties, so tight and sheer they were charcoal gray rather than black.
Keeping an eye on that busy ass and the long, lovely white line of her back, he shucked off his shorts.
After hanging up her skirt, she walked back, her breasts doing wild calisthenics. She smiled at his penis, which was past the halfway point to erection.
"Now " Hank said, "are you a man, Ross?"
"You're about to find out."
She crossed her arms over her breasts. She had not taken off her skimpy panties. "Oh, am I?"
He went to her. His hands slid easily onto her lower waist, just about the flare of her womanly hips. He kissed her.
What the hell had happened? It was like kissing a child or a skittish virgin, not the woman he'd been wildly petting for the past hour on her own couch. He tickled her lips with his tongue. They parted only slightly, and he had to force his tongue in. He licked about inside her mouth.
He pulled it out and stepped back, keeping his hands on her hips. "All right, Hank. What happened?"
She blinked. "Nothing happened."
"Like hell. You've gone all ice inside. That wasn't a kiss. I was practically raping your mouth."
She smiled at the phrase, but stood there looking coolly at him.
"Maybe I got carried away. Maybe I think you ought to prove you want me. Maybe you're going to have to take me."
He stared at her. That book he'd read just last night, one of the many left by his apartment's former tenant. All that rough stuff, and the writer had indicated very clearly that the girl grooved on it. It had excited Ross, right enough, and he'd finished reading the book with one hand. But he had wondered.
Now ... was Hank Aldiss asking for ... rough stuff?
But what if that wasn't what she meant?
Take the butt by the horns and the girl by the genitals, Ross, and find out, he told himself.
She was still standing there staring at him in an open challenge.
He accepted it by pulling her strongly against him and kissing her with his teeth hard against the insides of his lips until her mouth was forced open and he felt a tremor run through her. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, but suddenly they curled up into quivering fists.
His hand slid around over her back, traced the lovely depth of its long center line, and slid down to touch first one, then the other of the dimples that dented her skin just above the burgeoning thrust of her rump.
His hand slipped down onto it, pulling her to him. She came, her crotch smacking his, and she shivered.
Maybe it wasn't really roughness she wanted, he mused, washing out the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Maybe it was just a little forcefulness, actions on his part to relieve her of any doubts about her being wanted. He wondered if he was supposed to rape her.
Instead, he pressed himself hard against her so that she could feel the hardness of his cock against her. Then he grasped the elastic band of her pants, just at the ass crease, and pulled them up, hard.
"Uhh!" She gasped, wincing as her own panties cut into the lips of her petal-soft vulva. She writhed against him. Her hands opened and clutched his shoulders.
He released her lips and held her hard against him, her cheek against his, so that he could look down her back. He pulled. The thin nylon of her panties slipped up between her high-set, narrowly clefted ass cheeks until he had completely bared both buttocks. She continued to writhe against him, crushing her breasts against his chest and sighing softly.
With one hand high on her back, he moved the hand gripping her pants in a sawing movement that forced the cloth up and down between her buttocks and into the slit of her cunt, sliding abrasively over the tender flesh between vulva and anus.
"Oh," she gasped, and sighed. She pressed her face back against his. Her cheek felt hot. Her hands were beginning to move over his back.
He released his grip on her briefs and grinned at the distinct shudder he saw when her buttocks dropped back into place. She sighed and pressed her crotch and lower belly against the tall staff of his cock, standing straight up between them and gouging into both of them.
Curling a finger inside her panties, he slithered it over her buttocks' inner surfaces. He felt them tighten as he probed and explored. Then his fingertip traced down the long slick crack and found the tiny, lipless mouth. He pressed it with his fingertip.
"Umm ... ah...." She grabbed him hard. Her fingers hurt. She was beginning to pant and her breasts were rubbing themselves hard against him. "Oh ... uh ... wait.. "
He didn't wait, but continued to exert pressure until his finger was within the snug flesh ring of her anus. It was incredibly tight and fierily warm, the soft flesh inside that delicate little slot.
After wiggling his fingertip about inside her until the tight sphinctering pressure eased slightly, he let it slip out. She shuddered and rammed against him so hard he had to put a foot back to keep from falling down.
"Uh ... oh, baby," she gasped, "you're so mean to your poor little girl."
Not sure if she were nuts or not but too hot right now really to give a damn, Ross cupped one buttock in his palm and jigged it rapidly up and down.
"No, I'm so good to my big girl," he whispered into her ear, and tamped the words home with his tongue.
She reacted as if he'd shoved the tongue straight up her gash. Shivers rushed up and down her from her nape to her heels.
She allowed herself to be turned so that her back was to him. Her head leaned back on his shoulder. She sighed and emitted sexy little moans while he ran his hands all over her tits with his naked cock pressed firmly against her butt.
His hands cupped the pulpy pink flesh of her breasts, fondled the gorgeous loose masses, letting his fingers trail over the thrusting, seeking nipples, making them creep forward, asserting themselves, yearning out until they jutted pink and proud as his thumbs played across them.
Sighing, she shivered and wiggled against him. When he slid one hand down, he found her own at her crotch. He wrapped his fingers around hers, pulled her panties from between her labia, and wriggled her own fingers up under the nylon.
She gasped when he forced one of her own fingers up into her cunt. Then he slid one of his own in beside it, feeling the great heat and enticing moistness of that soft-lipped channel.
He released her hand and her breast.
"Stand right here and get those pants off."
She shivered, but hesitated.
"Get 'em off, woman. I want you, you're the sexiest thing in town and I hope to hell I've got enough cock to fill up that sexy hole!"
This time her shiver was more violent as the words raced through her like fingers of fire. Moaning aloud, she bent slightly. That forced her butt hard against his prick, which throbbed in to open the cheeks. He held her there with his hands on her waist, slim and supple. Still moaning, she stripped off her panties, and all the while her ass gave his livid, pounding cock a massage so sensual that he felt his balls tightening up as if grabbed.
She straightened, naked. He turned her around and she plastered herself hotly against him. Her tongue dived into his mouth, swung wildly like the clapper of a hard-pulled bell, and leaped back when he start ed to suck it He sent his own tongue in pursuit, gripping and rolling her buttocks with both hands.
She opened wide and stroked his tongue with hers, inside her mouth, while his fingers molded her beautiful ass feverishly, sinking into the creamy flesh with the full vigor of his will and his passion for her.
To hell with the bed, he thought and bore her down onto the floor.
The apartments were furnished with wall-to-wall carpet, and although it couldn't be called a shag rug, it wouldn't abrade her tender bottom. She sighed, looking up at his face looming over hers. Her eyes were very bright, full of passion and expectation.
Spasm-like thrills ran through him as he felt the lips of her richly moistened gash grazing pliantly against the throbbing tip of his prick. She felt it too, and sucked up a long deep breath.
His cock nestled there, poised for entry between the tight inner lips. Her face took on an anxious look. Her hands tugged at his hips.
He smiled at her, listening to her little moan of response to his hard, moist contact just within the soft flesh of her crotch. He pushed.
Vibrant with sexual tension, his plump meat went at her, plunged into her. Her great breath gushed out as her body caught his in a tight throbbing grip. Her pussy grabbed the swollen glans, holding it and seeming to suck him greedily in.
She drew in another deep breath and let it out. Her eyes sparkled. Her hands slipped over his hips and tested the flesh of his flanks.
"Um-m-mmmm. Yes, baby! You sure have."
Buried in her, he propped himself above her sprawled body, on his elbows. "I sure have what?"
She sighed and wiggled. "You sure have enough' cock to fill me up!"
He grinned and slid his prick out, not quite leaving the grip of her outer ring of strong flesh, only to plunge it down and in again to bury it deep in the widespread slit of her cunt. She grunted, then smiled and began to work in a beautiful rhythm with him, twisting her hips voluptuously while he slapped and rocked her body with every hard deep thrust.
"Umm, yes! Oh, darling ... there! Oh that's good, baby! I can move so well like this. Did you know that French prosties identify a man as a gentleman when he supports himself on his elbows?"
He chuckled, straining, urging the deeper entry of his impaling shaft in her humid hole.
"And lazy men," he said. "This way you can move, and that is definitely a good!"
She smiled and ran her tongue out to-moisten her lips. She let it twitch, in a little sensuous wiggle for his eyes.
"Ross?"
"Umm?"
Tuck me blind."
He tried. The big shaft of his cock spread and filled her cunt, plumbing its farthest reaches. His pelvis smacked hers and his swollen scrotum spanked the wet lower crevice of the hole he rammed so deeply into.
She gasped and twisted beneath him, working hard to churn her hips, fucking him with a circling motion of her ass beneath her. He listened to the slap of their bodies, his pounding form drumming a demanding tattoo on hers. The tight clutch of her hungry cunt drove him wild with desire every time he thrust between the eager puckered lips.
Her naked, glistening body responded to his grinding and pounding and arching with ardent tremors and contractions. Splitting the bare sweaty flesh of her crotch was like plunging helplessly into a whirlpool of lust. Spasms of pleasure throbbed through him and he saw them mirrored in the twitching and rippling of her squirming body.
Each of his downward thrusts became ever more vigorous. He burrowed his swollen organ deeper into her until the big hot pole was totally ensconced in her writhing quaking pussy. He felt a slightly painful pressure at the tip, and realized his knob was pressing against her cervix. A thrill went through him. Yeah, he had enough cock to fill up this sexy hole, all right! Any more prick and he'd be tearing her open.
He grunted. It mounted in him until his monstrous load was quivering on the very brink of eruption.
"That's enough being gentleman," he husked from a suddenly dry throat, and he lowered his full weight on her. She gasped, smiled, and wrapped her arms around him. Straining her neck, she kissed his ear and ran her tongue into it.
Stretched on her lithe softness, he slid his hands down to her hips and leaned left, then right, working his fingers in under her to grasp the perfect bowls of her voluptuous, creamy bottom. She hung onto his neck and jerked her body so that her ass cheeks jiggled in his grip.
He moved his right hand inward until the longest finger sank into the deep cleavage. It was hot, and tight-pressed, and damp with her sweat.
His finger tickled at the delicate little humid cavern of her anus, then slid up into its snug grip.
"Ahhhhhhhhh," she sighed, letting herself relax. His finger slid farther up her asshole.
He moved it, rubbing as he stroked his cock in and out, feeling his own finger sliding along the underside of his prick, through the thin wall that separated the two channels he had plugged up.
She squirmed in the helpless grip of passion, fucking herself in a provocative, uncontrollable fury that gained her harder and deeper thrusts in both wet canals. She continued to grunt and quiver while his finger slid and wiggled about in her throbbing asshole and his swelling cock stroked deep into her cunt with a joyous completion of penetration.
Her sucking cunt was pressed even more tightly around his flailing cock now, with his finger pressing her rectum open and forcing those walls against those of her vagina. He felt it coming, and he smiled and strained hard into her.
Suddenly hot, glutinous liquid was squirting up her moist furrow, bursting forth like the rush of raging water in a flash flood. She screamed and went into a fury of squirming and hunching, raking him with her nails the moment he started to come.
His jerking penis blasted its contents deep and forcefully up into the soft warmth of her hungry hole. She groaned when he did, squeezed when he did, gasped when his finger slipped out of her ass, and went limp and soft when he did.
They lay limply on the rug and told each other how lovely it was and how wonderful they were.
The only big drag of the entire marvelous-evening was when he had to put on his clothes just to walk down the hall to his own apartment, where he took them off again and flopped into bed.
CHAPTER TWO
Ross hung around in the hall next morning, but at last he had no more time and was forced to gallop to get to work on time.
Hank was already there, and he was sorry he'd missed her. He didn't see her all that much, since she spent most of her time in Mister Hochstadter's private office. She and Ross also played the office game by the unwritten rule: they pretended no more than casual notice of each other.
This was his night at the Y, and by the time he left-having been told he might consider trying out for the Olympic swimming team, which he knew was horseshit-it was after ten. He paused outside his door, looking down the hallway and thinking about her, considering. But he decided against it and went on in and to bed, with another of the super-sexy books Mason had left behind. Ross much preferred the books to the pictures. Pictures were too damned expensive and were nice for a few minutes, and after that they were old stuff. A book lasted a lot longer and he liked the buildup within himself as he read the unfolding scenes.
Mason hadn't seemed to have bought anything but erotica, but maybe he'd taken the rest of his books and magazines with him. Whether he was trying to prove something, or just thinking hopefully about Hank, Ross wasn't sure. But he left his cock unspent and drank a beer, which, at midnight, made him sleepy.
They rode home together Wednesday, but she told him she was going out.
He ate-a chicken potpie, since he wasn't much of a cook and didn't care a dime about fixing himself anything that took any trouble.
Then, cursing the House Rules, he got into his swim-trunks, pulled his pants on over them, and went down to the buildings' basement. There the well-off builder-owner got a little better off with coin washers and dryers and also provided a small swimming pool. Why in hell he had then posted the rule about no "bathing" suits in the halls, Ross couldn't imagine. Probably protecting our morals, he thought, glancing around at the four other people here.
There were two girls-women, he corrected himself; call 'em girls these days and get your balls kicked!
-over on the far side of the pool, apparently together. And a very bosomy black woman-actually she was a medium-brown Negro girl, but there were rules about what you called them, too, these days. She had cleverly molded herself into a yellow suit that was beautiful against her old-penny skin. She lay on her side at the far end of the pool, alone, trailing one hand lazily in the water.
One of those super-muscular guys with a shock of blond hair was diving repeatedly of the board, displaying his excellent form and then climbing out to repeat the process. Sorry, Ross thought, I'm not a producer of Italian movies.
He dropped his pants, doffed his shirt, and left them on the long row of benches that ran along the wall. Then he carried his towel over to the edge of the pool and tested the water with his foot before doing anything rash like plunging into arctic deeps.
Oh, man, he thought. The pool was not only lighted from below with soft blue bulbs, but it was heated as well.
He backed up, took five or six running steps, and went straight in, in a damned good cleaving dive that carried him well out into the water. He touched bottom with one hand, then breast-stroked strongly, in a shallow upward glide.
He came up about five feet from the other side. Treading water, he jerked his head and squeezed his eyes shut before shoving the hair off his forehead.
The big blond guy went kasploooosh and came up a few feet away.
"Hey, you did a good dive over there," he said.
"Thanks," Ross said. "How's the board?"
"Oh, great. Gotta be careful though, this pool's only about twelve feet deep. You can bruise a few knuckles. Haven't seen you down here before."
"Name's Ross Stender. I just moved in Sunday night."
"Oh. Hello, Ross. I'm John, John Button."
"Button?"
John nodded his handsome, very blond head. "That's it. I'm the only one I know."
Ross laughed. "You're the only one I know too, John. Think I'll try the board."
"Careful about your angle!"
"Yeah."
Ross was careful about his angle, so careful that he took a little too much impact on his gut. He came up gasping and floundering. Suddenly a strong arm slid around his waist and he was tugged swiftly to the side. John boosted him up-and patted him fondly on the ass as Ross wiggled over the edge and lay flat, gasping. His stomach felt as if somebody'd let him have it with a leather paddle.
Then he realized. That damned guy patted me on the tail!
That wasn't all. Now that damned guy was sitting beside him, swinging his legs over the pool's edge, and patting Ross just as fondly on the back.
"You all right, Ross?"
"Sure, I'm all right. I took too damned much of your advice. In my eagerness to keep from bouncing off the bottom of the pool I did a belly-whopper. But I didn't really need help."
"That's okay. No trouble. You sure do have a nice back, Ross."
"Uh ... yeah, well, quit patting it, will you, John? I don't want anybody to get the wrong idea, okay?"
John smiled. Perfect teeth, naturally. "Anybody? Hell, there's nobody down here but us chickens."
"I ain't no chicken, John, and what about those two dolls over there? One of 'em's watching."
This time John's smile broadened into a laugh. "You're not in any need of impressing them, Ross. They, ah, they're roommates. And they don't like boys."
"Men?"
"Men either."
Ross blinked. "Well, there's a chick down at the other end of the pool, like."
"A chi...." John's hand had left Ross's back, but now it came back. "Her?"
"Yeah. Looks great from here. Don't tell me she's Lesbian, too!"
"Beats me, but, uh, you color blind, Ross?"
Ross rolled away from the hand he didn't want on his back and came up into a squat, facing the other man. He stared darkly into John's big gray eyes.
"Yeah, in some ways. Yeah, I guess I am. You prejudiced?"
"Well I uh, no, I mean, ah ..
"You wouldn't make it with a black cat, huh?"
"No man, I...." John broke off.
"Neither would I, John. Or a white cat, either. Dig?"
John gazed at him, then nodded. "Yeah. You prejudiced, Ross?"
Ross had to grin. "About what I do, yes. Not about what you do, John."
John nodded. "Well."
"Friends?"
"Yeah!" John grinned. They exchanged a symbolic handshake, although Ross half expected a finger to scratch his palm. It didn't happen, and he felt a little ashamed. Maybe he was prejudiced, about gays. He'd have to work on that. But he wasn't interested in experience.
Right now he felt like showing them all something, and maybe proving something to himself. He nodded, swung a hand in a sort of little salute, and plunged back into the water again. He stroked to the other end of the pool and managed to come up about two feet from the black girl's face.
She blinked.
"Hi," Ross said.
"Yeah, hi."
"Name's Ross, and I had to come see what the face that goes with that beautiful yellow suit looked like. Mind?"
"Lord, what a line! Maybe you ought to take that jive slick stuff back to John-John, baby. I mean, you two got a date made?"
Ross grinned. "No, although we did just talk about that. I'm trying to kick the habit."
She came up on one elbow. Yeah, she sure did have a lot of tit, all right.
"You serious? You gay and trying to break loose?"
"Something like that."
She shook her head. "That's not easy, boy."
Ross hoped his sigh was convincing.
She didn't even smile. "Well, good luck, man. You ever need help, I'm in three-oh-six. Ross, huh?"
He nodded. "Ross. Who're you?"
She let her gaze sort of roam over his face. She pursed her lips, put her head on one side while she considered, then said, "Beejo Butler."
"Beejo?"
"Yeah. I don't happen to like "Betty Joe okay?"
"Okay, Beejo. Well, so I need help."
She studied him. "You gotta be kiddin."
"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. "Serious. God, you've acted understanding-you prejudiced?"
"Against which, man, shades or homosexuals trying to kick the habit?"
"Either," he said, smiling. "Both."
Her long sigh made her big yellow-clad breasts rise high and drop back with a rippling shudder. Suddenly she wriggled forward.
"Hang onto the edge," she said, gripping him by the ears. She planted a long and warm, lip-moving kiss on his lips.
"There," she said quietly, pulling her head back a few inches. "Feel anything?"
He acted excited. "I ... I think so! Could you do it again?"
"Wow. Listen, you do know how to kiss?" He nodded.
"With boys " she sighed. "All right, try, man!"
He tried. He sent his tongue into her mouth and swirled it about in deep sensual circles. One of her hands slipped off his hair and around to the back of his head. She pressed his face to hers and sucked his deeply engulfed tongue.
She was panting when she broke off, this time. "God damn, man, you sure and hell know how to kiss! How'd it grab you?"
"I liked it," he said enthusiastically. "I think maybe
"Feel yourself," she murmured, studying his blue eyes with her brown ones. "See if you've got a hard-on.
He slipped one hand down into the water, but he didn't put it anywhere near his crotch. He sighed and looked down as if he couldn't meet her gaze. That way he was looking into the deep dark valley between her big swollen-looking tits. They were beautiful, framed within the broad yellow V of her swim suit.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but ... I know I felt something."
"Maybe you're a hopeless case, Ross."
He jerked his head up. "I don't want to be! Couldn't you come up to my apartment, have a drink, kiss some more?"
"Ross, you know what? You are crazy, flat-out crazy!" Then she added, "Yeah."
"I have to get back into my pants," he told her, and he didn't have to check to know his penis was squaring its shoulders. God, what a dishonest son-of-a-bitch lam!
She patted his cheek. "You do that. I got a wrap, right here. Meet you over there." She rolled away, showing him a long naked expanse of beautifully smooth, deeply tan back. Below that was the sudden swell of broad hips and fine buttocks, crushed together in the yellow suit.
Grinning, he turned and stroked across the pool. He grabbed pants and shirt and ran into the little dressing room marked MEN, skinned out of the trunks, toweled his genitals and ass, and pulled on his pants and shirt over nothing but wet body. He walked out and here came Beejo, grinning.
The two Lesbians and poor old John stared at them as they exited.
"I gotta go in your bathroom and get out of this wet suit," Beejo said, as they entered his apartment.
"Right. Want a drink or a beer? Got some gin and some bourbon. Oh, and a bottle of Rhine and some Reishng."
"Some of the wine, thank you," she said, and vanished into the pint-sized bathroom.
He got out of his humid clothes and pulled on the navy velour robe his aunt had made him for Christmas, last year. Then he broke out bottle and glasses and poured two full of Rhine wine. She was in the living room when he turned from the corner that was his kitchen; refrigerator and oven built into the walL fold-down range and table.
"You walk quiet," Ross said.
"Uh-huh. Hey, that's some beautiful robe, man."
"Thanks. My aunt made it for me. I like yours better." Hers was vertically striped, like Joseph's coat, in five shades running from yellow into red and back again. It wrapped, tied, and was short. Her bosom jiggled restlessly inside and he could hardly keep from pulling it open or shoving a hand inside. But he had to stick to his role. He was feeling more of a dishonest s.o.b. by the moment.
"You like it warm?"
She arched an eyebrow at him, then said, "Oh, the wine. Lord, no. Room temperature means a drafty old castle in France or someplace. Drop a cube in, okay?"
He dropped a cube in both glasses. They both drank. Then he bent to kiss her again. She was about five feet three, rounded everywhere, pretty, and wore her hair cropped so close she looked like she'd just got off a boat from Nigeria. He's seen a singer with hair like that on Flip Wilson. Couldn't remember her name. He thought it was sexy; it made her head look small and vulnerable, unprotected by the usual mass of hair. He hated the do's wrongly called Naturals.
They kissed for about a minute, and they got closer, still holding their glasses. He felt the restless surge of her big jugs against his chest, through both their robes. Her hand came up behind his neck. Their tongues swung and crossed and jabbed like wet dueling swords.
She was panting again. "I tell you, Ross baby, you may, ah, be that way, but you have definite possibilities. I mean man you kiss like a regular Don Juan."
"Let's do some more."
She glanced at her wine, then smiled at him and turned it up. He drank his off, too. It wasn't the way to drink wine, but Rhine hardly counted, not at a couple of bucks a bottle. They parked the glasses on the end table and moved onto the couch.
They kissed as if somebody'd just passed a law against it, but it didn't go into effect until midnight. They had less than four hours. Her hand slid inside his robe, roamed his chest, and began playing with his nipples. That was a new one, a woman messing with those silly little buds, and he got a surprise. It was damned good, damned erotic, and a tremor of heated delight shot through him.
They held that kiss for about five minutes. By that time he was hot and she was panting and gasping. Her hand was like a little flame on his chest. The other one was on his back, low, with her arm around his waist.
"My God, man! Lord, that's ... listen, Ross, if you tap out on me after getting me all hotted up like this I may fix you so you won't be interested in either men or women!"
"I like it!" he said, as if that surprised him. "It's wonderful! I like your hand there, too."
"Well then, re-cip-rocate!" And she pinched his nipple.
Ross reached into her robe and groped a big swollen mass of flesh, found its nipple, and tightened thumb and forefinger on it. It doubled its size in seconds, then seemed to double that. Her head fell back and her eyes shuttered.
"Oh God ... just ... keep on ... just a little more...." She slid her hand from around his and thrust it up under her robe.
"Hey, wait...."
"Uh ... uh...."
Ross kept one hand on her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. With the other one, he reached in under her robe, shoved her own fingers aside, and suddenly lost two fingers in a seething hot cavern that grabbed him like a hand in a wet rubber glove.
"Gahhhr she gasped, jerking. "Uh ... you know about the ... uh! You know about the button?"
"Sure," he said, and twisted his fingers on her nipple as he moved his other hand up to her clitoris.
Just like that she came. She jerked, groaned, and sagged loosely.
"Oooohh, man," she sighed, rolling her eyes up to look at him hovered over her. "Oh, baby!"
"Good?"
"Good? Man, you can swing on my porch any day or night!" She turned her head a little onto one side, looking suddenly chastened. "Damn, selfish little Beejo! We didn't come up here to get my rocks off, did we?"
He nodded. "Of course we did. Ours." She couldn't understand he had an erection halfway up to his neck. At least it felt that big.
She smiled and sat up to kiss his cheek. Then she opened her robe's tie and pulled it open. A pair of big pale brown breasts came jumping out like ICBM's with homing devices. They homed on his face as she got up onto her knees on the couch and started trying to smother him in tit.
Her hands slid down under the massive love gourds of her chest and went into his robe to grab the tiny nipples of his. She began working them with both hands.
"Try it," she breathed, moving her shoulders so that one extended dark nipple trailed over his lips, you'll like it!"
He opened his mouth and took it in to try it He loved it. She had a nipple like the last joint of his little finger, minus the nail but so firm it felt as if it had a bone in it. He sucked, hard, and slithered his tongue over it.
She shuddered and went even hotter. Her fingers began pulling and pushing and squeezing his pebbly male nipples.
"Oh," she gasped, "lord! I must have the most sensitive jugs in the country-oh, that's goodl I guess that's what makes me naturally go for yours. Does this hurt?"
"Glaabulb."
She giggled. "God," she said, and leaned down until he was blind and deaf and dumb, his face covered with flowing softly firm tit flesh like great brown pillows. The nipple did its best to screw itself into his throat. He sucked until he had to breathe, then pushed her up and back off his face.
"How's that?" she asked.
"Wonderful!" He was fondling both her breasts. He'd never had such handfuls before.
"Hm. Makes me wonder ... did your mother nurse you?"
"I ... don't know. Is that important?"
She shrugged. Her breasts bounced up out of his hands. He caught them as they shuddered back down.
"I don't know," Beejo said. "I mean you say you're gay and trying to break loose, but you sure do go after girl-kissing, and nipple-sucking like a champ. Maybe your mama didn't give you enough affection and your daddy did or something like that huh?"
His hard-on was trying to tear a hole in the soft velour robe, and he liked the robe too much to have that happen.
He just couldn't go through with it. "Beejo ... I've ... got a confession to make."
"This's your first time with a black chick."
"More than that, but yes, it is."
"Me too, how about that, aren't we beautiful! Oh ... this is your first time with any chick?"
"Beejo, I've got to tell you."
She grinned and jabbed her nails into his nipples so that he groaned and winced.
"You mean like you are a totally heterosexual cat and you laid the word on John swift, not to mention rolling out from under his hand?"
He stared at her.
She grinned wider. "I may be short on experience, but I never saw a couple of gays shake hands before. He tried to make a play and you didn't go for that so you went after the first fe-male you saw."
"Oh God. You must have a computer for a brain."
"No, I've just got one hell of a yen. Now that we've got that out of the way-and congratulations, it takes a man to confess-can we get down to some balling now? You look like you're smuggling a clarinet inside your robe."
He laughed, stood, and whipped it off. "Yeah-h-hh!" she breathed, reaching for his cock. "You, man are about as homosexual as my daddy!"
"Was he a hot one?"
"Must have been. Mama talked about him a lot. Probably still does. Said she'd give up the whole ADC and her left arm if that man'd come back! You want a little mouth on this?"
"To tell you the truth, sweetheart, I just want to lose it in you."
"God, do it!"
She fell back on the couch, smiling deliciously up at him. Her hand pulled. Her body tried to hunch at him. His aching hard-on slapped her pubis, seemed to move over to find its way in, and opened her up.
She sighed and her scalloped inner lips tried to pull damply at the bulbous head of his penis.
Her cunt began to enclose him like warm oil, making his turgid tool throb and grow still more. Little sounds of delight erupted from her throat. She hunched. Her thighs were so widespread, one foot on the couch and one on the floor, that the smooth brown skin rippled with spasmodic tremors.
Then, kneeling on the couch, he pushed, hard. It went boring straight into her, all the way into the pulsing heat of her lush pussy. She was wet inside, all the way.
She pulled a pillow over, doubled it, and crammed it behind her head so she could look down their pelvises. His reddish-brown pubic hairs were entangled with her emphatically black bush. He appeared to have no cock at all, but the lips of her deeply brown vulva were stretched and distended.
"Oh, look at us!" she said, smiling. "Aren't we beautiful? Lord, you look snow-white! Pull it back some, I want to see it and watch it go into me."
He carried out that instruction with great pleasure, easing back onto his heels and pulling five or so inches of his cock out of her, slowly, It glistened slimily with her cunt juice.
"Well I'll ... it's not white at all, not even pink! Man, you've got a red cock! Lover ... do all spooks have red cocks?"
"Do all spades have brown cunts?"
"Nuh-uh. Some are black ... ahhhhhhh, yes!" She gasped out the last, as he let it coast easily back into her open pussy. The moist, clinging inner walls took every bulging inch of powerful prick he fed it.
Propped there with the big balls of her bosom heaving and rolling around on her chest, she watched him pole it in and out of her. They listened to the wet slithery slippery sounds as his cock slicked along her wet, hot, open-mouthed gap. Her gleaming body thrust itself up at him in frantic invitation and demand as he plowed steadily in and out of her in easy going, long strokes.
He reached out to clamp her nipples in his thumbs. Her eyes rolled and she shuddered. Her hands clamped on his wrists, but she was tugging, silently begging for harder pressures, rather than pushing them away. Suddenly she humped hard, twice, ramming herself up so hard his body was jarred by her surges. Then she screamed and fell back. Her head lolled loosely.
"Damn," he said. "Again?"
"Again," she gasped.
"Can you just come like that all night?"
She gave him a lecherous grin. "I know how you can find out ... but I'll bet you can't!"
"Once a king always a king-"
"-but once a knight is enough, yeah I know, lover. We'll see. You just be sure and let me know when the time comes, hmm?" She wiggled, scrooching down on the couch until she lay supine,, gazing languidly up at him. Her big breasts slid sidewise, leaning their weight on her upper arms and surging their nipples upward like acorns.
She stretched up her arms. "Come in me now, lover, and let me feel you."
He leaned forward, keeping himself inside her, and stretched atop her. She sighed in grateful acceptance of his weight. Her belly was a rounded bowl beneath his and her breasts rolled about beneath his chest.
He slipped his hands down and under to grip her naked buttocks. Holding tight to the big satiny demiglobes, he steadied her and lifted her slightly to him. At the same time, she shoved hard with the foot she had pressed on the floor. Again and again they hunched, gorging his heavy cock between her damp brown thighs and deep inside the tight wet haven of her vagina.
She rotated and glided her hips and broad ass in circular jerks that took both concentration and strength, heightening his driving orgasmic needs while she sought her own salacious satisfaction. Their pelvic bushes ground together and exchanged sweat.
She grunted in delighted gratitude for each of his pounding drives into her grasping, oozing pussy.
He began to stiffen. His balls were tight and painfully throbbing, ready to open the sluice gates of his spermatic passion. He began to quiver on the edge of climax.
"Now," he gasped, "coming...."
"Be still!" Wildly, she jammed herself up and down. One foot was pressed firmly against the floor. Her other leg, doubled and rubbing against the back of the couch, strained against it. She bobbed up and down. The wet clasping hole of her cunt whipped slipperily up and down his prick.
She grinned in delight when he stiffened and shuddered and jammed himself hard and deep. She kept pumping.
She did it. Hot semen boiled out the length of his prick into the wet, clutching depths of her straining love pocket. Damp, strongly muscled inner walls milked him thirstily dry.
And she came again, keening out high squeals and clasping him to her with all her might. He felt her breasts, great muscular masses that were being squashed and rammed all out of shape beneath his hard chest.
He reached down and pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of his robe to catch the semen frothing out around his cock and trickling out of her. A semen stained couch might come up when he got ready to leave this place, and it could cost him the hundred dollar deposit.
"Umm, loverman, oh, yes, yeahhh!" she hummed in his ear, holding him close. "I got every drop, every drop, and I love it!"
She sighed. "Yeah. Every time. It's so easy for me ... and the one when I get a bellyful of sperm is the biggest and best." She sighed again, this time rather pensively. "Shame, too. I could go shares with someone I know. She just can't ... well." She squeezed him to her and kissed his face.
"Aren't we beautiful? Man, Archie Bunker oughtta see this," he chuckled.
"You know what?"
"What?" he asked.
"You're not muscle-bound like your dear friend John, but after the big charge blows away, you do get heavy, loverman."
"Sorry. I thought I'd blown half my guts into you."
She chuckled throatily, her body bobbing against his. "No, just the initial spasm. You'll see."
"You said that before. I feel shot."
"We'll see. Come on, loverman, take that six-hundred pound bod off me and let me taste the nice milk on your prick."
He rose from her then, and she scrambled up to do just what she'd said. Finding his handkerchief between the very tops of her thighs, she poked half of ft up into herself and clamped the end between her buttocks. Then she bent her head to his shrunken semen-glistening prick.
She glanced up at him with her mouth an inch away from its head. He felt little gusts of breath over ft with every word she spoke.
"You, uh, want to lay odds I'm not going to get this beautiful pecker back in condition to do me again?"
"You're mighty confident," he smiled.
"Hm. Think about this." She cupped his balls in her palm, tickling with all four fingers. "First it goes into my mouth." She wiggled her tongue at him. "Then I take it from behind."
He smiled. He'd like having those big shining tan cheeks turned up at him, to have and to hold while he lunged against them in a little dog-fucking.
"In the behind," she said, and already his penis started thinking about getting very hard, just as fast as possible.
CHAPTER THREE
At first she sat on the couch, bent forward, while she slipped her lips over his cock and took the entire limp mass into her mouth, pressing her nose into his pubic hair and wiggling her head to make his worm-like organ flop around inside her face.
Then she slid forward off the couch, onto her knees in the classic cocksucking posture. And she sucked his cock. He groaned low in his throat, feeling the gentle contractions of her soft mouth.
Her hands slid up his thighs, clamped onto his buttocks, pulled.
He seized her head and fucked hard into her sweet face. His balls slapped her moistened chin. Steadily, his prick lengthened and expanded in the wet warmth of her mouth. The worm was turning, on its way to being a hard fleshy shaft again.
"Uh!" He grunted when she slid a finger down the crack between his ass cheeks, back up, down again, pushing so that he felt the fingertip pressure at his anus with each glide along the crease. She was now sucking furiously, bobbing her head over his groin. She no longer had all of it in her mouth; it had grown too much for that.
He grunted again, when her finger tickled, pressed, and then sneaked a little way into his asshole. He shivered, standing there with her finger in his anal vestibule and her mouth all hot and wet and snug around his cock. He thought hard, willing his anal sphincter to relax. He could feel her finger, like a hot spike. It hurt, and yet it was good. But he could not believe what she'd said. He wondered-could she, would she really take it, as she'd said, in the behind?
His-cock lurched excitedly in her mouth, and she moaned around it and ran her tongue furiously over the long pulsing staff. Her finger eased a little farther up his ass. The pressure of her mouth around his sweltering meat, the pressure of her finger in his anus, the two of them combined to build a tormenting need that burned deep in his groin.
She wiggled her finger a little deeper, then eased her mouth in a languidly slow caress back off his throbbing prick. It was erect, all right. It looked like a red pole coming out of her face. She rolled her eyes up at him.
"See? Did you know I could make you come like this?" She wiggled her finger.
"A finger wave? No thanks. A doctor did that to me once. It hurt. There are a lot better ways of getting my rocks off than having my prostate tickled!"
She smiled. "There sure are." She sensually tongued the head of his prick. She had to pull it down to her face with her hand. It wanted to bob high, like a proud sentinel standing before his belly. He hunched forward a little, so that the erect pole kissed her soft sweet lips with its moist tip. She kissed it back, licking sensually. Her fingertip wiggled, just inside his tight anal hole. , He looked down at her close-cropped, dark head, watching it push forward and back, up and down. His rigid cockstaff slipped wetly, slowly in and out of her face. Her mouth tried to swallow its full thick length with each complimentary thrust of her head and his hips. He felt her sucking, milking it in strong suctioning pulls that built up the throbbing strength of his cock and built him ever closer to climax.
But neither of them wanted him ,to come to climax this way.
Spewing off down her throat was a delightful thought, but having his prick squeezed up her ass was even more exciting. He realized that he had to take command or he'd never get into it tonight!
He half bent, cupping her face with a hand on each cheek. She rolled her eyes upward to him. Her mouth was spread wide by cock, and even now that he stopped her, she licked the pungent bulb planted in her face.
"That's enough of that," he said quietly. "A little more and I'll go off like a cannon."
She smiled, widened her mouth, and let him watch the slow, spit-shiny emergence of his penis from her mouth. Now it was a swollen, reddened and huge massy pole that stood high before him.
"If you'll dip it in me a time or two," she said, still kneeling, "and get a little of my juice on it, it will go in easily."
Then, remaining on her knees, she turned around. She pulled her open robe the rest of the way off. He gazed down at the big soft-looking swells of her buttocks, broad and well parted with a deep crevasse, humping up and out above her thighs. He caught his breath. The bulging mounds of her deeply tan ass presented a lust-inspiring sight that tightened his throat and made his prick throb in anticipation.
She spread her knees to open her thighs still more. Squatting behind her, he smiled at the downward bulge of her pubis, a long black-tufted ridge with slightly parted, dark lips. He reached between her thighs to cup it, feeling its furry softness against his palm and fingers, noting her gasping inhalation and her little shiver.
Sliding one finger between those soft, sensual folds, he let it make its own slow way up into her. She opened her thighs still more, with a little sigh. Working to make her extremely wet, he used three fingers to stretch wide the warm supple lips of her belly.
Then he slid it in and out, a dozen times, making her squirm and roll her hips. Shudders ran through the voluptuous flesh of her broad butt. He slipped his finger out of her, swiped it up the crack between the opened cheeks. They clamped him, then eased apart again. He let the finger slide back down the long slick-skinned crease and again plunged up her cunt.
He did that again and again, smearing her ass crease with the juice of her agitated pussy.
Then he slipped forward and, in an instant, had his prick up between the lips and into her warm, very wet vagina.
He pumped it a few times, slowly, making her groan and sigh and shiver. Her palms were flat against the rug. Her naked breasts swung long and low beneath her. She lowered her head until her cheek was against the rug, then doubled her elbows to frame her head and support herself on her forearms. That way she arched her buttocks to expose herself still further. She was beginning to pant with pleasure and anticipation.
He pulled his prick out of her cunt and set it against the tiny puckered eye of her anus. He pushed.
"Uh ... ummm!" she gasped, tensing automatically, then swiftly exerting mind over matter to relax both her cheeks and the long thin internal tube between her brown masses.
He watched the head of his penis vanish into her, marveling at the magnificent expandable power of the muscles that held that hole so tight-shut it didn't even appear to be a hole, but that now relaxed and opened up to admit the bulging knob of his ardent prick.
More of his thick, turgid meat went into her.
Her glove-tight asshole was excruciatingly tight, a tightness that sent fiery tingles through his balls. Yet, even though moaning and whimpering, she pushed back against him.
The long soft tunnel of her asshole oozed hotly back along his cock. That hungry channel of soft heat squeezed him and held his as though intent of crushing him inside her. Sexual arousal and absolute delight coursed hotly through him.
Then a toothless inner mouth seemed to chomp his prick. He groaned aloud. His hands fell to clasp the bulging outermost contours of her buttocks. She trembled and jerked and wagged her hips, clenching and unclenching the round fullness of her buttocks, bucking back to him.
Her eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. She loved the gloriously, rather masochistic sensations that rippled through her as she knelt, face down and ass high, to be fucked up the rear. She sighed, feeling that outsized bludgeon seem to thunder up her back to pummel her body's warm, secret rectal depths.
He was moving, now, sliding in and out. His balls nestled into the bottom of the long valley, nudging and slapping her perineum. She pictured them, ah" pretty and pink, thumping against her brown body.
He withdrew in a long, slow backstroke, until only the thick head of his cock was within her tight anal ring. Moaning, sighing, she wiggled just a little, waiting for it to come in again. The tight liver-colored bud flexed against another ramrod lunge.
It came. His big prick invaded a channel never expanded to its fullest capacity. The force of the deep stroke ground her big soft tits into the rug.
His cock throbbed in her. It was engulfed by her flesh, all the way up her ass.
He pumped.
The cheeks of her rump tightened and loosened, tensed and relaxed as he pumped between them. He" gorged her with every inch of his imbedded penis and straightened the hot passage out into a long humid sheath for it. He knew from her movements and the sounds she made that ecstasy was coursing through her, that she loved it, loved kneeling there with an asshole full of cock.
He paused to reach around and beneath her so that he could mold her big dangling breasts with both hands. He titillated the nipples, making them even fatter and longer than they already were, and she grunted in helpless sensual response. She began moving, just slightly, rocking a little forward and then pushing back, grinding, and then forward again.
Leaning over her back, he slid one hand down from her tits, over her belly, to the empty gap of her pubis.
She wriggled. Her body rippled with delicious tingles of pure excitement.
He remembered the combination. He squeezed her nipple and rolled her clitoris.
"God ... you'll knock me completely ... out ... ah ... ah ... SLaahhhinmmm!"
And she came. The same involuntary spasms that contracted her vagina squeezed her rectal canal all around his prick. It was his turn to groan and shudder.
Then he creamed her asshole totally full of semen and slipped out and back. As he sagged weakly to the floor behind and beside her, he could see the tight, intense squeezing of her anus. Suddenly a whitish trickle of fluid came trickling out and ran slowly down.
He slid an arm over her and she pressed against him, lying on the floor.
"God," she said, "you've worn me out!"
"God," he said with a grin, "you've worn me out!"
"Can ... can I stay? I don't have to work tomorrow."
"I do, but yes, please stay. Come on, let's get ourselves together and do this cuddling in bed where it feels better and we can just drift off."
CHAPTER FOUR
She was asleep when he awoke, moving lazily and warmly, and he left her there while he got ready and went to work. He thought about her a great deal, and the fact that she was black and he white-or rather, he told himself, she's brown and I'm pink. Also the fact that he was crazy about long hair but that hers was shorter than short, no more than an inch long all over her head, and that tightly curled, like a tight-fitting cap of black fleece. Also that she was big, with thick round thighs and broad ass and hips, and with a definitely soft and rounded belly punched with a deep round navel-and his generation was supposed to groove on the skinny girls you always saw doing TV commercials.
It was all strange, he thought, and he pretended to. be going over papers very thoroughly, while watching Henrietta/Hank Aldiss walking through the office. En route to get her boss a sandwich or two for lunch, he supposed. As far as Hochstadter was concerned, a secretary was a personal servant who did whatever the hell he said, and fast.
Watching her with her slimly female body and long red hair and long legs, Ross contrasted her with Beejo.
I must be nuts, he thought. I should think one of 'em's ugly. They're about as unlike as two women can get!
But he didn't. He thought they were both just beautiful. Maybe not facially beautiful as Elizabeth Taylor had taught the world to define it, but beautiful inside, beautiful in their very different forms and in their easy going confidence and liberated sexuality.
Hangups? He didn't know. True, Beejo came at the twitch of a clit, but that couldn't be called a hang-up! Oh yes, and there was the bit of strangeness about Hank: at the last minute she'd wanted to be directed, seduced, forced, treated a bit roughly. But that didn't seem to Ross Stender to be anything like a scar on her mind. Just something in her childhood or early adolescence, her first sexual experience, maybe. So what?
He looked around, and began taking notice of the other girls in the office. Julia, who always flirted with him. Easy. But ... Julia was fat, and she was a blabbermouth. Not a casual, easy going talker, like Beejo, who was so relaxed and comfortable in a sexual situation that she could talk about it and state her desires. And not just, uh, large, plump, like Beejo, either. Fat, that's what Julia was.
Or Rosemary. He hadn't seen her in awhile. They'd almost had a Thing going, once. Her problem was that she was not only Saving It, she couldn't even carry on a decent conversation. All she had going for her was a fine bod, which as far as he was concerned was very definitely not enough.
It doesn't depend on bodies, he thought.
Yeah, well, maybe I'm a little hungup or prejudiced, though ... damnit, I don't dig fat Julia! I'm not even curious enough to wonder what she'd look like naked, and I get the impression she'd get that way pretty fast for me!
The ones that want you and will, he mused, are the ones you don't want. You always want the ones who....
Don't be an asshole, he told himself. Where's that put Beejo and Hank? Then he wondered: Hey, why didn't I think Hank and Beejo?
"Ross? Got those sales figures ready?"
Ross dragged himself smoothly back to the office and the work at hand. He'd been staring at a handful of papers without seeing them at all.
"I sure have," he said, glancing sidewise at Luscher's pants leg. "I'd like to run 'em through the calculator again though, to be certain."
"Hoch wants 'em at two, on the button."
Ross glanced at his watch. "You'll have 'em in ten minutes, Leo. After that it's up to you."
Luscher patted his shoulder. "Swell, Ross, swell. Bring 'em right on in when you've checked 'em out, okay?"
"Right," Ross said, and he spent the rest of the day thinking about work rather than women.
He liked the job and better than that, the money, and better than that, the apartment in the Heston Building. And better than that, the women in the Heston Building.
Beejo wasn't there when he got home, but she certainly had been. Not only was the bed made, but the joint had been straightened up. Ross had a nice warm feeling for her, and tried to call her. She'd said she was in 306, he remembered. But she didn't answer her phone. He wondered what she did. It didn't matter. He had a fleeting thought that maybe she was a hooker, but he knew that was silly-she wouldn't have been lying there at the edge of the private pool in this building! He felt ashamed of the thought and punished himself by reading three straight company reports. That was enough to put him to sleep.
As the week moved along, he checked in with Beejo: busy Saturday night, why didn't you call sooner? And with Hank: the same. He telephoned Rosemary, who wanted to act all hurt that she hadn't heard from him for several weeks.
"How's your new apartment?"
"It's great! Want to come over and see it?"
"You're not getting me into a bachelor's apartment, Ross Stender!" Rosemary said, and the trouble was, she meant it.
So he took her out and fed her, Saturday night, and they sort of wandered, trying to think of what to do, and he took her to a nothing movie and kissed her good night at her door, wow.
That's what he thought about all the way home. Wow.
How childish that ole-time shit is, he told himself. Lord, all the formalities! Make the woman feel on top by phoning in advance for an appointment, eat on your money, go do whatever-it-is on your money, take her home. Maybe neck a little. Kiss her good night. Wow. Playing the Game.
It not only wasn't enough, after meeting Women rather than girls and gaining a little experience, but it was just stupid. Childish.
Daring's probably dead, he told himself. Killed by TV, and the pill, and education, and even Steinem.
He and a couple of beers and one of the unread books Mason had left, along with Ross' right hand, put him to sleep.
Next afternoon he tried to call Hank and got a busy signal. Dumb, he told himself. Christ, she's just down the hall!
He went down the hall, started to knock, then thought that if she were on the phone, it would be a shame to interrupt her. But he had already touched the door. It was ajar. With the faintest of clicks, it swung slowly inward. He wasn't peeping or anything, not really, but after all he couldn't help looking in.
He squinted. The drapes were pulled. The bed was still down. No one was talking on the telephone. And there was someone in the bed....
There were two someones in the bed, or on it. He stared.
"Well, m be damned and double-damned! he thought.
The two bodies on the bed belonged to "his" women. Hank, very pale against the larger body she was entwined with. Beejo, darker than she was, because of the room's dimness and the contrast with the other woman.
He succumbed to a wicked, ignoble impulse. If he hadn't, he'd have kicked himself forever.
He slipped through the door and closed it as silently as he could. Then he eased over behind the big chair and sort of crouched, so that only his head and shoulders were visible above the chair. What little light there was in the room, filtering in at the edge of the drapes, fell on the coupled girls. Even if they look up, he thought, they're not likely to see me.
And if they do ... so what! I'll say "Hi."
So he watched.
They were merely kissing, now, both of them naked, with their arms around each other and their bodies rubbing.
Then: "Oh, Beejo, that was lovely!" Hank's voice.
Beejo just made a throaty noise of agreement and rubbed the other girl's naked bottom. Ross watched it stir, tighten, press into the dark hands.
"Beejo ... ummm ... so nice ... Beejo ... do it again!"
Beejo chuckled. Ross thought of those big tawny tits heaving and rubbing against Hank's breasts. It was a nice thought, although he'd rather have had either rubbing against him.
"Everything?"
"Would you, Beejo? I'll ... be very nice, after."
Beejo lifted one hand and slapped the other girl's buttock, again chuckling. Ross noted that Hank's jerking movements was almost a convulsion. She burrowed against her Lesbian lover.
"Okay," she said, "you get up and go in the bathroom. I'll call you."
Hank started squirming, and Ross squatted swiftly. He didn't even hear her footfalls as she went into the bathroom. But he did hear the water run, briefly. Then Beejo's voice called out, very sternly.
"Henrietta! You brattish girl-get your tail in here immediately!"
Ross raised his eyebrows. They were maybe putting on a play?
He peeped out and around the side of the chair. Here came Hank, tits joggling, walking out of the bathroom. Her head was down and she was holding a towel in front of her pelvis; otherwise she was naked.
Beejo sat on the edge of the bed, in profile to Ross. Good, he thought, watching her slap her thigh. "Right here, Miss!" she snapped. "I ... I ... I'm sorry, Beejo."
"BEEJO! What the hell you mean, calling me that, you little brat! My name's Leona, and see that you don't forget it. Now drop that towel, Miss, and show your shame! I know you've been playing with yourself again!"
"Please...." Hank whimpered, in a tiny voice. "Henrietta Aldiss!"
Quivering, sniffling like a child, Hank dropped the towel. For a moment she covered her pubes with her hands, then put them behind her back. Standing there with her head down, she looked small and naked and defenseless, very submissive. Ross licked his lips.
"All right now. Get yourself across my thighs right now, little girl, and turn your naughty bottom up to be whipped!"
"Oh, please, Leona ... don't hurt me ... not too many...."
Beejo/Leona reached around and slapped the standing girl's bottom. Hank squealed and jerked forward away from the sharply smacking hand.
Then, while Ross stared with slitted eyes and rising inner excitement, the girl stepped up beside Leona's thighs, with her back to him. Slowly, she bent forward. He was staring at her naked, upturned bottom. It was very pretty, just as he remembered it, pink and nicely cloven and round, firm-looking of cheek. He knew those pads of flesh were just as firm as they looked, too.
"First," Beejo said, running her hand up and down the girl's upturned buttocks and down onto her thigh and up again. "First, just a little warm up."
"Oh ... oh, Leona ... don't ... don't hit me too hard ... "
Ross stood slowly so that he could again peer over the top of the big chair He had a perfect view of Beejo, seated on the edge of the bed, her big bumcheeks spread and flattened by the pressure of her body. Her breasts ran down and out before her, bobbing. Hank lay across her thighs, facing away from Ross, so that he was staring straight at the jutting pinkness of her lissome ass and the long glorious cleavage between the two close-pressed mounds.
Beejo started swatting them.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap ... rapid up-and-down movements of her hand, five times on the left buttock and then three on the right and two on the left and five on the right and five more on the left and ten straight right across the crack, catching both cheeks, which were straining together against the steady tapping. It was far from a serious slapping, Ross realized, even as he silently kept track of the taps.
By the time Beejo had finished that warm up, though, he could see that Hank's ass had taken on a deeper pink glow and the lovely rounded demiglobes were quivering and straining together. Hank whimpered steadily, though she had not cried out. There had been no reason. She hadn't been hit hard. First, just a little warm up....
Wow, Ross thought, Beejo meant that!
Her arm swung up. It swung high, and it came down fast and hard. The noise the splayed palm made when it intersected the other girl's butt was loud in the silent, dim room.
"YOWWWCH!" Hank cried out. She lunged forward at the impact of hand on cheek. But Beejo's other hand, planted firmly in the small of the girl's back, held her firmly in place across her thighs.
Even in the dimness, Ross could see that naked ass tightening fearfully.
"Bare-handed whipping isn't much," Beejo said. "But I'll try to let you feel them, little miss!"
"Oh, oh please, Leona," Hank said, and her voice was distinctly different, like a younger girl's, "don't hurt my poor rumpus too much."
"Hush, child," Beejo said gruffly, and she began administering the punishment. "Count them off, girl, you wouldn't want to get too many!"
"OWWW! T-two! Oh Leona ... yowchhhhhr She made a sobbing sound. "Three!"
The girl kicked and jerked wildly, but her stern spanker pinned her helplessly into enforced submission. The pretty bottom tensed as she raised her hand again, then jumped when the blow landed directly on the rounded left cheek.
"Uh! Four!"
Then she had to count fast, as "Leona" gave the jerking bobbing bottom a series of rapid-fire slaps, all on the precise summit of one cheek. Ross listened, and watched, and it was exciting., Beejo's palm fell with a sound like a leather strap. The girl across her large naked thighs quivered and jerked and squealed and whimpered out the blow-count. The hard slaps left livid marks across the soft, creamy ovals. They quivered with convulsive little tremors, and Ross was sure they felt afire.
More slaps, the hand descending sharply on to the quivering, now-reddened cheeks of that mortified ass. More squeals, and now Hank was steadily sobbing.
And she asked for this, Ross thought. She practically begged for it! She really likes it!
Suddenly he grinned. Hey ... I'll bet ole Beejo's enjoying it, too!
And so would he....
He watched. Hank's naked, doubtless burning haunches jumped and tensed and quivered. Beejo's arm rose up and down. Her breasts jumped wildly, flipping and flopping about, and she was leaking perspiration from under her spanking arm.
Again her hand cracked down onto the swollen, reddened ass, making it sting and quiver.
Ross stood there watching, wearing an avid expression and wide eyes-and a hard-on. All he could see was the superb trembling haunches that so obediently offered themselves, and now, he thought, they were all red and hurting, maybe bruised. He wondered. Would there be bruises tomorrow? Little marks?
Now it was time for the final slap. Hank was weeping steadily, without control, with little hiccupping gasps. She lay there, held firmly in place, twisting her helpless bottom about in nervous apprehension and pain. It was a deep, glowing red.
Beejo arched and cranked her arm as she swung. That way the flat-held palm slapped just at the very base of both cheeks, slapping straight in rather than down. The smack was very loud. Ross grinned; he saw Beejo wince, then shake her hand. Hank, knocked nearly off her whipper's thighs with the force and angle of the blow, screamed.
But now Beejo was spitting in her hands and laving the other woman's burning butt with them, stroking softly and smoothly.
"Oh, Leona ... hurts!"
"Uh-hm. Are you going to be a good little girl, now?"
"Oh yes, Leona, I promise!"
"And are we going to tell mommy and daddy about this and maybe get another spanking from them?"
"Oh no, no, Leona, please don't ... I won't tell, really I won't, Leona!"
"All right, " Beejo said, still smoothing her hands over the girl's chastised cheeks, assuaging their burning sting with a slippery film of her own saliva. "And what will my sweet girl do for Leona, then?"
"I ... m lick you, Leona darling. Would you let me lick your pussy, Leona, would you? And ... and you can play with me. It'll be so fun," Hank said, her voice and words still imitating herself when she'd been younger. "Won't it, Leona?"
"Yes-s-s, baby. And Leona won't tell. Come now, hop up and start licking your Leona."
Wow, Ross thought. Hank's parents used to have a maid, maybe, or else she had a sister-Leona. Maybe it was a black maid, hmm? And they were gone a lot, the parents. So Leona punished the girl-and then they played Lesbian games. She got the girl to lick her-that bitch, Leona! So ... Hank's imprinted. Sex means whipping and whipping means sex!
Damnit, he thought, why didn't she tell me? I'd have been glad to smack that sexy ass of hers!
He stood there and watched. Hell, he mused, I'd have been glad to let her do that, too.
Beejo had opened her thighs wide, her hips twitching and trembling, beckoning. Kneeling between her spread legs, the other girl caressed them. Then she fitted her mouth to the burning lips of the bigger woman's moist slit and began to eat her.
Ross' groin tightened up and his penis throbbed painfully against his briefs. He could hear more than he could see, now: soft kissing and slurping sounds.
But he could imagine the little details he wasn't actually seeing.
Again and again the kneeling white girl dipped her tongue into the hot trove of her friend's treasure, until the black girl's eyes filmed over with passion and she began to hunch her cunt to the other's face.
Ross could see Beejo's hands going down, playing with Hank's tits. The kneeling woman trembled and sighed and tongued that hot, slippery, dribbling black cunt. Beejo groaned and shuddered. Her big breasts seemed trying to jump free of her chest. Her slick inner juice was aflow, wetting the lips and the curly black tendrils of her pubic fur.
Her thighs quivered and jerked, lowering, then raising her knees again to rub her cheeks and try to pull the beloved mouth forward still more, seeking the hot wet drive of her tongue into her sliming depths.
Ross stood there and stared in excited fascination. This was one of the most arousing scenes he'd ever even thought of seeing. He knew that he had to get his cock into one of them, sooner or later tonight. Tonight? he thought, remembering. Hell, this is Sunday, and it's not even four in the afternoon yet!
The girl so submissively on her knees sent her tongue flicking between the other's slightly parted lips. Pink tongue, jabbing in and out between black-furred, deeply brown pussy lips.
"God," Beejo gasped, bending forward and sliding her hands into Hank's armpits. "That's all of that I can stand ... come up here and let me taste you a bit too, darling."
She pulled Hank up onto the bed. They flopped, and then Ross was treated to the sound of bobbing butts and gaping ass cheeks, winking cracks and swinging, jiggling tits as the two women crawled around to get into the old sixty-nine position.
Each set her tongue against the soft-lipped pussy opening and pressed it slickly inside. Pink lips kissed black. Black lips kissed pink labia.
Each began wiggling her tongue and stabbing it in and out until both were writhing in ecstasy. Seeing the humping tightening jerks of their springy rump cheeks, Ross knew that each was swirling her tongue around and around the strong little clitoral bud of the other's vulva.
They squeezed and pressed each other's beautiful twitching, juddering buttocks. Their fingers slipped teasingly into the sweaty cracks between those shivering cheeks. Fingers leaped to squeeze and lovingly press swollen breasts and tweak their nipples. Wet warm mouths sucked warm wet cunts. Tongues speared, wiggling, twitching over twitching clits. They groaned and writhed in the helpless throes of sexuality....
And then of coming. Hank let out a violent loud yell that made Ross jerk so he was afraid he'd made enough noise to be discovered.
Her tongue rammed onto the dark clitoris before her face and her finger speared into a wet, accepting asshole and her fingers clamped on a swollen nipple as she came, jerking.
And so did Beejo, instantly.
Jesus, Ross thought.
They drifted apart, flopping on the violently rumpled bed with flopping tits and gaping, gasping mouths. They lay there a long long while, streaming perspiration and sighing. Ross was helplessly stroking his cock through his pants.
Now's the time, he thought, for a cruel and crude interruption. Get ready, my darling Lesbian lovers, here comes cock!
"Oh god, Beejo, oh god damn, it's so damned goo-ood!"
"Yeah," Beejo sighed, but somehow she sounded a little tight, rather than loose with orgasm.
"Oh, poor Beejo," Hank sighed, scrambling onto her side to grope the other woman. "My poor darling sweet Beejo-you just can't, can you?"
Ross had already started for the light switch, edging along in the dimness. First he'd snap the light on, then he'd....
"No," Beejo said. "Damnit, I'm sorry. I ... I gotta go, honey. I've got to. Lord, I need ... I've got to have cock!"
Hank giggled. "Wouldn't it be nice!"
"You too?" Beejo asked, stroking Hank's hip.
Ross froze.
Hank sighed. "Not really. I've ... I've never come with a man yet. Damnit! I always have to pretend ... oh it's good, I like it, I'm afraid I just can't be a Lesbian ... but ... I can't. I haven't.
"Poor baby," Beejo said. She stroked the other woman awhile. Then, "Well, damnit, it isn't as if we were lezzes and you'll be jealous, or anything. I'm sorry, honey, I gotta go get some. I need a piece of man ... and I know where there's some beautiful cock, and it's closer.
Grinning, Ross thumped the door and flicked on the overhead light. It wasn't quite as dramatic as it might have been; the light was very dim, and it was colored, a pale orange glow that they should've had on the whole time.
"Will this one do?" he called, waving a lot of hard thick redheaded prong before four staring, horrified eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Oh my God!" Henrietta Aldiss squeaked, and she jerked the sheet up over her, all the way to the neck.
"Oh no!" Betty Jo Buder groaned. Her eyes went from his cock to his face and back to the big hard penis again. "How long have you been there, you bastard?"
"Oh please, Leona," Ross Stender said, in a squeaky falsetto voice, "don't hurt me ... not too many...."
"A-a-a-a-ahhhgggggr Hank groaned, and pulled the sheet completely over her head.
"Jesus," Beejo said in a small voice. "You bastard!"
"You bitch! You bitches! You Lesbianizing sluts ... did you know old man Heston is a redneck bigot and that number five of the rules of this building forbids what you've just been doing?"
"It forbids all sexing in here, you bastard!" Beejo snapped. "What about what you and I did the other night?"
Down came the sheet; up came Hank's head. "What you and he did!"
The two recent lovers looked at each other. Slowly, with dawning realization, their eyes turned upon Ross. He could practically see the light bulbs over their heads. Again Beejo and Hank looked at each other. Again they looked at him.
He tried to look cool.
"You put on a good act, Hank," Ross said. "I thought you did come."
"Oh god," she squeaked, and flopped down and pulled the sheet up over her head again. The sheet quivered violently.
Beejo had made absolutely no effort to cover herself or the big naked jumping jugs standing before her. Suddenly she pointed a finger.
"You-you've been here all the time? God, you sneaked in here and spied on us? You low bastard!"
He put a hand over his heart. "I swear it wasn't deliberate. The door not only wasn't locked, it wasn't even closed." He pointed at the phone. "You two took the phone off the hook so your Lesbianizing wouldn't be interrupted. I tried to call Hank, got a busy signal, and thought how silly it was to telephone somebody just down the hall. I came down, but when I started to knock the door swung open. I started seeing things. You're lucky it's me! Anyhow ... come on, can you blame me for staying to watch such a beautiful scene? Would I have been a man if I'd been able to walk away from two beautiful bodies loving each other?"
She sat there naked, staring at him with deeply brown eyes.
"No," she admitted. "Hell no, and there's a compliment, Hank, in case you missed it. But ... oh hell! You heard me say what I needed. Your place or mine?"
"Right," Ross said, "here."
The sheet-covered lump beside her on the bed became wildly agitated. It seemed to be possessed of seventeen arms and legs, all working at once. Then Hank's head appeared.
"You get out of here!"
"Hank, honey," Ross asked, "how'd you like to be blackmailed?"
Instantly Hank's eyes flickered. She knew what he meant. The world was full of bigots, and rednecks weren't limited to below the Mason-Dixon. Hochstadter, for instance. Her boss.
But it was Beejo who answered. "Hell with that. This black female wants herself white-maled!" She stretched out her arms.
"Heyyy...." Hank said, but in a devitalized voice as Ross came across her room to her bed, peeling as he moved.
Naked, he came around the bed and clambered aboard. Beejo smiled happily and broadly. She moved hot and trembling and sweat-slick into his arms, pressing and urging herself to him. The force of his arrival sprawled her backward on Hank's bed. Hank grunted when Beejo's head thumped her thigh. Beejo didn't seen to notice.
Beejo's lithe, muscularly voluptuously body writhed against his, hunching in a wanton titillation of his desires. He felt a sharp twinge in his heavy-laden scrotum. He had been watching an exciting scene and nursing a growing hard-on for a long time.
They were locked together, kissing and wriggling on the already rumpled bed, rubbing their crotches against each other so that his cock kissed her belly again and again.
Then the swollen head of his sex nosed its way into her so easily that they hardly noticed until her flesh was stretching around his. She trembled and sighed, gripping him more tightly, pulling him in.
He gave his hips a swift little jerk, and his cock was imbedded deep in her wet hot vagina. The humid walls caressed and squeezed its full throbbing length. He groaned with the poignant pleasure of it, hunching with great energy while she humped back, grinding together in a sheer gut-twisting pussy-stroking pleasure.
He drove into the wildly impassioned, bronze body, holding onto her naked hips and pumping into her swampy cunt. His body pounded down on hers. His thrusting toes furled and ridged the sheet and coverlet. His prick whipped in and out of the warm and pulsing lips of her cunt like a closely fitted piston.
She was far from Idle, beneath him. Her body thrust up at him. She moaned constantly. She was writhing and drumming her heels in a chaotic response to lust Her fingers clutched feverishly at his hips, his waist, his clenched buttocks. She rammed herself hard onto the sleek slick shaft she wore imbedded in herself.
His big cock seared the long tight tunnel, digging deeper and deeper. He watched her eyes widen and gleam with inner flames.
Abruptly she opened her legs wide and then jerked them up over his back. She locked them there, urging and goading him on and on.
Her stiff-nippled tits were like silken pillows beneath his chest. By contrast, her arms and locked legs gripped him like vises, making sure he remained engulfed deeply in the rising heat of her body.
Beside them on her bed, the other girl stared with large eyes. Excitement grew in them. She heard their grunting gasps and moans. She saw their tensing, grinding bodies and his humping ass. She could smell the odor of aroused sexuality. Hank licked her lips.
His poking throbbing cock was engulfed in the gap between the thighs Hank had so recently licked, filling her friend's belly..
"This is ... good," he gasped, crushed against her. "But ... well play hell ... coming this way!"
"Who ... wants to ... come...." she gasped back She jiggled her hips to make his perule shaft wiggle in her.
He grinned and wiggled his own hips.
Suddenly: "I do!" she squealed, and she released him.
Instantly he began hammering his body down into hers with hard, slamming blows. Almost painful shocks tore through her pelvis. Again and again he drove into her, to the roots, and she squealed in an ecstasy of delight and undiluted passion under the impalement of that massive, slippery cock. Her hands became claws that raked over his back in the heat and turbulence of her soaring sensuality.
His hands slid under her. He cupped the tight full pads of her ass, helping her to bounce up and down.
She was groaning and flailing her head. Her eyes were glazed as she hunched, screwing the deep hollow of her vaginal channel up his hard length. Her frenetic movements beneath him built an unbearable tight tension that was a sizzling pressure in his balls.
He let one hand slide in under the bulge of one sweat slick, tan buttock until he found the hot crack. It was slick with perspiration. She squealed when a rigid finger entered her. Her hips began jerking forward and up in rapid movements as he ran his finger up her asshole.
The hard driving of his body on top rammed hers down to spread around the finger below. She was impaled in cunt and rectum, fucked from both directions at once, both holes filled and sliding on hard shafts.
Cries erupted from her throat. She squealed and gasped and tried to smile at her inspired and imaginative lover.
Each of his jerks impaled her rectum to his knuckles and shoved the whole length of his cock up her vagina. He could feel the hardness of his own finger against the sensitive undersurface of his cock, separated only by the thinnest of inner membranous tissues. He groaned and his body trembled and his hands slithered about beneath her, poking her asshole and grasping the voluptuous curves of her buttocks.
She tightened them and hunched as he pulled.
His balls began to feel as if they were clutched in hot pliers.
The hot semen loading them built and seethed to blow out the constrictive sanctuary of his scrotum. His semen started throbbing warmly into her. His hips jerked in a series of shuddering convulsions that spurted it up into her pussy.
Then a slim arm passed across his vision. A hand, looking very pale pink against the upsurging tawny mound of Beejo's big breast, fell upon it Fingers took the erect brown nipple in their grip. Pulling and squeezing, they worked it. Another spurt of semen rammed up into Beejo's cunt.
Then she screamed, as Hank pinched her nipple and Ross spurted into her and ground his pelvic bone against her clit. Beejo came.
"You ... darlings," she gasped. She patted Hank's flank with one hand.
Ross reached a hand up and around Hank's waist and pulled the redhead down with them. "You darling," he said, and he sagged down to pillow himself on the fully voluptuous body he had just pumped full of his seminal cream.
The three of them lay there together in a spaghetti-entwined mass while Beejo and Ross let their engines run slowly down. Their breathing began to normalize and the sweat on their bodies began to evaporate.
"Ummmm," Ross hummed, mouthing Beejo's breast.
Hank extricated herself from his embrace and the bed bounced as she moved backward along the bed, along his body.
Then Hank's open palm came down, hard and sharply smacking, on his buttocks.
"Yhaoww!" he cried, as much in surprise as in smarting pain. He lurched violently.
"Be still, darling," Beejo chuckled. And then her arms clamped him, holding him tightly against her. He well remembered her strength. Her calves folded over his. "Bite or wiggle too much and I'll smother you in tit!" She squeezed her arms across his back, pressing his face firmly into her over extensively bosomed chest Their corpulent soft beauty rose up about his face like satiny pillows. They blinded him, threatening to cut off his breathing.
Hank swung hard slaps down onto each of his hind cheeks, one on each in rapid succession. He groaned and lurched and opened his mouth to bite into Beejo's tit.
Half twisting onto her side, she shoved it into his face, and suddenly his nose was blocked and his mouth filled with far too much of her grandiose love gourds to bite into the flesh that was firmer than it seemed, in the loose softness of its skin. She'd also given him too much faceful of tit for him to breathe at all.
His attempt to hurl himself off her, even roll them to the floor, was blocked by Hank's sudden new maneuver: she launched herself full along his back. Her legs were stretched out on either side of his, which were still clamped in Beejo's. He felt the curling triangle of Hank's red-pelted love mound grinding against his butt.
"Uh!" Beejo grunted. "Easy, Hank! God, I'm not made of iron, down here!"
"Sorry," Hank hissed, through her teeth. "But it's a cinch we've got ourselves a prisoner of war! This bastard snuck in here and played peeping Tom while you spanked me and while we ... made love. He sure and hell deserves some punishment!"
"Aow ... get your fingernails out of my skin, Ross baby, or you'll stay here between my tits until you pass out from lack of air. Having trouble breathing, sweetheart?"
Ross jerked and twitched with all the violence he could muster. It wasn't enough. They had him, humiliatingly, in their velvet clutches. He knew they were only playing, horsing around, but he was getting weak from lack of air and a little hum was commencing to fill his head.
Now Hank was moving, hunching her cunt against his ass in an action that found its reaction in the enforced grinding of his spent cock against the other woman's lower belly and hairy vulva.
"Smothered to death in tit," his friend Dave had used to say. "Whatta way to go!"
Like hell, Dave, you shit, Ross thought. You oughtbe here now!
"I think he should get the same I got," Hank said, wiggling around on him to increase his discomfort. Of course that also increased Beejo's, and she moaned and grunted. But at least he could breathe! Hank's mouth was close to his ear as she went on. "About thirty good hand-whops on the butt, don't you think, Beejo?"
Ross writhed and twisted wildly. Again he tried to bite the great mass of tit flesh that mashed his nose and held his mouth open. He couldn't. There was too damned much of it.
"I guess that might do," Beejo chuckled huskily. Her own breath was half cut off, by their combined weights on her supine body. But she was determined to take it, for the sake of the exciting activity of making a male helpless and submissive.
"Yeah, thirty on his muscular little ass ought to be about right. Ross? Listen, baby, you better agree, or you're gonna pass out. Head roaring? Feel giddy, baby? Open your hands, both of them, if you agree."
Ross tried again to fight, tried desperately to breathe.
Then he stretched all ten fingers straight out.
Immediately Hank rose from her prone position along his back. She sat astride him, just above his buttocks. And Beejo eased up the pressure of her arms. Her tits quivered away and Ross dragged in a deep gasping breath.
He thought of about twenty things to say, but he said none of them. Right now, he thought, I could bust loose and cream both of them. But-they did get me, even if it was totally by surprise and when I was weak from orgasm. It wouldn't be-honorable. (What an asshole idea.).
"You want to do it, Beejo?" Hank asked. "You're stronger."
"I ... uh I...." Beejo broke off. Then she said, stroking his head, "Nah, honey. I just ... don't want to ... spank a man."
"Chickenshit," Hank said. "O-okay then, Ross. Get ready for thirty of the best!"
I'd better get off you, Beejo," Ross said. Yes, he'd go along. I'm liable to do some pretty wild jerking around, and I don't want to hurt you."
"Ooohh, baby, loverman," she crooned, and kissed his head. "O lord, Hank, listen to the beautiful sweet guy ... let's forget it! Come on ... you LIKE to be swatted on the ass. Ross may not have had a nigger maid who used to spank him when he was a kid."
"But I want to!" Hank wailed, almost pitifully.
"All right then, Hank, goddamnit," Ross snapped, "Do it!"
Hank did it. She did it, obviously, with a fascinated gusto. She was imprinted, just as he'd thought, a black maid having equated spanking with sexual satiation in Hank's mind. She loved to be spanked; she needed it. But now she was learning how it felt to swat someone else's naked ass, and she was cross-identifying as she kneeled behind him and turned his small, muscular buttocks red with her slapping palms.
It hurt. Ross had not felt anything like this since he was eight years old. And even then, although it had been his strong father, his whippings had been administered with his pants on. Now he was naked, and he had neither the needs nor the high pain threshold of the naked redhead who smacked his hind cheeks.
Shock wave after shock wave of flaring pain split his loins, blazing into his body. Her palm-slaps had the sound of staccato gunfire as they hailed down on his bared bottom. He could hear the echoes of the cracking blows reverberating from the walls. His ass was full of fire. He squirmed all over Beejo's big luxurious body, while she caressed him tenderly. His ass cheeks glowed cherry red from the pounding they took.
He withstood it without embarrassing himself too terribly. The ridiculous part, the humiliatingly unexpected part, was that he achieved one hell of a big fat throbbing new hard-on. His entire pelvis undulated in a rhythmic sort of involuntary rotation, grinding his new erection against Beejo's belly. She was very aware of it.
"Thirty!" Hank announced. "There! How's that grab ya, Mr. Peeping Tom?"
"It hurts like hell," Ross said. "How's that grab you?"
He felt her shiver. "Oooooooh! It grabs me right in the crotch, baby!"
"Well the least you can do is the same I do for you, Hank," Beejo said, stroking Ross' neck. "Lick his ass."
"I won't!"
Ross heard the ptoo noise and felt her spit slap onto his throbbing butt. Then she added more saliva, and more. Her hands began smoothing it around, tenderly, laving his fiery ass cheeks with her own soothing saliva.
He sighed and wiggled, letting Beejo feel that big cock pushing firmly down against the bowl of her belly.
"Did you like that, Ross?" Hank asked. "I did not."
"You didn't!?"
"No, thanks. Because you get your jollies off having your tail busted doesn't mean I do, bitch."
"Hmp!" she sighed, as though his words were a revelation.
Beejo whispered into his ear. "Funny it gave you a hard-on, loverman." She slicked her tongue into his ear, then sighed, moving her mouth away. "All right, Hank. Ross? Let me up. My turn."
"Your turn!"
She hugged him. "Ross honey, you he still just like you are ... only on the bed, not one me, and you'll see. You'll love it!"
Doubtful but feeling that silly sense of honor that he really ought to give them a chance to get back at him, Ross let her out from under him. He flopped gracefully down onto the bed. The sheet where she'd lain was very hot, and he wriggled sidewise to find a cool spot.
Beejo rose, covered with sweat that gleamed and glistened on her chestnut skin. She moved behind him and got onto the bed again. Ross started telling brain and body to get ready.
Then she was licking his ass, sweetly, delightfully, feeling her slicking twisting lascivious tongue slide all over the whipped and saliva-coated cheeks of his butt.
He shivered, purely involuntarily, when her hands opened his cheeks. She parted the reddened rounds gently until she could see the hair-tufted, pink floor of the crevice between them. She pushed her face into it. He sighed when he felt her breath in the intimate cleft, and he sighed again.
Then she pressed her lips and tongue to the ardent heat of his ass crease and the sweat-wet little hole nestled there.
He felt as if he were coming apart. The sensation was indescribably marvelous. She slicked her tongue up and down the long crease, licked over his puckered anus, and poked at it. He grunted and jerked.
Her hands peeled his buttocks apart a bit more, opening the little hole for herself.
Then she stuck her tongue into his asshole.
He shuddered in the grip of the highest voluptuary pleasure. The wet slithering tip of her tongue flickered in and out of his anus. Wet slithering tentacles of lust flowed up through his groin into his belly. The muscles of his abdomen twitched convulsively as she went on, tonguing his asshole with a loving avidity, licking and sucking for all she was worth.
He could feel the soft pressure of her dangling breasts on the backs of his thighs. Her hands were warm on the rounded male buttocks he held apart. Her tongue was a warm wet delight, besieging the flesh of his inner anal mouth.
Slowly, with last caressing glides of her wet tongue over his crack and up its walls and over his buttocks, she brought the wonderful attention to an end. She sighed.
Then? "Jesus," Beejo said, apparently noticing herself for the first time. "I'm leaking sperm and I'm covered with sweat. Hank, I'm gonna borrow your shower."
"Sure," Hank said.
Slowly, Ross rolled over. Four female eyes pounced at once to his genitals, where his prick bulged up, huge and moist and throbbing. Their eyes told him that the long hard staff, standing so beautifully erect, was exciting to both of them. They weren't Lesbians, at all. They liked it both ways, all ways. He smiled.
"Did I hurt you?" Hank asked. "Sure," he said.
"Oh gosh. I got carried away," She looked guilty. "But you did sneak in and peep at us!"
Beejo bent forward and pressed a kiss on his cock, just below the big flaring bulb of his glans. Then she rose and hurried into the bathroom. The shower water began hissing at once.
Ross lay there and gazed up at Hank, still kneeling beside him.
Here's where you get yours, he thought.
But suddenly she was bending over his cock, with her mouth open.
CHAPTER SIX
Ross lay still with his eyes fixed on Hank's descending head. Her long red hair swung forward and down to caress his thighs. Her hands pressed them, supporting herself as she came down.
"What a lovely big cock," she sighed, and he felt it lurch as if her words possessed fingers that plucked at his prick.
Opening her mouth almost languidly, she slipped the big canopied crown into her face.
He gasped, then eased in a long breath and sighed it out. His floundering hand found a pillow, dragged it to him. He doubled it and stuck it under his upper back. He watched the kneeling girl who bent over his cock.
Her tongue slid wiggling over it, slowly at first, and then with an exciting flicking speed.
Her hp-softened teeth champed. They were beautiful: lips without the spoiling smear of makeup; cuntpink lips that took him into their wet warmth like a voracious cunt.
She made wet smacking noises around the head of his swollen prick, moving her teeth in torturing little bitelets, like the delicate nibble of a fish on his glans.
She heard his groan, and it pleasured her. She felt his helpless responsive twitches, and they delighted her. She could feel the stiff prick pulsing and jumping in her face as the excited blood pumped through it, engorging his flesh and filling the yielding shelter of her mouth to overflowing.
He lay there listening to her gasping and swallowing, listening to the smacking sucking noises she made, watching the bounce and jiggle of the full swells of her ripe tits. The erect nipples teased his legs. It was the land of teasing he could take, in large portions.
Her tongue stabbed and curled wetly, hotly. She began to move, thrusting his cock rapidly in and out of her sweet mouth. All the while, she sucked strongly.
This girl, he mused, is nuts! She doesn't know what the hell she wants!
As if to prove that so, she ceased all suction. Her tongue stilled. Slowly, she eased her mouth back off his wildly excited prong. Once freed of her lovely oral cocoon, it swung upward and showed her its underside, pointing up his body, back over his head. He gazed at her, waiting.
There," she said, almost primly. "Wasn't that nicer
"Nice! That was beautiful! God, you can't stop now!"
"Oh, but I have stopped." She gave him a very small smile, gazing at him with bright eyes. Full of-triumph?-lust?-anticipation?-dare?
Bitch! He reached for her, coming up into a sitting position with a tightening of his stomach muscles. The pillow flopped open behind him. His cock lowered its angle slightly, pointing up at her face.
But she wriggled aside, avoiding his outstretched hand.
"Damn you!" Ross snarled.
"Don't you talk to me that way!" She slid to the edge of the bed. "m talk to you any way I damned...."
"Keep away from me!" I'll be damned if I do!"
She had slipped off the bed and started for the bathroom. He hurled himself after her. His hand caught her streaming cape of flaming hair.
"Yiiiii-OWWW!"
He yanked her back against him so hard he groaned in pain when her buttocks bammed against his balls. His hand continued to clutch her hair, forcing her to look upward. His other hand whipped around her to hold her upright when she wanted to squat to relieve the pressure. "Gaaah-hhhh!"
Her cry was forced from her by the sudden violent piercing of her cunt. With his arm wrapped around her hip, he stabbed the rigidity of his finger back into her open-mouthed vulva and w-edged it deep up into the tight, hot clutch of her vagina.
She screeched at the pressure of her cringing, sensitive inner tissues. She jerked wildly in an effort to escape, rising on tiptoe but forced back down by his relentless hand in her hair. Her writhings shook the fleshy balls of her chest so that they appeared mounted on springs.
He began jerking his finger up and down in the slickery slimy folds of her pussy, holding her steady with her butt crammed hard against his thighs and genitals. She groaned and shivered violently. Staggering, she nearly fell. Her tits jumped high and swung wide.
He eased up the pressure of his impaling finger.
"Down, damn you, down on your knees."
Moaning, she bent her knees. He squatted with her as she went down, keeping a handful of hair and menacing her open vulva with his finger just within its wet and distended introitus. Then her knees thumped to the floor.
He released her hair and her cunt and slapped both hands, with a loud forcefulness, to her hips.
"Bend forward from the waist. Ass up and head down! You want to tease ... you'll take the cock you got tired of sucking."
"I didn't get ... owwww! You mean man!"
She went to hands and knees, then stretched her back like a waking cat, lithe and sinuous, straining out along the rug. Her beautiful bottom poked up in the air as her head went down onto the rug. She framed it with her forearms and shuddered.
He shoved his prick up her cunt from behind with jarring force.
"Uh!" She jerked and shivered again when it went in, fast and hard.
He began slipping and slapping himself in and out of her kneeling, writhing body while she moaned and wriggled beneath him, not in pain but in an obvious abandon to ecstasy.
"You're crazy, Hank You know that, don't you?" He probed deeply, plastering his body to hers from behind, cupping her ass in his pelvic bowl and squirming to get closer and even closer. "You're nuts. You're a real damned kook!"
"Fuck me!"
"Christ, I cm fucking you, you nutty broad!"
"Call me that! Call me nasty names! Fuck mel Fuck me hard!"
She was writhing and moaning, arching herself deliriously and pushing back, tightening and deepening her cuntish clutch on his bloated tool. Ripe and full of hot semen, his scrotum crammed against the lower curve of her bulging pussy ridge.
Gripping her lurching hips with both hands, he pulled his throbbing length nearly all the way out, then rammed it strongly back into her open, oozing cunt. Again and again he snapped his hips forward to flatten her buttocks and make them jiggle madly in a helpless cadence to his fucking lunges.
Her tits hung beneath her. They wobbled wildly, bouncing and swinging under her jerking and shuddering body, bobbing free. Their distended crests punched at the air.
She rammed herself back in insane grinding surges that brought him sliding deep into her cunt and made him grunt in a painful pleasure. Her ass cheeks ground against his thighs and belly. He could feel the fur of her red-mounded pussy rubbing over his swinging balls. Inside, she was clamping with all her might, even though she was loosely open and slippery wet.
Keeping his reddened, lusting ramrod imbedded, he forced her down and down until she lay prone on the rug. He knelt up behind her, between the back of her wideswept thighs. His hands grabbed her buttocks and pushed them down at the same time as he clamped them together. He watched the fiery pole of his prick whip up and down between their lower curves. She groaned and wiggled, her fingers working frantically at the rug.
Then, peeling her ass cheeks apart, he stretched upon her back. She grunted out a strained, throaty cry of protest-and pleasure.
Now he was pillowed on her ass, fucking under it into the pussy he mashed against the rug and unyielding floor with his rooting weight. Her breasts were squashed and spread, trying to cram themselves back up into her chest, trying to squirt out to either side of her to ease the painful strain. Arching her back, she cranked her elbows up so as to plant her palms flat. Then she lifted her head and swung it to and fro, groaning loudly.
Lust tingled through her, through every fiber and muscle from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingers.
She was impaled, raped, smashed and flattened and fucked violently. And with an obvious libidinous helplessness, she loved every moment of it, all the tingling pain and spurting jolts of sensuousness.
Beejo came out of the bathroom naked. Her deep dark navel winked in the convex bowl of her belly and her big bronze tits jumped and leaped like two animated cantaloupes staging a wrestling match. She stopped short, staring at them.
"What is this, rape?"
"No, damnit," Ross gasped, grinding in, "I wish it was!"
"Yes, yes it's rape, he's fucking me blind, mashing me squashing me ... ahhhhh, God!" Hank cried.
Beejo watched the sweaty action for a few moments. She cocked her close-cropped head on one side.
"Umm ... Ross? Could you kneel up and still keep it in a minute?"
"No, no, crush me, squash me ... fuck meeee!..
Ross set his hands against the floor and rose, then against the flattened girl's ass and swung up onto his knees, astride her body. This lessened the depth of his penetration, but the blood-gorged crown of his prick remained inside her soft, slippery cunt lips.
"Good," Beejo grinned, and hurried to them. She knelt beside Ross, crosswise to the other woman's body. She gave Ross a broad smile and a quick pecking kiss.
Then she slapped her friend's jouncy, juddering ass cheeks, again and again, in a series of hard splatting open-palmed slaps that reddened the upturned bowls swiftly.
"Aow-ow ... oohowWWW! Yaaaooo, oh, oh...."
"Now," Beejo said having heightened the color of Hank's bottom considerably. She slid her hand over Ross' butt and patted it.
He stared at her. "You mind if I get back to what I was doing?"
"FUCK meeeeeeeeeeeee!" Hank screamed.
Ross took his eyes from the grinning Beejo and complied with a grinding hunching willingness. Again he stretched himself onto the prone woman on the floor. Again he flattened her butt beneath his body and her tits beneath hers. Again he poled himself in and out of her slimy pussy with hard lunges.
She squealed and gasped and wiggled and squirmed beneath him.
Then she came, with a shriek, and went absolutely rigid. Every tensed muscle shivered. She collapsed and lay limp.
He was fucking an unconscious body.
Beejo clapped her hands. "Wonderful! It worked! Do you know what you've just done? You're the first man she's ever come with!"
"Uh-huh. But I'm not a necrophiliac. You know what you've just done? You've got me screwing a dead body."
Beejo laughed and swung around so that she was kneeling directly alongside the other girl. She wagged her big brown ass.
I'm not unconscious, and she won't appreciate what you've got to give her anyhow!"
"Oh, you crazy bitches!" Ross snapped.
He dragged his painfully erect cock out of Hank, who groaned even in her faint, and swung swiftly to Beejo. She invited his attention by spreading her thighs and giving her outpoked ass a slow, seductive wiggle.
Then she screamed and lurched forward as he thrust his heavy erection straight in between her inviting buttocks.
He grabbed her quickly with both arms around her and his hands clutching her belly's softness. His penis was full of lubrication from Hank's orgasm-flooded cunt. It went straight up Beejo's back.
"Ah ... ahhh ... oh, oh, damn you, Ross, I didn't think you'd ... ow ... urn!" She broke off her pained moans and groans. "Ummmmnun! Slippery from her, isn't it?"
"You're ... damned ... right," he grunted, straining to find her intestines with the big head of his swollen prick. He pushed with his hips while he tugged her strongly back against him.
She sighed.
Then he fucked her big flaring ass with a shattering series of deep slithering strokes between the resihent brown moons of her buttocks. His balls slapped the damp mound of cunt flesh beneath the tighter hole he lost himself in. Lust tightened them more and more.
"Wait!" she cried frantically. "Slow down! Be still ... let me move! You'll come too damned fast this way, loverman!"
"I'm tired of taking instructions, damnit! And I can't slow down-own-ownnnnnn!"
Then hot semen boiled out the length of his overexcited prick into the wet, clutching depths of her straining rectal pocket. Damp, strongly muscled inner walls milked him thirstily dry.
"Je-jeezus," Beejo gasped, "what a wild scene!" and she collapsed, falling forward onto the floor. Still hanging onto her, Ross went with her. She whoofed as he came down atop her. His cock was still deeply ensconced in her asshole, bathed in its own juice, and far too tightly to go down, spent or not
"Let's ... let's take a nap," Beejo gasped.
"Fine idea. If you can sleep with me on top of you, great. I'm not moving."
She sighed. "Umm ... will you sort of slide over so we're both on our sides, loverman? Please?"
They did that, and in seconds all three of them lay sprawled on the floor, sleeping soundly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ross awoke to find himself separated from Beejo and lying flat on his back on the rug. He rolled his eyes, squinted at the light, and turned his head. He was gazing at a pair of shockingly purple pants legs, belled. And bare feet. He raised his eyes.
Hank smiled down at him. The purple bells were the bottom half of a one-piece outfit, sleeveless, collarless, and, considering the long deep V plunge, damned near topless. A little silver chain circled her waist and hung down interestingly, following the bulge of her crotch. The jumpsuit was very tight in that area.
She was sitting on the bed, but as soon as he looked a up she slid to her knees and enveloped his head in a veil of fiery hair. She kissed him with warmth.
"Hello, darling. Want to screw?"
He palmed the bulge of one of her breasts inside the purple fabric, which was a slinky knit. "Will you be insulted if I ask for a rain check?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Just checking. Always ready. Trying to be polite. Always have to be polite to my man."
"Um. Your man."
She kissed him again, softly and warmly, her fingers trailing over his face. "Um-hm," she said softly. "You're the man who understands. You're the first man who ever made me come, I mean really come, you know that."
"It was Beejo," he said sadly.
"Really? Wow ... funny I never noticed she had a cock before!"
He chuckled. He stroked her thigh. "I mean, it was Beejo's idea, and Beejo that landed the slaps on your butt while I was in you. That's what did it, isn't it?"
"Sure. I always thought maybe ... I've been trying to get a guy to do that for years." She sighed. "Never could. And I couldn't just come out and ask!"
"Why not?"
"Well I ... I just couldn't! I mean, say I want to be spanked and screwed, please, I think maybe getting spanked and balled will make me come' ... well wow, I couldn't say anything like that! I tried, you know that. I tried to make you mad enough, remember?"
"You're damned right I remember. The first time we met, and again this afternoon."
"See? But nobody'd take me up on it, or get mad enough to belt me a few on the bottom, commonly known as the seat of pleasure."
"It is?" he asked, chuckling.
"Well, it is for some of us. Anyhow, you know now, and you'll do it now, won't you?"
"With pleasure, you nutty little bitch."
She sighed, "Calling me pet names will get you anywhere!" Her hand slipped down to stroke his genitals. They were limp, and he was content to leave them that way awhile. He disengaged her hand.
"What day is this, Hank?"
She laughed. "Still Sunday!"
"What time is it?"
"Six. PM, I mean. Do you realize I actually fainted?"
"Yeah," he said, petting her butt, and his stomach growled.
Hank giggled. "Oh, that reminds me. We'd better do something about eating. Listen, do you have any more of that lovely wine down at your place?"
He thought about it a minute, although he knew he was out. He shook his head.
"Oh, hell! I thought I'd provide the food while you put in the wine."
"What's my part?" Beejo asked, raising up behind him and stretching luxuriously. "Y'all wan' me t'provide an Alabama ham?"
"What the heck's an Alabama ham?" Hank demanded, laughing at the assumed accent.
"Watermelon, whitey," Beejo smiled. "Anyhow...."
"You gotny wine down at your place?" Ross asked. "Nope. Sony."
"Well, what do you have down in three-oh-six?"
She frowned. Then her mouth rounded into an O. She glanced past Ross, at Hank.
"Uh, I've got a confession to make, Ross. Lake ... I don't live here. At all. In the building."
"Then ... then how the hell did you get in? I met you down at the pool, for pete's sake, and that not only takes a key to the front door, but to the basement door too!"
"Don't call our lovely recreation center a basement," Hank said.
"I had a friend used to live here," Beejo told him. "Hank knows about it already, sorry. He had a couple of duplicate keys made. You know, a buck or whatever it is, at the dimestore. Keys made While-U-Wate. He gave them to me, and when he moved we ... that is he ... forgot."
"God," Ross said, "you're a criminal! You could be ... wait!" Who's in 306 or wherever it was you told me to come if I needed help?"
She laughed. "A woman I know. Lucy." She chuckled again. "She's a professional girl. She'd help you, too ... if you had the money."
"You damned bitch!"
"You already said that," Beejo reminded him.
"He said it to me, too," Hank said.
"He got a small vocabulary, hasn't he?"
"All right, stop that!" Ross snapped. "You two are way too much. You're on the premises under pretenses, Beejo. Probably criminal offense, for pete's sake. And the two of you are switch hitters. Man or woman, either way."
"We also spank and like that," Hank reminded him helpfully.
"You got us dead to rights, man," Beejo admitted. "What you going to do about it?"
He slid an arm around her waist. He already had his other hand behind Hank's neck.
"Keep you both! Ye be in me power, me proud beauties."
"Good!" Hank sighed, kissing his cheek.
"Good!" Beejo said, kissing his other cheek.
"Hey," Hank said, her voice rising in distress. "Listen, Beejo...."
Beejo said, "Listen, Hank . ... "
The two women looked at each other. Slowly, Hank's pulled-down brows leveled off. Slowly, she smiled. Beejo grinned in return. They both looked at Ross.
"You think you're man enough to handle it, buster?"
"I know how to find out," he told them firmly.
"Well, boy," Hank said, "living the way we are sure seems dumb! We'll waste a fortune! I mean, we should be looking for a place for the three of us!"
Ross glanced at Beejo. "Beejo, you got a job?"
"Uh-huh. I sec."
"You what?"
"I sec. Seccing is what a secretary does, right? Actually it's like I file stuff and look it up again, mostly, but secretary sounds so much better."
He chuckled. "Yeah. Anyhow, Hank, if you're looking for a roommate, you and Beejo ought to get together...."
"How convenient!" Beejo enthused.
"...er," Ross finished. "But as for the three of us looking for a place ... that seems a little premature. We may hate each other."
"Never," Hank breathed, kissing his ear.
His stomach growled.
Beejo laughed, then hers growled. She looked reproachfully down at it and slapped it.
Ross got to his feet. His penis jiggled and swung, dangling over his purse of testicles. Despite the fact that it was in the relaxed state, he could practically feel two greenish-gray eyes and two deeply brown ones burning into it.
"Well, I've got to take a shower. Then I'll go get us some pizzas. Still no wine, but I do have a six-pack.
"Silly," Hank said. "Pizza's a great idea, but I'm already showered and dressed. I did that while you two were snoozing. My party, my treat ... ah-ah, no backtalk. This is a celebration! See you ... oh, what do you want on your king-sized pizzas, my ... my darlings?"
Ross and Beejo glanced at each other at the last word. Then all three kissed and groped, spontaneously. Ross pulled away.
"Shower," he said, "fast! We mess around like that a few seconds more and one thing'll lead to another and I'll starve to death! Pepperoni, Hank."
He went into the shower and was left alone while he relieved himself of dried sweat and dried genital juice, both male and female. He came out toweling hard, buffing warmth into his skin, still thinking. When he emerged from the bathroom, Beejo was sitting in the chair he'd hidden behind. She was sipping a Coke and looking thoughtfully at the wall.
We all need to do some thinking, he thought, and got into his pants and shirt without bothering with shorts, socks, or shoes. He went down the hall to his apartment, found a folded sack from the grocery, and enveloped the sixpack of beer in it. As an afterthought he picked up the can of grated cheese he sprinkled on his pizzas.
Taking the little-load back down the hall, he had to knock. Beejo admitted him and he started stowing beer in the little fridge built into the wall.
"Think it's gonna work?" she asked.
"Who knows? All the three of us know about each other is sexually. That's a good start. It makes it easier for us to talk. Now we can get to know each other's heads, and see if we get along."
"What do you do, Ross?"
I'm assistant office manager where Hank works." He couldn't help adding, truthfully, "It's a big office." It was. He'd been promoted three times since he'd started there two years ago. "Want a beer?"
"I think I'll wait for Hank."
I'm going to have one now " he said, snapping the ring-pull.
"In that case HI join you," she smiled. "Hate to see a body drink alone."
He handed her a beer. "You're an easygoing sort of woman, aren't you?"
"Woman? I'm only twenty, for pete's sake."
"Sorry. Hard to know what to call people these days. Women over thirty-five think it's fine to be called girls. Others don't."
"You can call me girl, man."
I'd rather think of you as a woman."
She smiled, toasted him silently with her beer, and drank. "You're a good man," she said, lowering the can.
"I think you're probably a good woman."
"Yeah, aren't we beautiful?" She giggled.
"Um. And Hank's a nut."
"Maybe. You like girls with big jugs, Ross?"
"Sure."
"Better than girls with small ones, or without?"
"Sure."
She shrugged. "You're a nut, too," she said, and drank.
He realized that she had a bit of depth, and that she was no dummy. She was right. Joe at the office always said something like, "Boy I'd eat that in Central Park with an audience!" when he saw a female body that turned him on. Meaning he thought about cunt licking first and screwing later. Not only did Ross notice tits first-unless she was headed the other way, naturally-but he'd heard Leo say, more than once, "Boy I'd like to wrap my tongue around those juggies!"
So sex meant eating to Joe, and tits meant sex to Leo and Ross, and sex meant spanking-as well as pronging-to Hank. So who, he thought, are you calling a kook?
Hank came back with three huge, still steamy pizzas and they sorted them out and sat with tucked legs on the floor to eat. Then they sat there, finishing the beer and starting in on Hank's gin, and talked until three in the morning. By that time they were acquainted, had argued and agreed, and agreed and argued, and were totally knocked out.
There was only one bit of strangness. It was far too late to start anything sexual, and Ross kissed them both and went to the door. Beejo slid a hand around Hank's waist.
"Mind if I spend the night with Ross?"
Hank blinked. She shrugged. "No. Should I?"
"Beats me," Beejo said, patting her on the ass. Then she looked at Ross. "Mind if I spend the night with you, mister?"
"So long as you don't snore and don't expect a screw," he said, and they went down the hall and to bed and were asleep in seconds. If she snored, he was certainly too tired and deeply asleep to notice. And the alarm clock went off all too damned early.
It was a lousy day. He went home, didn't call or knock at Hank's and did a little reading and a lot of thinking. He went to bed early and awoke feeling great, and Tuesday was a good day. He also put in a good day's work and was more than ready to crash when he got home.
He picked up the envelope they'd shoved under his door. It wasn't easy, with both hall and wall-to-wall apartment carpeting. There was a small note inside.
"I've moved in with Hank. We'll be playing our game. Three can play, but only if you want."
He thought about it. Then he went to bed with a sexy book.
Twenty minutes later there was a knock at his door. He slept raw, and had to pull a robe around himself to go answer. It was Hank.
"You're not coming?"
"It's pretty damned late," he said, then softened that by leaning out to kiss her.
"Okay, smarty. But wait'll you hear some of the things we've dreamed up for you!"
He grinned. "I can't," he said, and started out.
She put a hand against his chest. "Wait." She turned and did a bob-white whistle. "The mountain comes to you, Mohammed!"
He backed into his room. A few seconds later Beejo bustled in. She came straight to him, kissed him, and peeled off her robe. Ross' hands wrapped around her big jugs, moving on pure automatic. Over her shoulder he saw Hank. She stripped, too, but she was fetchingly rigged up in a pair of black net panties with the crotch out, as well as a black garter belt and figured black hose.
She turned slowly, letting him see that the slashed crotch of her panties ran on up the back, too.
"Kinky, huh?"
"Yeah," he breathed. "Beautiful!"
Beejo reached between them and had no trouble at all finding his cock. "Good lord," she gasped excitedly. "He's got a hard-on already!"
Hank smiled. "How nice," she said, hunching her lower body at him. "Let's do something with it!"
Two of them, Ross thought with a little sigh. Oh boy. I'll feel as lousy tomorrow as I did Monday!
"Beejo?" Hank prompted.
Grinning, Beejo disengaged her big floppy jugs from his hands. Then she went down on her hands and knees. She wiggled her naked butt. Hank walked over, slid her hand around his prick, and gave it a couple of pumps. Then she stepped astride Beejo's out-thrust butt. Slowly she lowered herself, showing Ross a lot of bulging ass cheeks and legs parted to display her cunt and crack framed by the open black panties.
Lying along Beejo's back with her white butt directly atop the other woman's brown one, Hank reached under with both hands. She began playing with the dangling tan breasts.
Beejo sighed. She wagged her ass, slowly. Immediately Hank picked up the rhythm and wagged hers. Then she glanced around at Ross, over her shoulder.
"That give you any ideas?"
"God," he said fervently. "It sure and hell does!"
"No fair playing favorites," Beejo said.
"Can you stand that kind of weight?" he asked, moving up behind them and letting his hand slide down Hank's superbly ripe ovals, pausing to wiggle his fingers at her cunt, which was squashed onto the other girl's butt, and then on down, his fingers trailing over Beejo's big broad buttocks until he slipped it between her thighs.
"Sure," Beejo said. "She doesn't weigh much, and she's got her feet on the floor to take up some of it."
"We've been practicing," Hank said, with a little giggle.
"Sorry I didn't come," Ross said. "Well, now's your chance. We'll just see where you come!"
He stood there gazing at the utterly lewd and electrifyingly wanton display they presented.
Perfectly rounded, well parted buttocks of pale pink, resting invitingly directly above larger, broader, fleshier cheeks that were a glowing coppery tan. All four of these salaciously proffered buttocks were spread by the girls' positions to show him the deep dividing valleys and the tiny, coiled holes set in their exact centers. Below Hank's ass, her red-furred pussy was pressed provocatively against the very top of Beejo's ass crease. The lips were slightly mashed, so that they spread and furled and were slightly open in lecherous invitation. And below the larger, darker buttocks protruded another ridged cunt mound, furred with intensely black hairs and with the labia slightly parted in an undeniable invitation to perforation and plumbing by a ransacking cock.
Smiling, he slid one hand over the tops of Beejo's rump and let one of them work its slow, titillating way into the creamy softness of Hank's crotch. The pulsating pink labes parted and then his finger was sliding in between the ragged inner lips, fluted and scalloped and nearly red in their deep pinkness.
She grunted, then sighed as his finger went into her pussy as far as its length would allow. His knuckles pressed her cunt lips inward so as to impale her humid vault a bit more deeply.
He slid his finger in and out, slowly, several times.
Then her drew it from her and set its tip against the iris-like coil of the sultry niche of her anus. He pushed.
His finger slithered into her ass. Her belly began to grind against the tan body beneath her. Her thighs and hips began to flex hard in a wanton, writhing abandonment to lust. Having fingerfucked her cunt, he repeated the exciting process in her ass.
With that long, delving middle finger engulfed tightly in Hank's burning anal hollow, he slid his other hand between the other girl's thighs and pierced her cunt. Beejo sighed and began squirming in fervent desire, rocking the girl who was perched precariously atop her.
With one finger of each hand, he simultaneously reamed Hank's asshole and the bedewed socket of Beejo's cunt. He watched their bodies tremble, their proffered buttocks twitch and ripple, and he listened in delight to their gasps and sighing moans.
Then, in one swift movement, he had each of them plugged up the anus with a firm, slipping finger.
"God ... oh lord, Beejo, he's ... he's got a finger in my ... my ass!"
"Uh ... my ... mine too ... is it fun, Ross?"
"Dear lord," he smiled, working both fingers in and out and testing the grip of each hot asshole, "it's marvelous!"
"P-pl-please, Ross," Hank said in a tiny voice, "don't ... don't try to put your cock in there, It'll hurt!"
"Please, Ross," Beejo imitated, her voice rather hollow and faraway as she bent her head far down, "don't forget to slip your cock up my butt ... it won't hurt!"
She chuckled, and then Ross did, and then the three of them were laughing together.
He let his fingers ooze out of both tight hollows, aided in exit by the automatic flexing push of their internal muscles. Then he stood still for a moment to watch the tight squeezing of their agitated assholes.
In a single push, he thrust his cock into the em brace of Hank's lower lips. Her juicy slit opened and sucked him joyously inside. He pushed on until it was buried deep in the long, stringent tunnel, made tight by being crushed onto the other woman's back. The stiff column of glistening flesh delved all the way into her liquid depths.
Tell Beejo, Hank," he said, caressing the parted pink buttocks.
"He ... he's got it ... all the way in my cunnnnnnt," Hank breathed, with fervor.
Beejo groaned.
Immediately Ross pulled himself all the way out of the girl on top, flexed his knees slightly, and thrust his penis at the darker, lower-set lips. Glossy black hair furled aside and then the soft damp lips of her clutching vulva were welcoming his deep stroking push into their loving grasp.
"I ... I've got it now!" Beejo gasped triumphantly;
Her constricted position beneath her friend rendered her barely able to move. But she tried, hunching and squirming beneath Hank in a gentle rhythm of aroused lust. She was sighing loudly, fucking herself gently back and forth on his hot tool and filling his stroking body with bursts of overwhelming passion.
When he slid it from her it was with the intention of pushing it back into Hank's vulvar grip. But he was sidetracked along the way. The little hole in the valley between Beejo's brashly jutting buttocks seemed to beckon. Smiling, he pushed his cunt lubricated meat into the mouth of that sweet little anal hole.
She gasped-and pushed herself backward. His pronging cock slid on into the deep tunnel of that sucking hot hole until both her ass cheeks and her anal ring were splayed out on either side of his feverishly inflamed tool. She gave him that thrill that set his lust aboil: she moved on it, accepting it with loving welcome.
Holding Hank's hips firmly and grinding his stomach against them, he pulled both women back into his piercing, lunging embrace and plunged his cock ruthlessly up Beejo's brown ass until she whimpered and wagged her hips. Hank rocked and clung to the other woman's dangling tits.
He cupped the warm curves of Hank's pink buttocks with fingers that dug into the soft flesh, spreading them well open so that he could watch his own big inflamed prick suck slowly out from between the parted bronze cheeks just beneath.
Two women ... two women ... two assholes, two sweetly offered cunts ... four beautiful buttocks ... two women, two women ... the thought and the sight of it was a violently affecting blast of lust that made his entire body pulse with heated passion.
"Uh!" Beejo gasped, when his big prick slid finally, all the way out of her rectal grip!"
"Uh!" Hank gasped, when the full length of it slid with great ease back into her cunt. He smiled, listening to the passionate moans that issued from her throat and racked her contorted flesh.
Her hands were suddenly ungentle, reaching down to paw and grasp and joggle Beejo's dependent tits, making them swing and flop about beneath the bowed brown body. Beejo moaned and contracted her ass, then humped it strongly upward. Hank's body actually lifted from the other woman's in reaction to that strong upward jerk. Ross, unprepared for the sudden activity, felt his penis slip and then swing up out of Hank's humid and seething pussy.
He changed its angle and sent it spearing without warning up Beejo's anus. She groaned and went all tight and tense, not about to repeat her bouncing maneuver while his cock was ramming relentlessly, callously punishing, into the bold thrust of her butt.
But after a moment her straining, glistening, slippery body began to twist nakedly, a captive of her own surging lust.
"Her nipples, Hank," Ross said hurriedly.
He stood there and fucked in and out of the brown girl's cringing, wiggling ass while he held onto the pink cheeks surmounting it. The channel swiftly became easy as a well-lubricated cunt, and just as slippery inside.
Riding Beejo's bowed back with her hands swinging down beneath her, Hank obeyed. Her fingers and thumbs latched onto the thick, nearly black nipples and pulled them downward, then out to the sides. Her fingers rolled them tightly. Ross jerked and thrust, pounding himself in and out of Beejo's back until the warm, nigh-excruciating pressure of her inner ass made him near frantic with desire and the rising need to blow his balls.
He knew his woman. In a few more seconds Beejo squealed, then screamed. A sudden trickle of not-quite clear fluid drooled out of her empty cunt and edged its way down her inner thigh. Spasm after hot spasm of orgasm slammed through her in pounding waves.
"Stand up, stand up quick, Hank, Hank ... I'm going to fall!...."
And she did. Her voluptuously big body splatted onto the rug, with Ross' abandoned penis leaping suddenly up into the air. It emerged from the climaxing woman's asshole with such force that it slapped back against his belly as if released from a catapult.
Hank had barely managed to get her feet planted. But had it not been for Ross' hands, she'd have fallen forward anyhow, on top of her limp friend. She'd been bent too far forward to maintain her own balance. As it was, he was only just able to keep her from falling, and she staggered forward wildly, squealing in fear as she tried to keep on her feet. Clinging to her hips, he followed with similarly staggering steps. He managed to guide her toward his bed.
She rammed into it with both knees and fell forward onto the bed. He fell on top of her back, but scrambled immediately up and off.
Quickly he jerked her legs apart and then used one hand to guide his cock into her cunt from behind. It swallowed him warmly. She squealed again, this time in complete delight.
His calves strained; he had to squat slightly to keep himself in her. He standing and she lying partially forward on the bed with her knees on the floor; he grabbed her hips and shoved deep. He drilled up her vaginal track and slapped down onto her ass cheeks, feeling his drive to climax rise to a pitch that was a flaring pain in his balls.
His pelvis spanked her squirming, upturned buttocks.
His prick zoomed easily in and out of her wet vaginal hole, seeking her womb.
His legs strained and shivered.
Then his balls gave up their hot load and thick, simmering fluid rushed up her cunt like a rushing waterfall, blasting into the wet warm interior of her sucking pussy. The agitated inner walls gripped him in a smooth, tight embrace that was not a very wet embrace.
He lunged forward onto her back. She moaned and squirmed beneath him. Slipping his hands beneath her, he clutched her breasts and manipulated them almost harshly. He kept his deflated cock in her until it had shrunk to a weary-looking worm that crawled slowly out of her gaping, damp lips.
Eventually he drew both sighing, weak women into bed with him, and all three of them sank into an exhausted, sated sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ross' phone was ringing the following night when he walked into his apartment. He kicked the door shut behind him and hurried over to pick up the burring instrument.
"This is Ross Stender, hello."
"Ross ... this is Rosemary."
"Hi, Rosemary," he said, very surprised. She had never called him. With her old-fashioned upbringing and concepts, she was just not the "kind of girl" who called a man. He glanced around, then sat on the edge of the bed. He wished to hell she'd waited a couple of minutes more; he sure could use a beer.
"Did I ... disturb anything, Ross?"
"Nothing but taking off my coat I was just coming in the door."
"Oh. I thought you got home earlier."
"I'm learning that being assistant office manager means that if you get through early, you stay in the office. And if you're not quite through with something that Sales needs, you stay and finish it."
She laughed-dutifully, he thought. "Not all a bed of roses, hmmm!"
"Responsibility brings, ah ... well, responsibility. Sorry. That's the best I can do at the end of a busy day." What the hell do you want, Rosemary? Another movie and a nice sweet kiss at the door?
"Ross, I, uh, I need to talk with you."
I'm right here, and I'm listening. Would you do me a favor and hang on while I get a beer out of the fridge? I'm bushed, and I'm not in the bracket when I can stop at a bar on the way home, yet"
"Oh, of course, Ross."
Laying the phone on the bed, he shucked off his coat on the way over to the fridge. He returned with a can in hand, and he didn't pick up the phone again until he'd enjoyed the best draught of all: that long, first one. With an appreciative sigh, he returned to Rosemary.
"Too bad you're not here to enjoy one with me," he said. 'It sure and hell hits the spot"
"Yes," she said in a soft voice, "too bad I'm not. Would you like me to be?"
He lifted his eyebrows at his own reflection in the mirror. What the hell...?"
He chuckled. There was a new confidence in him, a man with two women who had found a male and grooved on him. "I hope you'll pardon me if I say that sounds like a loaded question, Rosemary."
There was a long silence. She was waiting for him to go on. He decided not to say a word. Its your dime, Rosie, he mused.
"Ross?"
"Right here."
I've ... I've been thinking, Ross. A whole lot. A whole lot. That's why I called. I've been doing a lot of thinking."
"Um-hm," he said, sipping from his cold can. And whatever you've been thinking about, he thought, it sure is hard for you to say it!
"About ... about things," Rosemary said. And she waited again. Ross waited. He didn't like people that called you and then waited for you to talk them up before they got down to their reason for dialing or buttoning in the first place.
"I, uh," she said at last, "was ... wondering. You still want to show me your apartment? I mean ... umm...." She tried to sound light, suddenly, talking with a forced lilt in her voice. "I mean do you have enough beer for two?"
He thought about that. What the hell had she decided? Could it be...? He made a lecherous face at himself in the mirror, then grinned at the ridiculousness of it.
"Rosemary...."
"Oh gosh. You have other plans."
I'm just ... I'm surprised. Maybe you ... how about telling me what's bothering you."
Silence. Then: "Don't you know? I mean ... what I said? Like ... I'll come to your apartment"
"Okay. It's a pretty decent little place. Other people have been here. None of them got bitten or attacked, so far."
"Oh, Ross!" she said, in exasperation.
Poor baby, he thought. She can't even say it. Well, if it's what she's thinking about, we'll get it out into the open. And if it isn't-she sure won't call again, after I say it!
So he said it. "Rosemary-you looking to get laid?" The telephone gasped in his ear. "Oh, Ross ... how crude!"
Mentally, Ross Stender threw up his hands. Oh, shit!
"Yeah. There are a lot of other ways I could phrase the question, Rosemary. But I did get it said, now, didn't I? Rosemary? That question's still hanging in the air."
She sighed. "Don't ... don't you ... umm, think I should?"
"Sure! Everybody should. It's never hurt me any!" He only just heard her gulp. He turned up his beer. "Have ... have you made love with ... with a lot of girls, Ross?"
"No," he said truthfully, "I haven't. I haven't even made love with a lot of women. Just ... some experience, that's all. It's normal, you know."
Her voice was a whisper. "Yes. I ... know. I think so. Well, ah ... "
"Hell, Rosie, the trouble is you're so hungup you can't even talk about it! You can't even come out and say it. I don't mean words like fuck or screw, but anything. You called me up, and you caught me coming right in the door. But you don't want to come out and say anything."
I'm ... scared," she admitted in a tiny voice.
"Of getting rid of that troublesome cherry or of telling me?"
"I ... uh ... both."
He turned his head and held the phone against his shirt while he chuckled. And he did some hard fast thinking. What was right? What was wrong? What was his relationship, his understanding with Hank and Beejo? And how emotionally involved might Rosemary get-hell, suppose he did, with her?
He put the phone back to his ear again. There was only silence. He sat there and finished his beer and wondered if he'd rather have something to eat and about three more beers and flake out, after last night's wild activity right here in this room, or call Beejo or Hank or both, or ... tell Rosemary to come on over.
He didn't know. He felt that there was some sort of ethics involved, but he was damned if he could figure it out with a firmness of mind. Ethics, he mused, and morality, are ... weakeners!
"Ross?"
"Right here listening, Rosemary." And he added cruelly, "Getting hungry!"
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said tinily, sounding pitiful. "Well, do you want ... oh, Ross I'm trying to talk!"
He sighed. In a quiet, soothing voice he said, "Rosemary, I want to be sure you know ... I don't love you, Rosie."
"I know!"
"Oh. Okay. I just ... thought I ought to say it."
"Oh, Ross! You're really honorable, aren't you? Good lord, all the men in this town ... all the things I hear, from other ... would you like to make love with me, Ross?"
And so there it was. On the line. She'd said it, or at least she'd said it as explicitly as she could. He had to give her credit, had to admire her for that. She'd overcome a lot, to say that. She might make it after all. She might actually get to be a people. He hadn't really thought she would. Just another poor little hungup girl who'd Save It and have it taken without finesse on her wedding night, so that then she and some asshole could go through life making each other quietly miserable, not quite to the point of desperation.
And now it was up to him. And he thought about Hank and Beejo. And honor, or morals, or ethics, whatever all that meant.
I'd love to, Rosemary."
He heard her sigh.
"But ... I don't think I should. I don't believe it's the right way or the right time."
After a long silence, her voice came back stiff and stilted, straining for firmness. "Sorry I bothered you, Ross. Good-bye."
"Good luck, Rosemary. Goodb-" But she'd already hung up.
I oughtta kick my ass all over this goddamn apartment, he thought, putting the phone down and striding to the fridge for another cold one. I am a goddamn disgrace to machismo and the male mystique and centuries of admiration for Don Juan and Casanova and Errol Flynn!
A few minutes later that thought got doubled, in spades.
He opened his door to go down to Hank's apartment, feeling like a great big hero. She and some guy were just coming out of her door, both of them all duded up, and she was just turning back to double-check her door before they went out.
Ross closed his door and stood there, listening to them pass. He heard her giggle.
Asshole! he told himself, and picked up the phone. He'd call down there, rather than go, then. He'd call Beejo. We, he thought, are gonna have some kind of wild night!
She answered. She floundered. Oh-uh-um. She was just on her way out....He stood there just inside his door, finishing his beer, and in about twenty minutes he heard her and her guy leaving.
He tossed off the rest of that second beer and gazed at the telephone.
Poor rejected Rosemary, he thought. Poor lonesome Ross.
And he thought, Calling her now would he an utter bastardly thing to do! Also ... it'd just get you turned down.
He considered giving her a break, calling her to give her that chance to tell him to buzz off. He didn't.
He had a marvelous meal of four pieces of bologna and a chunk of Cracker Barrel cheese and a third beer. Then, restless as hell, he decided to go wear himself out by swimming up a storm.
He stripped, donned trunks and trousers and a shaving robe, and slung a towel over his shoulder. Then, making certain he had his keys in his pocket, he went out. He glanced down at their door with level eyes. And decided to walk clear back and down to the basement recreation center. For the exercise, maybe, or maybe to make certain he didn't somehow run into one of them somewhere.
He made that first legging journey, punched the elevator button on that end, and rode down to One with a couple that necked unashamedly in the corner and a tall thin girl who kept looking at him.
Then he started striding back, the length of the first floor.
He was about eight feet this side of I'll when some body inside screamed. He paused, told himself to stay the hell out, and walked on.
The door of I'll was jerked open just after he passed it.
"Help! Oh help!"
Ross spun around. Fleeting impression: Female. Long blonde hair, slightly wavy and minimally curled on the ends. Piquant, pretty face, deep set eyes. Vertically striped shirt, some sort of shiny fabric. Tight pants, also shiny, flaring from the knees down. Bare feet: painted, frosty-pink toenails. Frantically waving hands. Smoke. The smell of burning.
Ross ran to her. She was practically jumping up and down, streaming tears and white as a ghost and stabbing frantically back into her apartment with one shaking finger. He stepped sidewise past her into her apartment. It was just like his, but with a wine-colored rug and oyster-white walls and striped furniture-covered with the same shiny stuff as her shirt.
And flames, crackling and leaping and hissing, all around the pan on the pull-down range, spewing smoke up at the ceiling.
He ran to it, dragging his towel off his shoulder. He plopped it down onto the pan, which was bubbling wildly. Then he picked it up, towel, pan and all, and rushed into the bathroom with it. He bent over to set it in the tub, but the heat was already coming through the towel, and he dropped the pan from a distance of about six inches. It made a hell of a clatter.
He swung back and returned at the gallop of start jerking open the doors of the cabinets built into the same wall as the range and fridge and oven. Flames still danced and crackled on the range. He found the cylindrical blue box and was jerking up the tab as he swung to the range.
He dumped salt on the fire. It went quickly out.
He blew out a long sigh and set down the salt on the drain of the diminutive sink. Then he turned to the girl. His heart was pounding.
"Wow! You're won-derful!"
He grinned. "Just in time not to get supper, though."
She had a hand against the heaving front of her blouse. Her pants, he saw, were suede cloth, that no-wale corduroy stuff that looked like velvet. They were zipped front, the fly pooched slightly out with a cute little belly. A gold-buttoned tab held them shut and three more gold buttons ran up the side seam of each flared leg.
She looked like the kind of girl everybody turned around to gaze, after, on the street-and the kind of girl waiters and waitresses and liquor-store countermen always asked for her ID. She looked about sixteen.
With her hand still against her breast, she sank weakly down in a chair. She was gasping and he knew her heart was pounding just as hard as his was. The adrenalin was beginning to wear off-and so was the beer, damn it, and he began to feel a little shaky in the legs.
"I ... I was deep-frying some potatoes and had to ... uh, answer the phone."
Sure, he thought, without smiling. The bathroom light was on. She'd had to go answer the call of nature, that's what. Not the sort of thing you say to a strange man, won-derful or not.
"Then it ... it ... the grease boded over, I guess, and ... started a fire!"
He nodded. "Yeah, that happens. No harm done, I think. The bathtub won't scorch." He glanced up. "You may have to work on that ceiling with a ladder and a little Comet or something, though, or you may get trouble about your deposit when you get ready to move."
She looked up at it. "Oh, how awful!"
"It's washable paint, and that's just smudges from grease smoke. It'll come off." He walked back to the bathroom and pulled his towel away from the pan in the tub. The towel was ruined. The pan was a blackened mess. The tub was okay, and the potatoes looked as if they'd survive.
"Unless you have a thing about potatoes out of the bathtub," he said, "I think you can go on cooking supper."
She looked at him, then got up and walked over. She went into the bathroom and looked into the tub. "Ugh! To hell with it!" She turned. "I think I'll just have a sandwich or a frozen dinner and drink myself into a stupor." She was quite close, and quite short. She looked up at him with sky blue eyes so deep set they shouldn't have been as wide and girlish as they were. "Oh, look at you! You were on your way down for a swim!"
"I, uh, think I'll forget it. I've had enough exercise."
"Oh, and your towel's ruined!"
He didn't say anything. It had been a good towel, and he had spent a couple of bucks on it. But he wasn't about to lament it in front of her.
She blew out her lips. "Phew! Lordy. I need a drink. I'll bet you wouldn't turn one down, would you, knight in shining armor?"
"I probably wouldn't."
"Listen," she said, wiggling over to the kitchen area. "I sure am glad you came along. I just went all scared and tense. That's never happened before. I'm a good cook.
He stood there admiring her back and the cute, smallish jut of her very round buttocks under the suede-like pants. "You sew, too."
She swung around with a bottle of Calvert's gin in her hand. "How'd you know?"
"Your blouse matches the covers on the furniture. I never saw a set like that."
She looked down at herself, doubling a chin too clean cut to double without a lot of pressure. On her, it was just cute.
"Oh, yeah. You're right. Are you a detective?"
He laughed. "No! I work in an office."
"Oh. Hey, I'm sorry ... Kathy Hardin."
"Hi, Kathy Hardin. I'm Ross Stender. I live up on Seven."
"Well, sit down, for heaven's sake. "You're my hero! Let me lay a Martini on you."
He went over and sat down on the couch. She had no dining room furniture, and had her bed fancily covered and festooned with varicolored pillows. The couch-several shades of blue and gray stripes, like her blouse-was also pillow strewn. Most of them were various blues, but the port-colored one picked up the color of the rug.
"You cook, and you sew, and this place is so nicely decorated it doesn't look like Heston Building. Kathy Hardin, you must be a decorator or something.
She laughed. "Ha! I'm assistant display manager at Berry's. Assistant display manager means there's just her and me and I do whatever she says. Like make signs on the damned machine in the basement. And sell in the Mod Shop on Saturdays." She sighed. "That may not last. I wore this blouse last Saturday and two different customers said they wanted one like it!"
She came over to him with two stemmed glasses precariously entwined in the fingers of her left hand and a pitcher half full of Martinis in her right. She was waggling it with a circular motion of her arm, so that the ice made tinging noises against the glass. He had noted that both gin and vermouth were in the fridge, and she had measured her mixture to a precise three to one ratio.
"Oh oh," she said, and held out the hand with the glasses. He extricated them, one after the other. And held them, while she poured.
"Oops!" She had managed to slosh a little on his foot. On his way to the pool, he had worn only woven nylon shoes, Florida shoes, without socks. He jerked his foot involuntarily; that stuff was cold.
I'm a total washout, you know it? Burned the 'taters and got the glasses tangled up-wonder I didn't break one-and now I've frozen your foot! Listen, you have really nice hair, you know it?"
He smiled, looking at the glasses he still held outstretched. She'd poured them both brim-full. "It's hair," he said.
"Well, let's see if I can give my rescuer a kiss without screwing up." She made a face. "I mean goofing up! Here." She bent over and kissed him. Held his arms out on either side of her. Each hand was desperately clutching a very full glass of Martini.
Her lips were very warm, arid they moved over his mouth. She made a little humming sound. Her eyes were closed. Her lashes were beautifully long. The top two buttons of her blouse was undone, and the shadowy cleavage between her breasts was beautiful. Her breath was sweet and her hair soft when it fell against his face. The kiss was long, and warm, and very nice.
The Martini she poured on his crotch was very cold.
"Yow!" he yelped, and jerked violently.
"Omigosh!" She jerked back. Her hip knocked one full glass spinning from his hand. She jerked reflexively away from that arm and her other hip nudged his other wrist, already wobbling precariously. She got half a glass of Martini down her pants leg.
"Yipe!" she cried, jerking violently. Her other hip slapped his other, now empty, hand. The Martini pitcher swung dangerously over his legs and its contents sloshed in oily smears up the sides of the pitcher.
"Everybody freeze!" he said.
She froze. Her hip felt unconditionally firm and warm and very welcome against his palm. She stared down at him with bright eyes. The contents of the pitcher stopped sloshing but continued to ripple with her shaking hand.
Drawing his other arm in slowly, he set the glass to his lips and drank. Good. Cold. Welcome, stinging cold down his throat and splashing into his stomach to melt and become fervid heat that was also very welcome.
He held out the glass. "Just in case we don't get out of this alive, here, drink the rest of this one. And I want you to know that I've always loved you, Katasha, and if this is it ... well I'm glad we're going out together."
She accepted the glass and he quickly took the pitcher. She started to drink, but burst out laughing instead. He was profoundly glad he'd taken the pitch er. Her hip quivered against his hand with her laughter.
"You are wonderful!" she cried, and she drank off the rest of the Martini.
"A little damp in the, ah, lap," he said.
She lowered the glass, blinking. She sighed, and what that did to her breasts inside the blouse was a delight to watch. "Oh, damn! You know what I'm going to do?"
I'm afraid even to think about it," Ross admitted.
I'm g-going to cry!"
"Oh, please don't! No use crying over spilt gin!"
She tried to laugh, didn't make it, and started crying. Enormous glistening tears rushed quivering down her cheeks.
"Oh, oh, damn!" she quavered out, sobbing piteously.
Ross already had a big hand on the fine swell of her hip. It was a simple matter and only natural for him to pull her down to hold her. She cuddled very nicely and warmly-although the pressure of her bottom on his lap pressed his jock against his genitals, and he was treated to a renewed sensation of cold wetness. And she wept.
"I-I ... I'mmm jjust a da-a-a-amned washout!"
"You are an absolutely beautiful and doll-like girl who is into a bad night," he told her, stroking her back.
She burrowed closer. "Good God, where-r-r-r-r've you been all m-m-m-my life?!"
Dry, he thought. But he sure and hell didn't say it. He had both arms full of marvelous woman flesh with the face, of a girl and the body of a teen temptress. He was content to keep things that way for awhile.
She settled down at last, sniffling. "Damn, what a fool I am! Here, let me see if I can do any better with nothing in my hands."
She did. She kissed hell out of him. His breathing began to heighten. His heartbeat began to step up again. So did hers, in both cases. One hard breast was trying to drill a hole in the front of his terry shaving robe, one of those shorty affairs that barely covered his crotch. Unfortunately, it didn't when he sat, or the towel-fabric might have soaked up the cold gin and vermouth she'd poured on him.
She pulled away at last, and they were both panting and clinging to each other. "Good ... gosh!" She wiggled a little, as if trying to burrow right in to him. "You really are something else! Right up on seven, huh?"
He nodded. She shook her head in distress.
"And me down here on one, with no one to put out my fires and pour Martinis on and kiss and ... oh! The Martinis! We're both wet!"
He had to laugh. His emotions were ambivalent. He was wet, and it was uncomfortable. But her remembering would mean breaking up the very comfortable seating arrangement. She had the warmest waist he'd ever felt. And very supple.
She looked around, frowning.
"You wearing trunks under your pants?"
"Uh-huh."
"I was afraid of that. Wet through. I hoped maybe you had your trunks in your pocket, or something. Boy. I sure don't have any men's pants around here. You'd play hell fitting in mine, tool Oh, hell! What're we going to do?"
"Sweat it," he said, "and have a Martini."
She laughed and started to get up. He hung on. She turned large blue eyes back on him.
"Um, we don't have to move," Ross said. "Pitcher's right here, and we can share a glass."
She giggled and kissed him. "But you're wet!"
"But you're sitting on it, and you're nice and warm."
"But I'm getting wet too, Ross!"
He had the Martini pitcher in his hand. "Well, maybe we'd better all take off our pants."
She glanced around. "All?" Then she sighed and held the glass while he poured. He was careful not to fill it up. "But if we both take off our pants, we'll just wind up making it. I mean, I think I'm nutty about you."
That shook him, the first part more than the last, but he managed to say, "I think you're nutty, period."
"Oh gosh. You're right." She sighed. "Here. Hold this."
He held the glass. He also put the pitcher back on the end table. And he stared, as Kathy got up and took off her shiny no-wale corduroy pants. She wore white briefs, lowslung and highcut, and her shirttails didn't quite cover them. She bent over him with a hand on his shoulder, touched his lips with hers, and took the glass.
"Your turn."
Ross got up and took off his pants.
"Oh, I like your trunks," she said. She cocked her head, standing there looking like something out of one of those old Debbie Reynolds movies, naked legs rounding beautifully below the tails of her shiny, striped blouse. "But they're wet, too."
He nodded. He took them off.
"Hey, that's a ... that's a jockstrap! Isn't it?"
"That's what it is." He took the glass and enjoyed a sip.
"I never saw one before. Boy, they're sexy, aren't they!"
"Uh-huh, I guess, I never thought about it. Did you know the tail of your blouse is wet?"
She lifted it to look. "Oh, wow, so it is!" And she unbuttoned the blouse and peeled it off. He got the shock of his life. She wasn't wearing a bra. She'd felt like she was!
"Good lord," he said. "You felt like you were wearing a bra!"
"Yes, isn't it nice?" She looked proudly down at herself.
Her perfectly molded cones of breasts jutted straight out from her chest, slightly to each side. The soft nipples were a lovely eggshell pink. "I got a real break, I think! I mean-they just stand there! They look very good under clothes, and they don't give me any trouble at all. You know, like flopping and swinging and all. Say ... you know ... your jockstrap's wet, too."
He nodded. "Yes, I've noticed. Got a towel?"
"There's this nice old gold one in there in the bathtub," she said, standing there in nothing but a pair of skimpy white panties that looked painted on. She was grinning. "But it is scorched a little, and there's some grease on it."
"I'm about ready to turn you over my knee," Ross said. He finished off the Martini. It, combined with the sight of her, spread a lovely warm glow all through him.
She pursed her lips. "Hmm ... I really doubt that I'd like that. Got any other ideas?"
"Yeah. Turn around."
She blinked, lifted an eyebrow, and turned around. God, what beautiful little ass cheeks! They looked like two cereal bowls firmly applied to her lower back, straining out the cloth of her panties.
"Just as I thought," he said. "Your pants're wet."
"Oh," Kathy said, and took them off.
He watched the magnificent action of her legs and her butts, which tightened on first one side, rising, and then on the other as she stripped down her panties and stepped out of them. She flipped them into the air as she turned. She faced him with a pleasant, eyebrows-up look. Again he stared. The bulge of her cunt didn't have enough hair on it to stuff a thimble made for a child.
She sighed. "Don't you dare stand there and tell me I look like a little girl. I am twenty-two years old and I can prove it!"
He scratched his head. "All right, I won't. You've heard that before, hm?"
"I have. Miss Sellmeyer, at the store, put the make on me the other night when we were supposed to be dressing the windows. She told me I looked like a child."
"Miss Sellmeyer. Was that nice?"
She shrugged, and her bare breasts barely moved. Each, he mused, was about hand size. And what marvelous handfuls! "It was all right," Kathy said. "I'll bet you're better."
"I think I'd better get out .of this wet supporter," he said.
"You know the first time I ever heard my older brother say something about an athletic supporter, I thought it was someone who cheered at ballgames. He had to explain to me what a jock was ... oh! That's a big one!"
"Come here, Kathy," he said, naked but for his short robe, and he flung that off. "I thought you'd never ask," she said, coming.
CHAPTER NINE
"Oh, oh ... oh man, oh God ... Go-o-odddd ... uh, ummm ... oh, Ross darling! I didn't dream that men liked to do this, too!"
"Feel good?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Dear lord, you know it!" Kathy squealed. She wriggled sharply.
"I'm glad. It's beautiful, Kathy. It deserves it."
"Ummmmmfflmmmfflfflffi! Oh, oh, ohh ... tell me again."
"Ummm!" She shivered and hugged herself in delight, staring up at the ceiling. Then she pressed her palms down onto the bed beside her and her stomach went taut as she raised herself up into a partial sitting position. "And you really like doing that?"
"Mm-hmm ... love it"
"I ... I thought only women put their mouths on men's ... genitals."
He lifted his face from between her thighs and her eyes and mouth went wide as she saw the glistening wet sheen on his chin and all around his mouth. 'It's a beautiful pussy, Kathy. I love to eat it. You taste as good as you look."
"Ah God!" She collapsed backward to he supine as though struck. Her body rippled and quivered under a continuing series of tremors.
Before he went back to what he'd been doing, Ross paused to gaze down at the center of his operations.
Her thighs were slim but rounded, tight and smooth of skin. The creases on either side where they joined her body were deep and strangely provocative. Her belly was very narrow, but gently rounded and rather soft. Sort of pushy-spongy, like her vulva.
It was a firm, definite, eye-catching bulge between the very tops of her thighs. The firm, soft flesh of that mounding crotch was only sprinkled with hair, and that was so soft and so silky and blonde that it was like the thinnest of moss or nylon thread; it was as if she had no pubic hair at all. The center of that mount was very pink.
When he had first bent his mouth to it, the mouth of her crack had been a mere slit that looked as if added to her Mount of Venus by a skilled hand wielding a razor blade. It had been the delicate color of the pink plant called "red" clover, that fine line slit.
Now it was an open gash. The sweet lips lay open between her widespread thighs, their wet, watered silk inner surfaces showing, as well as the darker inner lips with their strange little serrated edges. The oval hole through them was clearly visible, sparkling with moisture. And now it was all the color of ripe watermelon.
It was also wiggling, circling slightly, bumping up and down as she tensed and loosened her buttocks beneath her, then tensed them again, urging her lovely, childishly hairless vulva upward in quest of more of the same sensation that Miss Sellmeyer had given her. But Kathy swore that it was a lot better, coming from Ross.
He bent his head again to quench his lusty thirst from that intoxicating fountain.
He opened his mouth wide and pressed it down, encompassing lips and furrow between, and sucked strongly so that he closed them wetly around his tongue. He wiggled it in the damp slash.
Her moans were loud. Her mounded breasts heaved.
They jiggled and rolled slightly and speared their surging peaks upward. Beneath her sweating, pale body her ass cheeks writhed, tightening and relaxing in rhythmic unison so that she fucked herself up and down against his face.
His tongue probed the length of her dainty labia, running up and down the red gash until he tasted the salt of her secretions. Her inner glands saturated her with them, coated his tongue with them.
Her body seemed to scream in response-and with her desire to satisfy the sexual lustfulness he was raising to an overpowering pinnacle.
It was a night he needed to love and be loved, and obviously her need was the same.
He was inspired and excited by her cunt's heat and beauty and its flowing moistness. His tongue pushed back and forth, wiggling, as he mouthed her pussy and tickled between the wet, gaping lips. She sighed and made whimpering sounds, tiny ones from the throat. She loved his mouth, loved his tongue, loved the hand he slid up her body to massage her naked, strongly upsurging tits.
His nails scratched over their standing pink erections at the same time as he pressed his lips firmly against her vulva and sucked at the deep hole that pierced it.
She screamed aloud in utter titillation and delight. Thrills of sheer joyous pleasure shot through her little belly, making its white curve lurch and ripple. Her fingers scratched at the sheet, rumpling it into long ridges.
He used his teeth to tease the soft rubbery meat of her vulva.
It skidded and fluttered slipperily under his lips and busy tongue.
He shoved his tongue desperately into the hole as far as he could press it, then licked slowly out, maintaining an upward pressure and tasting faintly salty, slick fluid. His tongue emerged from the ovaled tunnel into her womb, slid through the fluted inner lips and upward, slickered over her clitoris.
She jerked. Her body tried to convulse. Her heels drummed and her hands slapped. She moaned as if stabbed. Her clitoris throbbed and quivered against his tongue.
She had one of those slippery lust buds he'd read about but never seen. He's never thought they existed, although Dave had once told him of reading in Havelock Ellis of a woman with a clitoris so well-developed she could fuck with it in tribadic love.
Kathy Hardin's might not be quite so big, but it was red and three-quarters of an inch long if it was a millimeter. It jutted out of the top of her love slit like a slim nipple on a small-bosomed woman who was mostly nipples.
There was enough of it to close his lips over, and suck, and he did.
Taa-a-a-a-e-e-e-eeeEEEEgga-O-a-afrHHHHHHHHI" she shrieked, and she came.
He smiled and continued to suck her clit until it retracted, diving back into its hood-almost out of sight. No more of it remained visible now than a normal woman's clit in throbbing erection.
The utter ecstasy of an exhilarating orgasm surged through the trembling sweat-damp length of her in a climax that made her scream and jerk and bounce up and down and then collapse, weak and sighing.
Ross slipped swiftly up beside her and started to kiss her lovely hard breast.
She grabbed him and pulled his face fiercely to hers. Her lips pressed hot and hard. Her tongue tried to lose itself in his mouth and when he stabbed his forward in return, she tried to suck it off. Her hands groped and grasped and slid over him. She hunched her hip against his flailing, pulsating erection.
Then again she sighed and sagged back
"Oh, oh, oh my darling! And to think I might have ... thank God for burning grease!"
He chuckled and played gently with her nipples, watching them quiver when he flicked them with his fingers, like shooting marbles but with much less force. She sighed in rapture and arched her back to surge them. Her hand fondled and caressed over his fur-covered scrotum and the full length of his cock. It was hugely erect.
Suddenly she propped herself up on one hand, again in a semi-sitting position, and looked down at it. It was a reddened tube of lust-hardened meat that stood up straight and proud above his balls, bobbing before his belly.
"Damn," she gasped. "It sure is big, isn't it!"
"Worried?"
She turned her avid eyes to him, pecked him swiftly and lovingly on the tip of the nose. "God no!" She lowered her eyes. "Well, maybe ... just a little." She stroked it. "It feels so silky ... and it's so hot! And it jumps when I ... oh, and this big vein." She looked into his face again.
"Ross, darling? Do I really taste good?"
He kissed her pretty cupid's bow mouth. "Lovely," he told her quietly. "Doesn't it?"
"How should I ... oh. Your mouth and tongue ... limp! I didn't even think about that! I was kissing and sucking myself, wasn't I?"
He grinned. His hand moved over to lie over one extremely firm knob of her breast. He pressed the thrusting tit down, rubbing his palm over its tight crest. Her eyes rolled up and she shuddered.
"Does yours taste good, too?"
"I don't have one. Sorry."
She tugged at his cock. "I mean this, silly! Your dong."
He shrugged. "Think about it. Unless all the heat you've generated in me has evaporated all the alcohol, it probably tastes like Martini."
She giggled, then looked down again at the winsome cock and balls her hand held. Her little tongue came out and slicked over her lips. She snapped her head up and looked anxiously at him. "Ross?"
He raised his eyebrows in a silent "what?"
"I'm going to taste it!"
"I won't stop you."
She scrunched quickly down and pressed a long, warm, lingering kiss on the very tip of the big knob. His cock lurched and throbbed wildly under the delightful pressure, and she had to hold it steady with her hand. She sucked slightly, repeatedly, making little sp-sp-sp noises.
Then, crouched over his crotch, she looked up at him. "Ross? It tastes just lovely!"
He stroked her hair, smiling.
Then he damned near fell off the bed when she pushed her mouth down over the bulgy crown and ran it straight down the rigid pink staff.
"Glp!" Her eyes bulged. She slid her mouth back off. "I ... I think I overdid it," she said, returning the stare of the reddish eye in the end of his cock. It was weeping.
She tucked it into her mouth again. This time she eased it down, very slowly. In seconds her mouth was stretched torturously wide around the slick pole, but she didn't care. She kept on taking it in until she made a helpless gagging sound when the blood-filled head burrowed into her throat.
She eased back a little. "Ummm!" she hummed.
He stared down at her. It was beautiful, incredibly exciting to see her mouth bulging around his bone, her jaws strained by it, her cheeks slightly sunken because they were stretched so tightly over her cheekbones.
Sliding a hand over his hip, she patted his butt and began easing her head back and forth, back and forth, fucking and masturbating his cock in the tender haven of her mouth. She was suddenly going wild on the turgid root, sucking hard with soft pliant lips and sloshing her tongue all over and around it.
"Hunh," he gasped, "uh-huh ... hunnnnht Kathy!"
She paused. Keeping her face full of cock, she rolled her eyes questioningly up.
"You're fucking me with your mouth, sweetheart," he said, reaching down to stroke her naked, hard tit. "You're about to get a mouthful of semen."
She slid her mouth backwards off the slimy pole and held it before her face with her hand, staring at its tip as if she faced a naughty child. "It is? You wouldn't!"
He chuckled. "With that kind of attention, I have absolutely no control over it. Remember when I sucked your clitoris?"
She shuddered violently. "God! How could I ever forget! Same thing, hmm?"
"Same thing."
She sighed. "Well, would you mind just putting it up me and just balling me good?"
Smiling, he grabbed her and turned her onto her back. She smiled up at him, but her face looked a little cloudy.
"Ross? I'm sorry I sucked it almost off ... make it last, will you? Move real slow once you're in."
He nodded, sliding his knees up between her parted thighs.
"Oh," she said hurriedly, "but please, please listen, I want you to put it in real fast. All at once, all the way, okay?"
Grinning, he nodded. "Rape first, then love, right?"
"Yes!" she said, laughing. Nervously.
He eased forward, lowering his butt but holding himself propped above her with his palms beside her shoulders. She watched his face. She licked her lips. Her eyes flared slightly when his gliding hips pushed throbbing cock forward to nudge the lips of that juicy, clasping hole.
She felt the sticky lass of his prick's seeping lubricating fluid. It slicked her labia, moistened them, and they sagged delightedly open.
"Now," he said.
"Now," she whispered. "All at once!"
She jerked her body forward to meet him as he lunged roughly to sink his warmth-seeking missile into the furnace of her inner flesh. Like a rubber ring, her cunt lips chomped around the shaft of his penis and clung to it, all along its driving length. Something seemed to plaster itself to the head, holding it back, and then he was buried in the incredibly hot grasp of her cunt. It was also unbelievably tight.
Her nails were trying to dig holes in his arms. Her face screwed up and contorted and tears leaked from her tight-closed eyes. Her brows were pulled together and down in a frown.
"Oooooh, God," she gasped in a straining little voice. "Oh, ohh ... Goddddd."
Frowning, wondering, he bent his head to kiss first her left breast, then her right. More kisses he planted on her chin and mouth and the top of her nose, then on each shuttered eyelid. He tasted salt. He lowered his weight onto his forearms so that their bodies just touched, without his leaning on her.
Slowly her eyes opened. Slowly her mouth closed. Her nostrils quivered, and her mouth opened again to emit a long gusty sigh.
She smiled.
"It hurt."
"Oh, baby," he whispered. "I've never thought I was so damned big before. You're like a glove, like a stretch plastic one, gripping me."
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I like that," she whispered. "I don't think I care to be a glove."
He smiled and kissed the hollow of her throat. "You aren't, then. You're like the world's tightest pussy You're like ... like a virgin."
Her hands twitched on his arms. She giggled, and he felt her belly rippling with it, under him. Straining her neck, she raised her head to kiss him. Then her head fell back.
"Well, I couldn't keep it a secret, anyhow. There'll be some blood, won't there? That's what I've always read and heard."
He stared at her. No! Not really! He started a long slow withdrawal. Her hands clamped.
"No ... oh-oh ... wait a moment longer. Unh! Still hurts."
"Kathy .. are you really twenty-two?"
"Last June. I swear."
"And ... I'm the first?"
She smiled brightly. "Yes. Isn't that wonderful? I've been waiting for you for twenty-two years I"
He sagged down and rested his cheek on her breast, staring at the wall. His hands moved in to cup her shoulders and squeeze. "Oh, good lord!"
"Ross? You're not ... mad? I mean ... I'm sorry. I just never happened to ... you know. The time never seemed right. Tonight just did. It came over me all of a sudden. And it was all so easy, all that crazy stuff, spilling the Martini and telling each other we were wet and everything. And I wanted to show you myself. Then I wanted to ... I wanted you to screw me." She kissed his ear. "Ross?"
He raised his head to meet her gaze.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, good lord, you darling!" He squeezed her shoulders, hard, and kissed her with the same fervent force. Then he lifted his head to look down at her again. His prick still pulsed hotly up her virginal channel.
"I still do, you know."
He frowned. "Still do ... what?"
She hugged him, smiling. "I still want you to screw me!" She seemed to concentrate, as though thinking. He felt it: a gripping little clutch, all around his imbedded penis.
"Good lord," he gasped again.
"It doesn't hurt any more. I guess it will, a little, but the worst is over now, isn't it? I mean it's broken and that's that. Now we can do it and do it! I've heard it all my life, way back in grade school, that corny old line. It only hurts for a little while.'"
"If it hurts, I'm not going to stop," he told her. "If you groan, I won't stop. Understand?"
"Sure. I love it right now. Have you ever had your body feel all full and like that's what you're for ... I guess not," she said, breaking off into a little chuckle. "Well," she said primly, "please fuck me now, darling."
Ross pulled, nearly all the way, and when he elevated himself and looked down he could see the red smears on his cock.
"Blood?" she asked.
He nodded. "It'll get on the sheet."
She laughed. "I'll save it! Maybe I'll cut it out and save it, and patch the sheet with a big piece of denim or something ... fire engine redT
"You darling," he said laughing.
"You don't mind if I think I love you, do you?"
He shook his head. "No, I don't mind."
"Be gentle, now."
"Kathy."
"Hm?"
"Be quiet Hush up. Think good thoughts and en Joy"
He lay there and let his prick coast in and out of her tight little virgin's slit for many minutes in short, slow strokes that did little to build his orgasmic lust but that soon had her sighing and beginning to breathe faster and faster and more and more loudly.
"Good God ... it's great!"
He chuckled. "You were warned to silence," he told her, pretending to bite her pointed breast. "Now you're going to get yourself fucked!"
She jiggled, all over, excitedly.
He began shoving deeper and faster, ignoring her groans.
He flexed his loins in and out to slap her deeply pierced mound, surging between her damp thighs and into her uncharted cunt with a steady pounding of his body on hers. Her body jerked with the force of his thrusts-and with tingling surges of passion. Her groans changed completely to sounds of passion and rapture and delight.
Her mouth hung limply ajar, crooning softly into the dimness of the room, into the little circle of light cast by the one lamp they had left on. She had one hell of a prominent clit, he knew, and he also knew it was receiving one hell of a lot of gliding pressure from his pelvic bone and his cock, which was so tight against the top of her cuntal opening.
He had to let go with his palms and flatten his arms on the bed beside her to support himself. He was gasping, and so was she. Their gasps merging, they smiled at each other with eyes full of that shine you get when you're fucking and it is Good.
Their entwined pubic hair, what there was of hers, was matted with the sweat that joined their bellies. His big gripping cock was sunk as deep inside her quivering virgin's belly as their tight-jammed bodies could get it, and he paused there.
Her body jerked violently as she began humping him, fast and furious. She slapped her crotch up at his with a strong sinuous force that nearly bounced him out of her. Then she relaxed, gasping.
Swiftly, he propped his body above hers on both palms, so that they were united only at the loins. He poised there, watching her watch him nervously and expectantly. She writhed suddenly, as if in spastic compulsion.
Straining, she began anew that bouncing of her hips rapidly, in spasmodic jerks that ensheathed his long stiff cock staff deeply in her. He held himself still, poised above her and imbedded in her, glorying in the pervading, burning ecstasy of being fucked by her.
Her strained, suspended body was jarred constantly by the plumbing savagery of her own bucking movements.
He saw her face contort with her own strain. She was tiring.
He let himself drop onto her in a crush of passion that splatted his chest down onto the upsurging cones of her bosom. She grunted. Titty tips punched at him, hot pressures against his skin. His weight crushed the soft masses of that, despite their fantastic firmness, they squelched thickly out on either side of their joined bodies.
Gripping her shoulders in cupped, pulling hands and digging in with his toes, he drove hard into her in a grinding lustful cruelty that brought little spurts of sound from her gasping mouth and buried his cock so far up in her that she felt she was riding a fencepost. His pelvic bulge and the upper surface of his prick pressed firmly against her outsized clitoris.
"Oh ... oh, oh my go ... wow aaaaaaaaaaaahh!"
She was coming in a surging series of hot orgasms that kept jolting her, one time after another. Emitting squeals of rapture, she clawed at him in an attempt to drag him back down onto her trembling, jerking, gasping body.
Emitting screams of almost agonized delight, she quivered to the feeling of indescribable beauty that swelled in her abdomen.
Her tight cunt went even tighter all around the big throbbing bone he had planted so far up inside her.
"Uh ... ugggghhh," he gasped, then winced and jerked and went stiff all over. His cock started jerking. Her eyes flared wide; he was so far in and she was so new and tight that she felt the warm bath flooding her darling pussy.
He blew his balls far into her, sending warm waves of sperm jetting into the well-widened recess of her belly.
Slowly, quivering, he let himself down onto her sweat-streaked body.
"Now, baby, now you have been fucked."
"God, I sure have!" She grasped him tightly to her, giggling and sobbing all at once in a rapture of joy.
CHAPTER TEN
"Ross ... darling," Kathy said, after their second torrid screw. She lay on her back with her legs clamped tightly together to savor the feel and the knowledge of his sperm in her. He had made a nervous suggestion, but she had laughed and told him that she'd been on the pill over two years, wasting a fortune.
He lay beside her. They were holding hands. "Hm?"
"You're not married, are you?"
"Absolutely not. Never been. Never even been engaged."
She sighed. "Good. How about ... uh, you know. Somebody real special."
"Kathy...."
"I know, I know. I'm starting right in to sound like I'm making demands. I'm not, really. I just need to know, you know." She rose up and propped herself on one elbow to lean over him. One naked tit prodded shamelessly at his chest.
"What I was thinking about was ... well, this is Thursday. Night."
"It's probably Friday morning," he groaned.
"No, believe it or not it's just after eleven thirty. The clock's over there on the other side of you. Anyhow, what I was thinking about was tomorrow's Friday, and then it's Saturday, and do you work on Saturday?"
"Nope."
"ShitI Well I do, but I don't have to get there until ten, you know, that's when clothing stores open. They don't give a damn whether I show up or not on Saturdays, really, except in the real busy seasons. But ... I do usually pick up a few extra slices of bread in commission." She looked down, saw her nipple resting on his chest, and wagged her shoulders to watch it trace out a lascivious little design on his skin. She shivered in a sudden spasm of joy.
"Well ... so then it's Sunday...."
"Very likely, the next day will be Monday," he said.
She punched a finger into his side. "All right, all right. The reason I was asking you about, ah, commitments, you know, is ... well lord, I'd love to just do this all weekend!"
He pulled her down onto him, across his chest "Yeah," he said, and kissed her. "What's yeah mean?"
"Yeah means so would I."
She wiggled, stroking his thigh with her soft pussy. He felt a cold wet touch, and knew she was leaking his sperm. It was an exciting realization.
"Well shall we?"
"Are you telling me you, the best-looking female I've ever seen, don't have commitments? No weekend dates?"
"You say yes and I cancel tomorrow."
"Oh, Kathy." He pulled her down against him again. "Oh, Kathy."
You mongoloid idiot, he thought. You asshole, Ross! You've got two women....Have I? They both went out tonight! And look at me-if I'd snatched at Rosemary's phone call I'd never have met this wonderful girl!
"Yes, Kathy," he said, pressing her tightly to him, "let's."
He hated like hell to have to drag himself out and back up to his apartment. But he did. And found the note under the door.
"We both had dates tonight. I mean like dates. Boy, isn't that irrelevant to the three of us! You've spoiled us for life, loverman. Thank God we've got a long weekend upcoming." It was signed with a scrawled "BEEJO." Yeah, Ross thought, and went to bed.
Strangely enough, the telephone was ringing again the following night when he came in. Not Rosemary! he thought, picking it up.
No, not Rosemary. Kathy, and she started sniffing as soon as they'd said hello.
"I've got two things to tell you, and both of them bother hell out of me," Kathy said.
"You are supposed to have some good news and some bad news," he grinned at the phone, "not two bad newses. What's the matter, Kath?"
"The first one is I think I love you." Unlike Rosemary, Kathy didn't wait for his reaction, or even give him a chance. "The other one is the largest rectal pain I can think of. In about two hours my mother and sister will be here, from Poughkeepsie. To spend the weekend with darling me. Isn't that just marvy!"
"It's a goddamn criminal act," Ross said.
"Oh, Ross! I want you! I want your body! I want your hands and your mouth on me, and your penis in me!"
"Just those words," he said, "gave me an instant erection." And he was telling the truth.
"God damn!" she snapped. "Oh hell, hell, hell!" Then she sighed, sniffled, and said, "I've got to start getting ready to receive my darling family, Ross. Oh, Ross, I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry, Kathy."
"Good ... good-bye, Ross."
"Good-bye? Hell, good night. Buzz me if they leave early?"
"God, you know id" She made a kissing sound. Isn't that juvenile!"
"Sure is," he said, and made a kissing sound back.
She laughed, and he laughed, and they hung up.
God damn! Ross thought, jerking at his clothes.
He turned on the oven, undressing. 'Nutha chicken potpie from th' Mo'ton fokes, down in Kentucky, he thought bitterly.
He was stripped to shorts and wondering why the hell he'd bothered and what to put on when the phone rang again. Reprieve-Kathy's people weren't coming after all! He snatched it up.
"Hel-lo," Hank's voice said softly. "We're having a par-ty."
"A party," he said, recovering. "Who's coming?"
She gave him a lewd chuckle. "Everybody! But the only guest will be you, doll. How does an obscenely large mess of shrimp grab you as a dinner idea?"
"I never saw an obscene shrimp, but it sounds great."
"They're already in the deep-fryer. Bring something to drink." She said a kissing sound.
He closed his eyes. A kissing sound; like Kathy. And how the hell would he ever be able to so much as hear of a deep-fryer again, without thinking of her?
Get it outta your mind, Ross me boy, he told himself firmly. She's somebody you met yesterday. Hank and Beejo are practically family. Not to mention two of the least inhibited and sexiest females in the country!
"Okay," he said.
"Hurry along. Beejo's making these crazy Martinis."
* * *
God damn, he thought, it's a damned conspiracy to keep reminding me of Kathy!
Well, you could always say no and curl up with a few nice books and your right hand for the weekend, he told himself.
That would be dumb, he replied, to himself.
"Be right along," he told Hank and hung up. He pulled a shirt and wash pants out of the closet Abruptly, just a moment ago, he had realized that he, too, had his hang-up. It was his sense of honor, or ethics, morality, justice ... whatever. It was honed to too sharp a point. Last night he'd applied it to the call from Rosemary, and said No. Later, just before he left Kathy's he'd been on the edge of saying No to her suggestion for the weekend, because of some sort of feeling of honor-responsibility?-regarding Hank and Beejo.
Now it had swung the other way, and he'd actually considered turning down a weekend with the sexy pair.
Dumb, he thought, buckling his belt. Honor's one thing; being a dummy is another. Take life-and the opportunities it brings-as it comes. And take the opportunities to come, too!
At the door, he remembered the oven, and went back and turned it off. Sorry about that, Colonel Morton. Come to think, I wonder if I'm going to have some of your frozen shrimp? He went out and down the hall to good old 722.
Beejo opened the door. "Hi!" she practically yelled.
"Good lord!"
"Well just don't stand there and gawk, loverman, no matter how much I dig it. Get your butt in out of that cold hall and trade that paper sack in for a cold Martini!"
He went in. Hank waved at him from the stove. "Good lord! Both of you!"
They were both wearing hot pants. Or the shortest short-shorts in creation. Beejo's were purple, Hank's black. Both pair were otherwise just a-like, velour. And both were V-fronted, some sort of stretch stuff that clung tightly and dipped wildly in front to display their navels.
Underneath they both wore pantyhose: Hank's scarlet and Beejo's black. Both wore white sandals with straps to the knees.
And that was all. They were naked from the deep V of the front of their hot pants up. Jiggling, swinging, swaying, shuddering tits bounced naked-unless you counted the paint.
Grinning, Beejo shoved a cold stemmed glass full of clear, oily liquid into his hand. A miniature saber skewered the olive.
"Lord, you two ... what the hell is that?"
"What's what, loverman?"
Jiggling the cage containing the shrimp in the pan of boiling oil, Hank touched one bare breast with her other hand. "Poor baby, he's forgot! That's a tit, Ross. A jug. A boob. Bubbie. Milk-wagon. A breast, even."
He sipped the Martini. It was cold. He sighed. Well, at least he didn't get it dumped into his crotch...."You know damned well what I mean! Is that paint?"
Hank's nipples were a glowing, somehow glistening fiery red. Four stripes of the same color radiated out from the areolas and ended where her jugs joined her body. Beejos had been done up with the same stuff, although she'd applied a series of dots of scarlet all around the perimeter of her brown areolae, rather than covered them with red as Hank had done.
They exchanged a glance and giggled. "Simple body paint, mixed up with Kool-Aid," Beejo told him. "It tastes just lovely!"
"We're both cherry!" Hank cried.
"Jesus," he said, starting to sag into a chair. Then he said, "Wait a minute ... let's check that." He cupped one of Beejo's big tits and lifted it as he lowered his mouth to it. She was right. The nipple tasted sweet, slightly cherry flavored. What a wild idea!
"Eep!" she squealed. "Your mouth's cold with Martin-eye!"
Ross released her breast and sank down on the couch. It had been shoved against the wall. The bed was down and now he saw what he'd missed before, eyeballing the girls. They'd done a little interior decorating, too. The bed was unmade, but the sheet was army-sleek and taut, and very shiny. Sheet and pillow cases were black satin. He had to go over and run his hand over it. Oh boy, he thought "You two been shopping?"
"We're going to save a fortune, living here together and splitting the rent" Hank said.
"So we spent some of the money we'll be saving next month," Beejo added, grinning.
"Drink up," Hank called, picking her Martini from the edge of the pull-down range and chugalugging. She shivered. "Guh-brrrrrl Shrimp's ready, and you'd better be hungry, because there's enough here for about six people. What'd you bring?"
Two bottles of he Boute a Rotis," he said.
"You brought wha'?"
"It's a table wine with the craziest label you ever saw," he said.
Beejo popped one out of the brown paper bag, they laughed at the label, and they ate Hank's "obscenely large mess" of shrimp. Off paper plates. The tall wine bottle was empty by the time they finished the shrimp, and they opened the other one. Beejo amused herself by rubbing against Ross. He amused himself by eyeing low-cut, tight-assed shorts and naked, luridly painted tits.
"Well," Beejo said, "now for the party."
"We going to play games?"
"Nope," Hank said. "We're going to bed."
Hand in hand, she and Beejo went to the bed. Ross stood there wearing a little frown, looking at the long swaying contours and hollows of their naked backs and the way the hot pants molded their buttocks. Not for long.
Leaning on each other and without turning around, they stripped off the super-short-shorts. Little flashes of skin and hair as they did so showed him that their pantyhose were equipped with flap-crotches, sort of like old-time long underwear. Sensible, he thought, and convenient. Now ... what's this game they're playing?
They stretched on the black satin sheet, which displayed them magnificently, like intriguingly curvaceous gems displayed on a jeweler's black velvet case. Hank looked positively snowy white against the shiny black, and even Beejo looked somewhat paler.
Without paying him the least bit of attention, they began kissing and fondling each other. He watched their hands slide over each other's blatantly writhing hips, over the panty-hosed buttocks, between the rubbing thighs. He heard their kissing sounds. He grinned.
It was fun to watch. Exciting. And now he knew the game. It was called Let's Get Together and See What Ross Does. Well, for awhile he would be content to watch, to allow himself to be tantalized and titillated by their writhing female bodies, somehow sexier in the accessible pantyhose than naked.
Then they began slipping and sliding and clambering, on their knees, and he had beautiful glimpses of big jumping tits tipped with scarlet peaks like ripe cherries begging to be eaten.
On their sides, facing in opposite directions, they circled up into a sixty-nine position. The entire room took on an atmosphere of sultry sensuality.
He stood there and listened and watched as tongues slithered over quivery clit-buttons and into slippery slashes, each of them writhing and twisting and moaning under the oral attentions of the other. Suddenly Hank hoisted one leg. He saw Beejo's hand in its hollow. Sheer nylon cloth tore. Hank's pantyhose were now slit from one end of the waistband to the other, straight down the slit of her body and up the crease in back. He saw something else, too, only glimpsed: they had also applied that crazy, sexy, crimson paint to their cunt lips.
Then Beejo's pantyhose got the same treatment They were still sexily encased in the tight-fitting, skin-molding nylon, but they were totally open, their bodies' holes available to each other-and to the watching man. He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it over a chaff.
Remembering his own fortune of a few days past, he backed to the door. Without taking his eyes off the mutual cunnilinguists, he checked the lock. All okay. There'd be no Ross-type peeping Tom. He peeled off his pants and shoes. He hadn't bothered with shorts or socks.
Beejo's hand was in the crack between Hank's ass cheeks, and her arm was moving, moving. Their faces were still pressed firmly into each other's crotches, and he knew that each woman's mouth was merged sweetly with a second pair of lips while their tongues snaked into-open, oozing gashes.
Naked, he went over to the bed and bent to begin playing with Beejo's large and opulent rump. She quivered and writhed and he heard her chuckle of welcome to his acceptance of their silent invitation. He bent to kiss each cheek, pressing his lips hard against the nylon to dent the flesh beneath. Then he peeled the swollen and shiny globes of her ass apart and blew into the deep cleavage between them.
She shivered and jiggled, and he felt the pressure against his fingers as her cheeks tried to huddle together. He blew again, and let her feel his chin between them. Then he slid his hand down the crack, down and under, and found the bulging ridge of her black-furred vulva. His finger came into contact with a slithering tongue. Grinning, he shoved his finger up Beejo's cunt, pulled it out, pierced it again, and then slid it around until he found Hank's mouth. He pushed his pussy-wet finger inside.
"Suck Beejo," he murmured. Instantly Hank's mouth clamped his finger tightly and he felt the strong suction.
With his other hand he reached over and between them, finding and mauling Hank's breasts with a simulated callousness. She gasped around his finger and impaled her mouth on it in order to slide her tongue excitedly over his palm. He grabbed her chin, held it, then slipped his hand back, just enough to run two fingers up Beejo's cunt.
"Unnnngh!" she gasped, pulled her face momentarily out of the fork of the other woman's thighs. "Bite her lips," he said, separating his fingers in her. "No!" Hank squeaked.
He tightened his hand around the fleshy mass of her painted breast. "Bite her cunt lips, Beejo."
"Huuhhhhh!!" Hank gasped out, shuddering and writhing as Beejo obeyed. "Owl Ross ... you bastard!"
He released her breast and set a knee on the bed. Leaning over Beejo's hip, he slapped Hank's left buttock, with force.
"Glugl-l-l!" Beejo gurgled, for Hank had jerked forward at the spanking impact, shoving her bulging mound into the brown girl's face.
Ross made her gasp still again, slicking his fingers out of her. He trailed them up between the broad cheeks of her rump and wiggled one into the lipless hole there.
Swinging his leg over, he rested his butt lightly on Beejo's big hip, half-supporting himself with his feet planted against the slick surface of the satin sheet. His finger remained imbedded in Beejo's asshole. Each woman's face remained imbedded in the other's crotch. And Hank sucked the middle finger of his other hand, covering it with saliva.
She gasped, wiggled, jerked and sighed as he twitched it into her anus. It was not so readily accepting as Beejo's, and he wondered if Hank had ever had her snug and heated asshole expanded by several inches of good hard cock. (Which reminded him that maybe it was virginal, which reminded him of Kathy, which pissed him off.)
Nevertheless, feeling like a callous male chauvinist bastard, he closed his eyes and thought of the delectable blonde down on the first floor-with her mommy and sibling-while he skewered two entirely different women with a finger buried up the rectal passage of each. He moved his wrists slightly, easing the fingers in and out in gentle, short fucking motions.
Then he departed both warm vise-like grips, listening to their startled little sighing gasps as their tiny channels were suddenly abandoned by the invading fingers. Sliding sidewise, he wound up on his side behind Hank. He wiggled a little, smiling. The satin sheet was very cool and very slick and sensuous.
He let her feel the swollen glans of his harpoon against her ass, let the cockhead twitch in between her buttocks. She tightened them instantly together.
Don't worry about it, he thought, reaching down to take himself in hand.
He guided his cock under and between the lower curves of her butt to find the heated hole of her crotch. He filled it up in one swift slide. She was lake-wet, fired up and well lubricated from Beejo's tonguing.
"Ah ... aahhhhh!" Hank gasped, throwing her head back. "You lose, Bee ... I got it first. Oh lord ... it feels good, good!"
"You bitches got up a bet?" he cried, in laughing incredulity, and he slapped a twitching ass cheek of each. Hank was right. It did feel good. Her cunt was very wet and hot, but it was also tightened up because of her lying on her side with her thighs adding pressure to the crack. Cuntal muscles gripped him fervently with continued pulsations and delicious inner contractions. He sawed it in and out a few times-then shuddered and stopped dead still when he felt a wet tongue wrestling over the shaft when it emerged from the clasp of those scarlet-painted lips.
He held still, smiling, his eyes glazing, enjoying the sensation of having his cock half-imbedded in one woman's pussy while the other licked its staff, even pushing her tongue into the slippery slit to lick a little more of him-and Hank, at the same time.
"Oh, oh," Hank moaned. "God ... a tongue and a cock all at once ... what've I done to deserve this? Ummmm!"
"Not a damned thing," Ross said, letting his prick slip out of her. She whined and shoved her rump back, but the big cunt-slick head of his penis had been caught up in a sucking mouth. Beejo mouthed it sweetly and ran her tongue all over the bulb that forced her lips wide.
Ross caressed and stroked and palpated Hank's haunch, then slipped two fingers under and into the wet hole he had just vacated. She hunched it, her own hands grabbing Beejo's big cushions of tit and squeezing them as if in search of milk.
Flexing his buttocks backward, Ross retrieved his prick from Beejo's mouth. As it slithered back between Hank's thighs, he pressed his hand against the top of the shaft, so that it was forced up. He moved slowly, letting it slide wetly up and down between the soft pink swells of a writhing silky-skinned ass. Hank sighed but tightened her cheeks fearfully.
He slithered up and over her head and Beejo's hip and in seconds was sliding his inflamed staff in under the thigh Beejo quickly raised. He tucked it between the warm, slippery love lips and on into her juicy vaginal cavern. A mass of silken, flaccid flesh closed about it and she wiggled, fucking herself. Then he felt the presence of a vagrant tongue again.
It felt him, and immediately began dancing a merry little jig of pure sensuality along the shaft every time it made its partial withdrawal from the scarletlipped nook it probed.
Again he let it slide all the way out, and again it was willingly clasped in a warm female mouth. Snuggling up .close to Beejo's back and big rump, he reached over her body to fondle, tenderly, Hank's panting breasts. She surged them with a swift hot ripple of sensuality. She made sexy slurping sounds as her hungry mouth clamped his torrid cock and ate away at it.
Hearing the sucks, Beejo began imitating them noisily. Her mouth sucked hard at the tender, painted lips of her roommate's vulva. Ross managed to squirm his hand down and get it into the sweltering crease between the jutting, well-spaced tan hemispheres of her butt.
The three of them sucked and fondled in mutual and highly excited pleasure. Hank's hand wiggled against his and Beejo groaned as a second finger slid into her easy anus. Hearing Hank gasp around his cock, Ross knew that the brown woman had reciprocated by impaling her roommate's tiny rear orifice.
Ross let his prick slither out of the mouth that held it so sweetly. Guiding it out between Beejo's thighs, he steered it up and pulled Hank's hand free as he took his own finger out of her friend's ass. Then he held Hank's trembling hand there, letting her feel his prick slither through her fingers as it made its slippery way through the tight cleft and into the hot constricting anal tube-way.
"Ah ... ah m-m-mmmmmm," Beejo sighed. She shuddered all over, quivering in response to the hot flesh pole that slipped up the hot hole between her well-fleshed ass cheeks.
Hank's fingers felt madly about, as though each were equipped with eyes that could not believe what they saw: a snug female bottom hole taking every inch of a big throbbing male prick.
"God ... Bee? Doesn't that hurt?"
"Ye-e-e-ess ... and ... I love it," Beejo said, in a strained voice.
Hank seemed to chew on that in thoughtful silence, while Ross wiggled his hips to get his cock up Beejo a bit deeper, feeling the steady diminishing of pressure as the soft, firm foam rubber walls accustomed themselves to the plowing of his cock. His hands now gripped her big flanks firmly, holding her in place while he began to fuck her ass.
Hank's hand slithered around, over the wobbling cheeks, into the crack, over his prick shaft as it slid out only to return much faster into the hot hole. Her fingertips pressed against the widespread elastic ring of the delicate hole he raped, and tested its straining, stretched surfaces. She shivered. He held still so that she could explore to her satisfaction.
But Beejo could not stand that lack of activity. Only the big knob was implanted, well within her anus. Just beside it snuggled Hank's questing finger. Gathering herself, Beejo shoved strongly back.
"G-a-a-ar-r-rhhhh!" she cried, in sudden shocked discomfort.
Her backward movement was so strong and had come so suddenly that her asshole not only swallowed up his prick, but Hank's finger as well. The constriction was extreme. His penis throbbed painfully, pressed tightly within the hot tight passage, and practically dented by Hank's finger that was crushed so tightly against it by the very tightness and strength of Beejo's straining little rectal envelope.
Now the big tawny girl trembled. Her quavering hot vault tried to shit both finger and cock out of her.
Hank quivered and groaned in sympathetic anguish, not knowing whether to pop her finger out or leave it in. Ross stroked and patted the larger woman's quivering hips consolingly.
Then Beejo mustered her strength and jerked violently forward. Her scream split the air open as she jerked her stretched and terribly strained anus off the dual delving of cock and finger. She lay weakly on the bed, quivering and moaning.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, darling," Hank kept saying, huddling up to the big brown body and stroking with both hands while her mouth nuzzled wetly oozing cunt lips. At the same time, Ross was stroking his spit-wetted fingertips gently over Beejo's outraged anus. It squeezed and contracted tightly, nearly vanishing in the valley it split open.
Beejo's panting slowed down, then took on a different tone. Knowing that Hank was making amends by sucking and licking her clitoris, Ross reached quickly over to grasp the outsized globes of brown bosom. His fingertips found the painted cherries stuck in their centers and pressed them, harder and harder.
Beejo came gasping and jerking, practically spurting out warm slickery cunt juice that the other girl lapped up quickly and ardently.
Then Beejo twisted around, abruptly presenting her ass to Hank's startled face and pressing her big breasts into Ross's chest. She hunched against him with uninhibited lust. The proud, wildly pulsing dome of his cock grazed over the black thicket of her pubic fleece and ran into her cunt without the hint of hesitation or restraint or difficulty.
"Ah God, loverman!" Beejo practically growled, huskily from her throat. She squirmed and wiggled, pulling him atop her and getting under him. Her legs jerked up and wrapped, grasping him with thighs and straining calves. Her arms whipped around him to clutch him, hard.
She gasped and jerked, rubbing and twisting on the satin sheet and grasping the hard muscles of his ass with both hands to pull him deep into her voracious cunt. His cock was completely lost in the cleft of her hot, moist belly. She pumped it on him, up and down the shaft, and he spurted in seconds.
Closing his eyes as he felt it lunging violently from him, he knew a moment's disorientation. Then he seemed to be elsewhere, despite the voluptuous size of the titsy, hippy brown woman under him.
Kathy, he thought, Kathy....
Hank brought him back to present reality with a jar.
"God damn," she snapped plaintively, "I really got left out of this onel And all because I happened to go and lose my stupid finger in Beejo's ass!"
Laughing, Beejo and Ross fell on her and sucked her dry, until she was screaming for them to stop.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ross lay back and watched, goggling.
It was tremendously, violently exciting to watch and listen while Hank's avid mouth sucked his spermy liquor out of Beejo's cunt. And to feel and hear Beejo, cleaning up his semen-smeared prick, that had been in her ass and in both hers and Hank's vaginas. She sucked it clean and sinning while Hank did her cunt the same service.
Then they both grinned at him, with wet, glistening mouths.
He felt a lurching sensation deep in his belly when Hank ran her tongue out to lick her lips languidly, lasciviously, like a milk-stuffed cat licking its little mouth in deep satisfaction after slurping the bowl clean.
Both women were on their hands and knees, facing him. Each had one leg kneeling between his open thighs. Their red-tipped tits hung down jiggling and rippling. Hank twisted her neck to look at Beejo.
"Ummm," she said, licking her lips again and swallowing. "Do you like the taste of semen?"
Grinning, Beejo nodded.
Hank hugged her. "You must try it the way I just did sometime! Getting it second-hand is sort of a shame ... but it's so lovely, sucking his sperm out of your cunt!"
"God," Ross said, sliding easily down in the bed until he had to stop; their knees were pressed against his balls.
They flopped down on and beside him and the three of them slept awhile in delighted satiation.
When Ross awoke, a couple of hours had passed. Yet they had begun so early, immediately after eating, that it was only a little after ten thirty. He rolled his head leftward to see Hank, lying flat on her stomach with her hands tucked under and her bottom looking just humpy and beautiful in relaxation. Smiling, he turned his head the other way. Beejo had turned over on her side, in her sleep, and lay slightly cupped, with her bottom against his leg.
Moving slowly and carefully, he got up without waking them. He pissed, drank half a glass of water, and poured some wine. Standing there smiling down at their utterly relaxed bodies, he sipped.
Beejo stirred, turned, presented him a brief soul-stirring view of flopping tits with fiery red nipples and parted thighs with a cunt the same color. Then she turned over against Hank. Hank groaned, wiggled, and flopped onto her back. Beejo meanwhile had twisted back and settled down. Now both of them slept on their backs, side by side.
Ross stood there and smiled fondly down at them. He studied them, the extravagantly made brown body with its rounded belly and full hips and large fleshy thighs and large floppy tits. They stirred and shook gently with her sleepful breathing. Her legs were slightly parted, displaying her glossy black bush. Beside her stretched a girl of about the same age, but contrasting pleasantly. Her bush was red as her dark, ruddy-flaming hair. Her breasts were long pear-like ovals whose red-painted tips lay well apart on her chest. She was delightfully pink, all over, and nowhere as fully built as her roommate.
Both of them were crazy about sex, and had been built for it by a loving maker, and sex was where it was at, what the world was about Yet ... neither could compare with the tight supple firmness of Kathy's slim, almost milk-colored body. And the tendrilly moss that left her sweet pussy almost naked....
He jerked his head violently. Damn it! Kathy Kathy Kathy! Stop it, Ross! Who the hell could want more than these two women, spread out so delectably for his own pleasure and theirs?
Determinedly, he tossed back the rest of the wine and set the glass down. Then he slipped onto the bed and pressured them gently until they made room, precariously, between them. He knelt there, with his thighs pressing thighs on either side. They felt almost hot with the heightened warmth of sleeping bodies, bodies working silently and assiduously to repair and rejuvenate while their brains slumbered.
He laid a hand on each firm pussy bulge. Both women stirred slightly at the touch that, to their sleep-warmed vulvae, was slightly chill. After waiting a moment, he began to stroke.
When they awoke, blinking and sighing,, he knelt between them with a hand on the cunt of each and his thumbs slipping in and out of the juicy holes. He grinned at their murky, sleep-filled eyes as they came open to a slow awareness that he was thumb-pumping them, together.
"Umm," Hank sighed, "what a lovely way to wake up!"
"Oh, you beautiful man!" Beejo said, rather more exuberantly. . '
"Just be still, darlings," he said quietly. He pumped.
His thumbs slid in and out of increasingly wet gashes that became increasingly wider, changing from crevices to crevasses. They sighed and squirmed, trying to do his bidding and be still, but stirred too much to remain motionless.
"Don't move a muscle, Beejo," he said, and stretched out to slip his not-quite-erect cock into Hank's welcoming cunt. He hardened quickly inside. She moaned and tried to grab at him when he pulled out. Moving swiftly over a big tan thigh, he imbedded himself just as easily and gently up Beejo's cuntal gap Then he left her-reluctantly-and again knelt between them with his buttocks on his heels. Again he slipped his thumbs into their warmly embracing slits. He began sliding them in and out.
As though someone had given a signal, they looked at each other, both of them lying flat on their backs and turning their heads inward. They smiled.
"Isn't he lovely?"
"He's a darling."
"What shall we do with him?"
"Chain him to the bed. Fuck him until his prick shrivels up and drops off."
"What use would he be without a cock?"
Beejo chuckled. "None whatever. We'd have to go and catch ourselves another one." She turned her head to smile up at Ross.
But he had decided, in that moment he'd never felt so like a complete sex object in his life. It was mildly pleasant, but ugly, too. Nothing like as marvelous as he might have thought. In that moment he became a complete sympathizer with Femlib. He'd pay little attention to screamers and the shriekers and the Lesbians who certainly weren't equipped or qualified to tell female women how to think or behave. But he'd just been made to feel more a thing than a person, and he knew he'd always be aware, too, that many of the females he saw or talked with had become egregiously accustomed to that feeling.
A man sees a body, not a person, he mused, and he thinks with his balls. He thinks of conquest, and of relieving the pressure in those balls: using the body he sees. I ought to know-I've been male all my life, and I've had itchy balls ever since I was about thirteen. At least that's about when I started to know what the sensation was.
And these two think with their cunts. They see me as a body! A male body who knows how to do it, with a little imagination.
Jesus!
Abruptly he realized how he could gratify both his own sudden aggressions and their sexuality-at least Hank's!
He let his thumbs slither out of their clasping bodies.
"Turn over."
"Hm?"
"All the way?"
He nodded. "Turn over on your stomachs."
They turned over, wondering, tightening up their rumps automatically. He gazed down at them, swinging his head back and forth from one to the other.
His eyes positively gloated over the two sets of twinned, evenly proportioned hills pouting sexily up at him. Hank's dimpled, round, pale white and fleshy, the deep thin crack splitting her ass into two well defined halves. And Beejo's opulent tail, which his left hand was stroking as his right slid over Hank's. The coppery woman's bouncy-looking butt halves were deeply and rather widely divided ovals of beautiful tawny tan.
Suddenly his right hand snapped up and rushed down to give Hank a resounding crack across the rump.
"I-I-I-yeep! Oh, ohh...." She jerked and the mattress rebounded her, snapping her shapely round ass into the air.
With his other hand he slapped Beejo's left buttock, then in a swift follow-up, her right.
"Oww! Hey! I don't groove behind that like Hank!"
"Sh'up," he snapped, palming her left cheek again in another swift smack. His right hand, meanwhile, landed a series of hard cracking slaps onto the more receptive ass cheeks of the white woman. She made squeaky sighing sounds and her body bounced with each blow.
He kept striking it, slapping Beejo's rather less hard, left-handed. Hank whined and moaned plaintively. His splay-fingered slaps soon brought a rosy blush to her writhing rump. Her hand came back to rub her smarting bottom; he slapped her palm. She jerked it away and he slapped the cupping lower contours of both cheeks hard, catching them both with his hand landing right across the base of the crack. She lunged slightly forward with the impact.
Beejo suddenly rolled onto her side, facing him.
She didn't want any more of that sort of attention to her big fleshy backside, which she put a hand back to caress. For a moment she looked angrily and accusingly at him. Then she glanced at the other girl, whose body was bobbing up and down. Hank began to squeal and plead, as Ross swung partway around and started giving her a flurrying hailstorm of palm-swats, with both hands.
Beejo smiled and nodded. Turning her face up to Ross's, she gave him a wicked little grin. Again she nodded encouragingly.
"Beat the pants off her, loverman!"
"Shes ... uh ... not ... ah ... wearing any," he grunted, landing another sizzling slap between each word
Beejo heard that with a little frown and a curious expression.
It was doubtful that Hank even heard the strange reply. She was all amove, with a spasmodic twitching throughout her voluptuously aroused body. Her bare and well-whipped tail throbbed like the very fires of hell. She threshed and squirmed, desperately clenching her buttocks together and trying to lessen the force of his raining swats.
As for Ross, he soared in the satisfying joy of subjecting her to pain and humiliation by beating her butt until she pleaded for mercy. She'd wanted a hard spanking from a man's hand for a long time; she'd said so. He was delighted to oblige. He couldn't remember having obliged a woman with such delighted fervor.
He didn't cease his steady smacking of her ass until he was panting and his arms were exhausted and his hands smarting and he had spread a red glow throughout the swollen halves of her feverishly inflamed bottom.
Then he grasped her with both hands and flipped her over onto her back. Even though the bed was sheeted with black satin, she gasped at the contact of her well-slapped butt's naked tingling flesh with the sheet. Then she gasped again: her cunt was a writhing, oozing morass of arousal and his violently erect prick pierced it and was lost up inside it with the ease of pushing a knife into hot pudding.
"Un ... unnnnnghh!"
She hoisted her legs completely free of the bed in an attempt to grip his flailing body. He was stroking hard, fast and deep. With every hard thrust he could feel the sluicing lake of her cunt, and yet he felt, too, the firmly vibrant inner muscles that grabbed his pistoning sex pole and tried to clench around it.
The tensing of her firm, strong thighs cramped and held him. Suddenly dropping himself full upon her to smash her tits, he slapped her legs from him with a swift outward swing of both arms. She grunted and lay there groaning and squirming, her eyes bright with a fever of lust while she absolutely grooved on the marvelously masochistic sensation of being violently fucked, as if she were pinned beneath a berserk rapist.
She emitted a little moaning, gurgling sound and raised her body to help him as his fingers went under her and spread her whip-sensitized buttocks apart, farther and farther, to get at the delicate hole between them.
Then she grunted, as his finger slid in.
He rammed his body down onto her, forcing the finger deep up her tender asshole. His deep-sunk digit tightened the walls of the hot hole, crushed them down onto the tender membranes of her cunt. It forced the grip around his cunt-spearing cock to become even harder and more demanding.
She gasped and quivered uncontrollably, pierced in anus and cunt simultaneously by delving, rooting stiffness.
Her swollen nipples kissed his chest and slithered in their own sweat.
He pounded up and down on her. Finger and prick juiced deeply in and out of the close-set holes he impaled. With each movement, his pulsating pokers delved deeply and tightly into tight-pressed tunnels of hot wet lust.
Her surging screams of delight were almost agonized as she started coming. Her body quivered and lurched and her butt, its swollen pain forgotten, switched over the sheet. She was rocked in a sudden frenzied maelstrom of orgasmic tremors and hot conractions.
"You did it again!" Beejo giggled happily. "You made her come!"
"You made me come!" Hank squealed.
He rammed himself in and out as if striving to smash down the inner muscles that pulsed and contracted in her climactic tremors. She grunted and felt the weight of his body smacking hers. She cried out when he jerked his finger out of her hot and sweaty anus.
"You ... made me ... come too, baby!" he gasped, and whipped his cock out of her oozing, slimy slit.
An arching golden-white streak of sperm shot up her body to smack precisely between her breasts. The next hot spurt splashed down just above her navel and instantly began trickling warmly into its cavity. The third orgasmic jet dropped onto her writhing belly below her navel.
The rest of his ejaculation creamed into the already sweat-matted thicket of her red pubic hair.
"Ch, oh ... you came on me ... you wasted ... I wanted it in me!"
"You got it on you, luv!" he said, dragging himself off the bed and onto his feet despite the ennui of after climax. Not bothering with the semen that still seeped in a long drip out of his dangling cock, he went over and started putting on his pants.
He heard the greedy slurping sounds as Beejo started sucking his semen from Hank's sweaty body.
He buttoned his shirt.
He was at the door when first Hank, then Beejo cried out. They'd been too wrapped up in each other to notice his hurried dressing.
"Ross! Where are you going?"
To bed."
"Bed! There's room ... stay in this one, loverman!"
"Come back, baby! We'll sleep, and you can make me come again!"
"Make you...." Beejo broke off. "It's my turn next, friend!"
"Hell," Hank snapped, "you can come in a second. Ross!"
He had the door open and was starting to slip out "Ross! What's the matter?"
He glanced back. "You've got each other," he said I'm tired of being just another male sex object."
And he went down to his own room and, despite being tired, had a beer before he crawled in. He drank it slowly, thinking. The thinking didn't stop once he was in bed, and he wasn't asleep nearly as soon as a man who'd come twice should have been.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It hadn't been all that late, and he awoke at eight Saturday morning, slid slowly and partially back into sleep, and drifted in and out until nine. Then he reached up and flipped on the radio.
He learned that there was snow outside, plenty of it, and that it just might not be through coming and accumulating.
The snow had started last night, coming down from Canada. It must have been snowing in Poughkeepsie since five or six o'clock. And they now had five inches. Also, the roads weren't cleared.
He jerked up into a sitting position and stared at the far wall while some yoyo started off his song in a deep voice by saying-"Ah'm a truck."
Then Ross pounced out of bed. He started the shower, plugged in the coffeepot, poured a glass of Start, showered and shaved, standing there naked. Then he put on the velour robe and poured coffee and started shoving pieces of sandwich meat into his mouth. He stung his tongue on the hot coffee and snarled, sloshing some.
He put on a dark blue shirt and blue flares and blue socks and a pair of black shoes. As an afterthought, he knotted a figured Laredo scarf-mostly blue-around his neck. He combed his hair carefully.
There," he told himself, studying the all-blue guy in the mirror, combed and shaved and not at all bad-looking. "If they did make it, I definitely look presentable enough to meet a mommy and a sister!"
He shoved keys and wallet in his pockets and took off.
Four minutes later he was knocking at the door on the first floor.
He had to knock twice, and he was chewing into his hp when he heard the encouraging sounds of lock and latch being let off.
Without makeup, glowing fresh from the shower, wearing her hair in a towel and a white terry robe pulled around her, Kathy looked absolutely great.
"Ross!"
"Good morning, Kathy. I wanted to come down and check with you. Is our date for this evening off?"
"Our date?"
He rolled his eyes. There wasn't a sign or a sound of anyone's being inside. He smiled and spoke in a low voice. "They didn't make it?"
She shook her head. "Mother called Just a few minutes after you and I hung up last night. Too much snow. I called you back, and...." She looked down. "I called a couple more times, later. No answer."
"No," he said uncommittally.
She looked up with the slightest hint of reproach on her face. "You sure didn't waste any time ... I'm sorry!"
He grinned and nodded. "No, and you were right And don't ask if I was with a woman. I was."
She sighed and he saw her white teeth, setting themselves into her lipstickless lower hp and denting it slightly.
"I was busy kissing her off, Kath. You want to be my girl?"
Her face softened. "Oh, my gosh! I just came out of the shower-you have no right to see me like this! Oh, damn! Why didn't you call? Good grief I must look like something the cat brought home." Then she lunged against him and her arms went up and around his neck. "Hell, yes, I want to be your girl!"
He kissed her, long and with a fervor she returned in spades. Then he began to become aware of a slight discomfort....
"Oh gosh! I forgot ... my robe came open. I'm still all wet and oily from the shower!"
He pushed her back, followed her in, and heeled the door shut behind him. Then he looked down at himself, following her wide-eyed gaze.
Yeah. She'd got him all wet again.
"Oh lord," she breathed in a small chastened voice. "I did it again! Damn! Are we going to go through life with me getting you wet?"
"Beats me. We don't even know if we're going through life together or not."
She looked at him with an expression of complete seriousness.
"Oh, I hope it works out that way! I think I sure would like to...." She looked down at him again. She sighed. "Well. Here we go again. Uh ... you'd, ah, better get out of those wet clothes before you, um, catch a cold."
"Yeah. You too."
Her eyes widened. "Now? You mean ... do it? Before breakfast?"
He was pulling off his shirt. "Why the hell not?"
She jerked off her shorty robe to reveal a glowing, wet-shining body, and he loved every humid inch of it. "Why the hell not!" she echoed.
They kissed again, rubbing their bodies against each other, naked this time. She did everything he did, including fondling his ass when he did hers. Her almost-hard breasts punched at his chest. Her belly pulsed against his growing cock, and she rocked her hips slightly to rub against him in a belly-undulating, crotch-circulating movement.
"Oh, Rossi All day and all night and all day tomorrow and all night and all day Monday, too ... can we?"
"We can. We will."
Her eyes sparkled. "Listen, let me tell you what I did last night!"
"Who gives a damn?"
"I want to. I read three books!"
He was walking with her to her bed, which was rumpled. Their arms were around each other and each toyed with a pistoning ass cheek.
"Three! Good lord!"
"Three sexbooks, Rossi And I learned some things. And boy, did some of it turn me on! Have you ever heard of ... anal intercourse?"
"Yes," he said, and that was absolutely all.
"Well, that sounds a little scary, but it's just absolutely fascinating, too. And next time you put your head between my legs, I won't he there on my back like a female chauvinist! We can get side by side and I can kiss and lick you that way, too!"
He shivered. "No argument from me, Kath."
"You ever read any sexbooks?"
I'm subleasing my apartment until the other guy's lease runs out. He left to get married. He left behind about a hundred."
"About a hundred sexbooks?" She squeezed him.
He nodded.
She clung to him and danced up and down beside him, rubbing her body against his like a delighted kitten. "Oh, Ross! Wow! Can I borrow them? Can we maybe read some together? Are you going to stay here all weekend? Listen, if you do, could you bring some down so we can read while we're not, um, you know, while you're rejuvenating? Okay? And listen, could you sort of start in warming my bottom up, breaking it in, I mean, making it a little wider and getting it ready so we can try, you know, anal intercourse? Would you mind that? Does sticking it up my, ah, back put you off? Ross?"
"Kathy."
"Hmm?"
"Kathy, shut up and get on that bed so you can get yourself fucked into silence."
She squeezed him, then bounced onto the bed and flopped. Thinking better of that, she rearranged herself. She adopted a sensuous posture and look and held out her arms to him, smiling lazily in warm sexual invitation, all quivery with seething sensuality.
His eyes dropped to the gleaming folds of her groin and the trough between the puckered fullness of its lips He grasped that smooth, almost shorn-looking cunt and squeezed. She gasped in instant excitement Then his fingers were gentle as he moved them constantly over the tender flesh of her cunt's soft little lips.
She wriggled her hips and sighed in delighted satisfaction as his hand clamped tightly down again. His finger slipped up inside her and she jerked, only once, at the little twinge of pain in a passage that had been opened for the first time less than two days ago.
Then she half shuttered her eyes, in a self-contained world of erotic sensual feelings.
His hand squeezed and probed and toyed. Then he bent and set his mouth to the pink-lipped crack. Her violent responsive jerk nearly knocked him free, but then she moaned apologetically and reached down to press his head between her hands. He sent shivers of passion racing all through her by blowing into her cunt, then slithering his tongue into the slightly expanded slot.
"Darling?"
He flicked his tongue in and out, then raised his head a couple of inches to look questioningly at her.
"You know I love that. But ... right now ... I'm burning up! Would you please just pile on and screw me dizzy?" .
He didn't mind. "Did you read about the woman squatting or kneeling astraddle her man and screwing him?" he asked, moving onto the bed.
"Yes! I almost forgot! I want to try that ... next time. Right now I'd like to be crushed and half smothered with man ... my man!"
He pushed up between her thighs, grasped her hand and pulled it down, and let her guide his cock into her. The soft rubbery tip, swollen violently like a gleaming red helmet, nudged up against her pubis. She sighed, and pulled. His prickhead entered the sweet crack dividing the softly firm bulge of her pubic mound.
He rammed deep and she moaned in swift pain, then almost immediately in aroused lust.
Rolling her hips, she grasped his hard body.
He skewered, grinding himself into her, dimpling the very firm resilience of her tits with digging fingers and smacking her belly with his. He concentrated on whipping in and out of her juicing, flooding pussy lips and the fiery cunt beyond.
Lunging hard, he drubbed her, knowing with joyous certainty that she reveled in the constant deep impalement of the open, sticky gash that had been closed until he had opened it himself, on this bed, day before yesterday. Now all it wanted was to be spread and forced open around the heavy, feverishly inflamed probe that had first breached its virginal bastion.
She began arching sinuously up to him, smiling, vibrating to the lustful beat of his body drubbing hers in searing physical intimacy. The audaciously overdeveloped clitoris came slipping up between the top of her labia and rubbed itself joyously against him. She strained hard to stab him with her hard conical breasts, smiling and sighing and gasping out encouragements that grew increasingly, delightfully obscene.
He sent her squealing and shuddering over the edge, and followed almost immediately with a madly spurting blast of copious sperm that rushed into her and drooled out around his imbedded prick.
And the weekend was only beginning. Life was only beginning.
