He was in a half daze. And as his mind cleared, reality came to him, bit by bit. Four walls, one window. And it was autumn, he knew that.
Connecticut, yes, he knew that much.
The door squeaked. Someone opening it. A woman ... or a girl, who the hell knew which ... and she said, "Hi, Mr. Jones." A white-white smile, and a pretty face, really. "How do I introduce myself? Well ... let's just say I'm your ... err ... partner ... " Her nostrils seemed to flare a bit, an exciting sight, even in his state.
She shut the door behind her, and in the same motion wet her lips, a naughty little tongue doing the job nicely.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Terri," and it was after she aid this that he noticed the long red-silk kimono that she wore. His penis came to life, for no good reason other than that. She put out her hand, and, not knowing what else to do, Bud Jones took it, folded his fingers around hers.
The silk material of her robe was held closed only by the weakness of a slim and white hand, revealing the milkiest, softest breasts he had ever imagined. His erection grew to a painful throb. He made his way to the couch, considering it a long distance from the bed, for those were the only two pieces of furniture in the therapy room.
She did not move, nor did she speak, for the moment that followed. "Terri?" he asked nervously.
"Oh, yes. We're not allowed to use our last names during sexual treatments." She moved her right foot forward, and Jones saw a lean and naked foot tentatively encased in a bedroom slipper.
"Are we ... ? I mean, are you ... going to be the one ... all the time?"
Her easy smile did not even hint laughter at his predicament. "If you wish." Her voice was soft. How different this room was from home. Here complete silence separated him by light-years from the world outside. At home, street noise or Bud Jr.'s squawl in the nursery might interrupt the most delicate maneuver when he made love to Judy. "But," the young blonde was continuing, "you don't have to decide that until later."
Her hand opened about the strip of matching fabric that served as the robe's belt. Underneath she wore only a shortie nightgown, so thin that its pale blue gauze was only a filter for the shape of her body. Her breasts were round and full, though not especially large. Chocolate areolas, the size of quarters, clung to the sheer material. Below, just above the gown's frilly hem, a triangle of thick hair covered the intersection of her legs. She turned around gracefully, offering her back to him. His hands trembled, but he carefully helped her off with the robe. When she turned to face him her smile was vibrant. She was less than a foot away. The soft mountains of her breasts rustled against his chest.
"Would you like me to undress you, Bud?"
She loosened his tie and wrenched the bottom of his shirt from the pants. He moved back and slipped out of the jacket and the shirt, then drew the undershirt over his head. When the flash of white cotton passed before his eyes, she was no longer facing him. But he felt her hands at his waist, loosening the belt.
She was on her knees. Her breasts heaved as she untied his shoelaces. She pulled off one heavy brogue and then the other, putting them aside on the plush shag rug. She peeled the socks past his heels. The stretch fabric contracted as it curled on the floor. She brought the loose slacks easily down his bony legs. He blushed with embarrassment when he looked down to see that his cock had already sprung from between the flaps of the Jockey shorts. But she caught the shy glance and soothed him with a pleased upward turn of her lips.
He stepped out of the pants. Her hands moved to his waist. She pulled on the elastic band of his shorts. Her fingers reached behind to the rims of his buttocks as she brought them down. His phallus vibrated, disappeared, and then popped out again as the underwear slid down his thighs. Her right hand moved down the outside of his left leg until the small palm cupped the patella. She pushed the flat of the thumb into the knee in signal that he should raise his leg. Standing in the same spot, the shorts crumpled between his parted legs, Bud Jones was naked.
"It's very nice, you know." He braced himself for the shock of her touch. His eyelids shut tightly. Her four long fingers on the side of the plank contained the electricity of as many exposed wires. He could feel the pulse of the blood as it moved up the organ's length to the vermilion tip. "The size, for instance, is perfect." Her forefinger tugged gently at the circumcised foreskin. The perfectly manicured nail drew the flesh away from raw glans. She seemed to be staring intently at the weapon, and he could feel warm breath upon the tiny slit. He knew he was already leaking dog-water; her breath made it feel icy on the head.
She rose up, and again the breasts bounced beneath the nightgown. "They said you preferred light."
"Yes," he began, interrupting himself with a nervous cough. "But we don't really need that." His chin moved back, and he aimed his forefinger at the light fixture. He could not hold back the humor he sensed in the situation, and he chuckled, "It's only nine-thirty in the morning."
"Yes," she said, and he could not decipher her mood. She turned. Her hind-cheeks seemed to flow Jazzily as she walked to the door. She pressed the light switch, and the room seemed immediately less harsh.
She stood by the bed. "Help me now." He marched toward her as though powered by a motor in the pit of his stomach. His hands closed on her hips, and he rubbed the gauze against her skin as he brought it up and over her body. She let the gown fall silently to the floor beside the bed. She had already stepped from the slippers. She closed her eyes, and the edge of her tongue made itself known between the folds of her soft lips. "Hold me, hold me tight." Her own arms pressed in to the sides of her body.
He brought his mouth against Terri's as he pushed his fingertips to the bone work of her back. She parted his lips with her tongue. The wet flank coated the thick furrows with spittle before she pushed between his teeth. The twin snakes twined as textures collided. Her tongue probed violently, wonderingly inside his mouth. The insides of his cheeks were brushed with the tip.
She bit gingerly at his lower lip with her teeth, then drew back and twisted her mouth over his. He was sore from the pressure of her teeth as she kissed him, but he let her lead. Her index finger stroked his left earlobe before it moved to trace the spiral of the outer ear. Her third finger scratched its nail against the sharp occipital bone at the skull's base, and he arched his spine in pleasure. The fatigue in the small of his back exploded and vanished.
Jones felt her go limp in his arms. She was easing down to the bed. He followed her, not letting go. Her buttocks touched the mattress, and she gripped his forearms. He was eased down in the hint of a grip, and his chest brushed over the sighing mountains of pale breasts. The sharp stones moved against the thin chest hairs. She bent her legs and rested her ankles on his heels. Bud's prick struck the labia, and underneath him Terri wriggled in satisfaction.
He grabbed the muscle at its root and jammed the head against the softness of the hole. Her thighs tightened around his legs. "Not yet, not yet, baby," she whispered, kissing him on his smooth-shaven cheek. She looked into his eyes; their noses almost touched.
"Like this ... " she began, and, pressing her ass into the bed, she moved from under him. She rearranged her body so that she stretched out on the bed's length. She cupped her breasts in her hands. Her thumbs twisted over the red crowns of the nipples. Her legs eased apart, and her wrists pushed in to the sides of her chest. The fingers moved gracefully down to the middle of the cream-white stomach. As if afraid of her own heat, she approached the cunt-lips delicately. Her nails creased the skin just before they were lost inside the net of pubic hair. The sides of her forefingers reappeared through the weave as they pulled apart the outer folds of the hole. Now the insides of the fingers rubbed the strands of pink meat. Her round thumb rolled over the eruption of the clitoris, then brushed aside. "Right ... there ... " she sighed, and relaxed, rustling her shoulders against the clean white sheets.
Her fingers retreated to the slight hollows of the inner thighs. They pushed in firmly and discolored the flesh with blushing. Bud's hand trembled as he pushed his palm along her leg, starting at the knee. He stopped at the hipbone and turned his wrist inward. He stroked the first two joints of his index finger over the gelatin of her clitoris. His thumb hooked and he shoved it inside the twat. "Oh, yes ... yes ... " she said as he buried the heavy finger inside the cavity. "Oh, yeah, fuck me, finger-fuck me ... ! Yeah ... " She turned her head from side to side slowly, as if the skull were snapping on its base to some hidden rhythm. Her nostrils flared and simultaneously her breasts rose, only to fall again as he pushed the clitoris back against her woman's weeds.
The thumb shoved in again and again. His thrust was hard. He turned the stump around inside the snatch. She tightened her legs and the muscles of the quim contracted. He enjoyed the spasm, not moving until the hole dilated again.
His prodding of the clit ceased as he became more interested in manipulating the inner tract. She took his other hand and pulled at his forefinger, leading it to the filament at the crack. He stretched the snap lazily. "The clit, you've gotta give it to the clit," she murmured, and thrust her hips forward in one nervous stroke. She eased back and lay still on the mattress, while Jones pushed in on the bud of tissue. "Oh, that's it," she giggled, "that's it, baby."
She ran her palms against the sides of her stomach, and thus made round her small belly. Jones leaned over as he withdrew his wet thumb from her vagina and rubbed it over the stiffening pimple. Terri raised her hands and pressed her palms against the contours of his neck. She could feel the blood pulsing through his veins. She scratched the smooth skin below his earlobes. "Do you ever suck your wife, Bud?"
Jones blushed. Terri could not suppress the beginning of a smile. "Oh, please, honey. Suck me, huh? Suck Terri. Oh, Terri likes to get sucked so much."
He exhaled warm breath against her face. He did not move. "How ... ?" he began; his voice almost squeaked at the question.
Terri smiled and stuck her tongue between her lips so that only the edge was evident. She flagged it gently, then spoke. "Like that, on the clitoris. That's all there is to it. It feels so good, baby."
Jones touched palms to the mattress at her sides. His knees felt the ripples of linen. She drew her legs up and left a large space for his head. His ears were inches away from the insides of her legs as he dove for the pearl. He hesitated for a moment and sniffed at the leaking cunt juice. He could not remember if Judy smelled like this, if other women smelled like this: this salt-sour odor, this sharp, piercing sweat ...
The very end of his tongue touched the clitoral erection. He pushed the tongue down on it and depressed the sliver of flesh. The grease that covered the particle was like oily, salty sweat. He licked it clean, but the taste remained with each hesitant stroke of his tongue. The long thin tongue moved inside the tapestry of pubic hair, thin silky strands catching as he wagged the organ over the clit. The backs of her hands pressed his cheeks. He felt her push him lower, to the hole itself. "Inside," she moaned, and her upper body twisted on her waist.
The tongue slid across the terrain of hair until the spread lips of-'her twat presented the tunnel. He pressed his lips upon the fleshy gates, and the edges of his upper front teeth hesitated above the abyss. The tongue shot forth and sought out one and then the other wall.
The thud of her crotch as she thrust it deep into his face shocked him. After a moment's hesitation he pushed the. tongue forward inside the cleft, in time to receive another pelvic message. The new mattress creaked below as she quickly established a rhythm that began with the feeling in her hole, and spread with each new coupling of tongue and cunt up and down her body: Now her legs tensed with the energy withheld for the final release of orgasm.
"Oh, put it in, stick it in." Her fingernails drilled patterns on the skin of his forearms, which lay unmoving at the sides of her hips. Excited, Bud's hands reached to her breasts, which swayed under the pressure of his eager' kneading. The tissue changed shape as a kaleidoscope changes dolor. The areolas re-erected into ruby-red baubles.
Jones rose on his knees and kneeled between her sprawled limbs. His cock stretched out before him. Its new size and stiffness amazed him. It seemed thicker and longer than he remembered it. He put his palms on the bed and -hunched his body forward. Her hands reached for the member, but only the right hand wrapped its fingers around the pole. She held it just above the sac. Inside the scrotum his testes bobbed. Her other hand sifted the tissue of the bag, and the almonds moved like pinball's ...
She bent the rod toward her stomach and shifted her weight on the bedding. "Yes," she smiled. "Yes! yes! yes!" And her eyelids clamped together over blue irises.
Jones, too, closed his eyes as shoved the plank against the labial skin, waiting for it to be enveloped by the interior of the slot.
Suddenly he felt wet heat. The cunt-tissue seemed to push in on the tender glans. The friction made him ache, and a quiver of pain passed and made him inhale deeply. He plunged in deep again, and now he was rocking with the tide of the hot, thick fluid that raced up the spine of his instrument.
He twisted the end of the penis so that she smashed into both walls in alternate strokes, separating the fleshy folds that puckered outside the aperture. Terri jammed her thumbs into his armpits and smoothed the sweat against his long, thin hairs. Four fingers pushed down on the rounded surface of the phallus as he partially withdrew from her, while her thumb struck the flattened underside.
Then the prick was buried again. She wrestled under him, and she scratched at his shoulders as she twisted her body, moved her stomach forward faster that he could slip the hard stick inside her warm bath, and he struggled to keep up with her. Each breath rasped through her throat like a gust of wind in a sandstorm.
He was contained in an endless cylinder of blackness as he felt the cock ready to explode. He turned his head to her left breast, now suddenly inflated and huge to his orgasmic, distorted sense of space. He bit in hard on the flesh around the tit. Tongues of flame coursed through the length of the erect genital toward the tiny gash. Powerfully he brought his body down on her in thrust after thrust, wave after wave. She let her cunt dilate to receive the thick malt of his emission. She writhed torturously beneath him, and he knew, with satisfaction, that her plea for orgasm was being answered simultaneously. She grunted animal sounds for each of the final, slowing strokes, until at last he was drained. His body grew smaller and heavier over her thin form, and his spear deflated to a blunt pocketknife inside her.
She let him rest for what seemed a few minutes. "Yes, that was wonderful," she sighed complacently, opening her palms and rubbing them over the sides of his hips. A shiver ended in the small of her back. Semen leaked from the hole, which clung loose around his thawed prick. A strand of the goo dripped to the inner rims of her hind-cheeks.
"Maybe, if you want to, we can ... you know " She giggled and let the sentence end. She turned and half ran, into the small adjoining bathroom without waiting for an answer. Over the sound of the tap water he heard her voice. "After all we have till eleven."
His pleasure faded when he thought of Judy, his wife, somewhere in the same building, with her own surrogate sex-partner.
CHAPTER TWO
"What's that?" Dr. Wit Chiver turned his eyes from the closed-circuit television and looked at Libby Talma, his colleague, an attractive sociologist nearing middle-age.
"I don't know. I can't hear above the running water. Something about eleven o'clock."
"That's when the therapy session ends." He looked at. the control board on the desk. The picture on the monitor disappeared and was replaced by dark and obscure contours. "That's the frozen frame just before orgasm."
"How long before?"
"Thirty seconds. I wish we could get a fitting of the camera nearer to the entrance to the vagina."
"Well, we get some of the same readings from the close-ups of the clitoris."
"Too general. If we could just get a measure of clitoral erection ... "
"Can I see the tape of the vaginal contractions again?"
The design on the screen began to move. The lines of muscle separated toward the sides of the television's face. When the dilation passed, Libby pressed her thumb down on the stop watch in her hand. "Four seconds," she said softly. The tape whirred as Chiver pulled the switch. "Get me the timing on the next one." Again the muscle opened. "Three seconds."
"That's true to Miss Carson's test patterns, isn't it?" he asked. He proffered a fresh pack of cigarettes to Libby and she shook her head in agreement. He tugged at the crisp cellophane, retrieved a cigarette, and lit it.
"By the way, have you got her replacement?"
He exhaled in a ring that floated above the TV. "A woman was referred by Dr. Lawrence in gynecology at the Municipal Hospital.
"How does she sound?"
"Young-he says she's quite attractive, and not prudish. She came to him complaining that she thought she was a nymphomaniac. He persuaded her it was nonsense, and suggested she see us. She's new in town, which is fine. I want the surrogate therapists to have as few ties with the townspeople as possible. It's easier on the women, and it's a protection against scandal."
"When do you see her?"
Chiver started, then looked down at his wristwatch. "In about five minutes. We have a ten-thirty appointment. You're welcome to interview her with me."
"These women are really more at ease with men than with other women. Several that I've interviewed have later told me the same thing-that I seemed scornful. That's nonsense, of course, but still ... "
She rose and walked casually to the door. "Lunch?"
Chiver nodded. He turned his attention to the small animated box on his desk. The orgasmic contractions were like lightning spasms. He depressed an illuminated yellow button and the picture changed again. He turned the sound switch on, and the conversation in the room was heard through a small speaker attached to the side of the television.
Terri Carson rose off Bud Jones' penis. She moved the phallus head against the labial flaps. It was larger than normal, but not fully stiff. "Oh, come on, fuck me, make it hard ... " She squeezed the damp tool in her fist.
Susie Giver phoned Stu Boston, the editor of Woman magazine, from a booth at a gas station one mile down the highway from the Institute for Socio-Sexual Research. "I'm going for the interview as soon as I get off the phone, Stu," she said with annoyance. "I don't want to be late."
"Well," he answered slowly. She imagined him at his desk in New York, his fingers combing through masses of paper clutter. She looked at her watch and only heard the last of the sentence. " ... and I want you to keep detailed notes on every step. Including the interview. Hear me?"
"I hear you." Exasperated, she placed the receiver on the silver hook and left the booth. She ran to her car, a Mercury Cougar, and shivered at the warmth from the heater that assaulted her when she settled behind the wheel. She released the emergency brake, pushed on the accelerator, and the car lurched out of the station's driveway.
"Dr. Chiver will see you right away." Susie thought she detected disapproval for her slight tardiness in the nurse's last phrase. She followed the slim attendant inside the wood-paneled office. A gray-haired man in his late fifties, dressed in a dark business suit, arose behind the huge mahogany desk and extended his hand. He gestured that she sit down.
"The first question, of course, is whether you want the job. Dr. Lawrence said you weren't sure-"
In her enthusiasm, Susie cut him off. "I've thought about it a lot, and I have decided I would like the job."
"That is fine," Chiver smiled, and Susie wondered if he wore dentures. He was, she thought, quite handsome. "Then I guess we had better begin. Did Dr. Lawrence tell you that there would be certain ... tests?" He paused and tried to read her mind and her reactions from her eyes. Giving up, he continued. "I'm afraid that if you find them embarrassing, you may find much of the therapist's workload embarrassing."
Her gleaming smile reassured him. "What shall I do first?"
"There is first an oral interview. Quite general." He opened the drawer of his desk and removed a sheath of mimeographed pages. He took a new pencil from an open. canister and tapped it on the leather edge of the ink blotter. "May I?"
Susie nodded.
"Have you ever masturbated?"
"Yes?"
"When was the first time?"
"I was thirteen."
"To climax?"
"Almost always."
"With foreign objects injected into the vagina?"
"Occasionally. "
"When was your first sexual experience, apart from autoerotic play?"
"At fourteen."
"Intercourse?"
"Yes. I-"
"Was there extensive precoitaI play, say with a boyfriend, before you were fourteen?"
"Several. But not many. Not until I actually started fuck-" The slip was intentional, but the blush was automatic.
"That's certainly all right, Miss Giver. We don't hold to any Victorian taboos around here. It would be hypocritical."
She nodded thoughtfully. "As I was saying ... "
"Dr. Lawrence said that you evidenced a fear of nymphomania. Did it begin then, at fourteen?"
"Not the fear so much. That came later, in the past year, when one of the men I was sleeping with called me a whore. That upset me."
"Of course." Chiver's tone was fatherly. He looked down at the questionnaire. "Any experience with other women?"
She hesitated purposefully, but then she answered. "A few times."
"Were there orgasms?"
She blinked and nodded her head vigorously. "There certainly were."
"Would you have any objections-under scientific circumstances, of course-to performing acts of a homosexual nature in the Institute?"
"I ... I guess not."
"Good, good." He looked up and twirled the pencil between his index finger and thumb. "One more thing. Have you ever engaged in sexual activities with more than one partner at a time?"
"Well, when I was working in New York, I used to belong to a swingers' club. I guess you know what those are."
"Certainly." He inhaled deeply and betrayed his interest as he cupped his. chin in hand.
"There were different combinations. Sometimes two girls and a guy, sometimes two men and two women, sometimes a whole bunch of people."
"So that would be acceptable, then, as well?"
"I don't see why not."
"The alarm will ring in ten minutes." The door closed, and Wit Chiver's face was lost behind it. Susie Giver found herself alone in a small white room. Rectangular, it was bare except for a single bed. Even the blanket above the clean and pressed sheets was white.
She was totally nude except for the elastic band Chiver's nurse had wrapped around her thigh. A small wire reached out and squirmed inside her vagina. It scratched her as she moved to the bed. She relaxed easily, and her legs raised off the floor. She stared at the small hump in the elastic where, Chiver had said, the transistors were placed. One thin wire was dangling loose. Yards long, it ended finally under the door that had just closed.
She had no time to lose, though she expected ten minutes would be long enough to produce an orgasm. She stroked her stomach softly with her fingers. She pressed her legs together, and the walls of her cunt meshed. She was warm inside, but not yet moist. She rested her pinky on the fillip of pink flesh that was dormant. She pressed it down. She rolled it over the tangle of black-brown pubic hair. She circled the tab with the smooth nail of her forefinger. Her left hand rolled the skin over her hipbone. She arched her spine and her breasts rolled up. Her wrist jammed against her hipbone, and she bent her arm at the elbow. The left breast moved toward her face. She tried to turn the tip toward her, and stuck her tongue out toward her chin. She just barely grazed the surface of the intricate texture with her tongue. Saliva made the chocolate-brown shine in the crisp morning daylight of the antiseptic room.
Her forefinger slid into the valley between the two breasts. She followed the straight line. Now, one breast in each hand, she rolled the willowy mountains of flesh. The soft forms changed like the shadows of running figures. The tit hardened to pudding texture, then to hot coal. She licked the other areola, and tiny beads erected inside the ebony rim.
She rubbed her ass against the bed's mattress. Her feet moved off the side of the bed, and her toes curled around the lines of the cold metal frame. Her right hand moved to the space between her sprawled limbs. The index touched the loose-muscled globes of her ass, almost hidden behind the archway. But now the long finger moved past the crack to the clitoris. She twisted the puckered labia, then dug deep inside the tightened chasm of the vagina to wet her finger. She coated the rising clit with the new fluid. Her pelvis pushed forward and her forefinger drowned inside the cunt while she bent the index back. Its knuckle scraped the yielding tissue of the tiny berry.
Her body ground out a quick rhythm, though she moved only below the waist. She sniffed and smelled her cunt odor in the windowless room. She blinked at the overhead fluorescent light, and it was then that her eyes fixed on the small. circle in the west comer of the room. A half-inch inside of the black plastic rim was a glass lens. She held her breath with the sudden knowledge that she was being photographed. "It's like a stag movie," she thought in horror. But she proceeded because of the fear that she might not climax within the allotted time; thus she might lose the job that would win her, Susie Giver-a lowly editorial researcher a staff writing job on Woman.
Her thumb crossed over the inflated clitoral ridge, and with each wet stroke she cared less that she was being observed, and more about the satisfying orgasm she knew would surely come.
"Ah ... " Her voice whistled as she murmured to herself, oblivious now of the camera. She rubbed the clitoris fiercely. She pushed the long, bony fingers inside the oozing chute. She turned the digits of her hand and stretched the sides of the opening. She was wet. The path of the fingers was made slick and easy by the oil that dripped now from the lining of the vagina and greased luxuriously the slivers of raw pink labia.
"Uh ... uh!" she grunted, and her legs spread so far apart that she thought she had sprained them. The heels pushed into the mattress, and her ass left the bed. Her right arm rubbed lightning-fast at the clit while her left straightened and flailed in the air. She felt her ass bounce up and down as she came, but the inside of her was lost in a vacuum in space. She bit at her lower lip and drew a thin line of blood. She tasted salt as the walls of the twat opened and then shut tightly around the machine of her joined fingers.
Chiver snapped the rubber clamps down over her wrists and fastened them to the panel. He attached a rectangular slab of plate glass to the one-way mirror. The glass, just below her nostrils, recorded the force and frequency of her breathing. Another tiny camera, placed on a small tripod to her left, focused on the curve of her pupils to measure dilation.
"When do they begin, Doctor?" Susie felt uncomfortable. She expected at any moment that either the slim blonde behind the glass or the overweight gentleman in his early thirties would look her straight in the eye and blanch with horror. But they did not.
"There is naturally a process of acquaintance before they ... begin therapy."
"Does the girl know she's being watched?"
Chiver's eyebrows flexed. "In coming to work for the Institute, she went through" the same series of tests that you're going through now. So that she knows it is possible. But," and here he paused, emphasizing his words deliberately, "we at the Institute value privacy less than the acquisition of knowledge about sex and the successful treatment of sexual problems through one-to-one consultation." Susie nodded agreeably.
She noticed some action through the glass. Both the girl, whom the patient had called Terri, and the fat man were naked. His penis was noodle-limp between his legs. Fat bulged out to almost cover it.
The man's round face seemed to grow larger as the girl took the bent pole in her hand. It was hidden now from Susie's view. She glanced down and saw smoke form on the glass beneath her nostrils. She was breathing heavier, faster, she noted with surprise. She wondered if her pulse also showed her excitement.
Terri Carson drew her hand away and Susie saw that the small prick was stiff. The therapist pulled on the foreskin, and the heavy man's shoulders rose as his mouth opened to take in air. The fat on his thighs jiggled as her fingers brushed his skin. She pushed her fingers inside the wrinkled scrotal bag. The man's hand clutched at the edge of the mattress and his body moved back.
"Oh yes, that's right, Harry. That's just right," Terri murmured, and she put her hands on his shoulders. Now Susie saw only her back and, under her arm, the sides of her large swinging breasts. Gently, the girl pushed Harry down to the bed. He drew his legs up toward him from the floor, and she probed between his legs for the small but erect treasure.
Her other hand massaged his almost feminine breasts. A soft humming came from his throat. Terri's elbow bobbed as she drew the foreskin expertly up and down the sides of the slender prong. Involuntarily, Susie felt her right hand pull away from its moorings on the electronic board toward her chest, but she was strapped firmly. Instead, she rolled her wrist against the metal panel. She shifted in her seat.
"That's it, Harry, oh, yeah ... I told you you'd get hard." The mass of flab stirred on the bed. "Do you want to fuck me? I want you to fuck me, if you want to." She clutched his upper arm, and he rose toward her on his own power. The fat rode down his chest.
Terri tossed her head lazily back toward one shoulder while she began again to thrust her stomach forward into his. Harry's tool surged into the first few inches of her vaginal tunnel. She wiggled the cunt-walls against the fully penetrated dork. Her hands clamped the broad buttocks, which shivered like Jell-O inside the grip. He moved straight inside her with each forward stroke. Her hips pushed her crotch up into the mass of his stomach. The fat man breathed heavily. He wheezed as if near the end of along foot race.
"Oh ... that's real, good, Harry ... real good. Oh, yeah, I love your prick. Do it to me, do it to me good." Spasms of pleasure racked the man's fleshy body as he delivered his load of cream near the beginning of the long vaginal hole. Susie wondered if the therapist was only imitating the orgasm that appeared to rock her lithe, lovely body.
The coupling behind the plate glass froze into a tableau, and Susie, still breathing hard, turned to Dr. Chiver. He in turn looked down at a meter from which he read the rate of pulse contraction. He smiled. "Once the films are developed, I'm sure you'll have passed the test. No one who has shown a similar increase in pulse rate has ever failed."
Susie was relieved. "What's next?"
"There is a second part to the arousal index. It is not as important, but it does indicate whether you are a fully sensuous woman, because it shows whether you can be excited by the mere representation of sexual contact."
Chiver walked slowly and deliberately to a file cabinet m the corner of the testing room. He withdrew a manila folder crammed with several thick magazines. "These are so-called pornographic pictures, Miss Giver. While you look at these, the various tests will produce further readings as to pulse and so on. In the meantime, my assistant and I will set up the screen." A young Filipino moved to the closet, and Dr. Chiver helped him with a movie screen. "Begin whenever you like, Miss Giver. Just press that red button."
Susie opened the top magazine to the first page. Absent-mindedly, her hand pushed in the red button. The first few pages were fairly tame. Nude young people cavorted around a swimming pool. But, as she turned page after page, the bodies touched-at first casually, but soon with erotic intent.
The next magazine and the magazine after that varied from the single theme of intercourse. The second showed attractive teen-agers in surprising lesbian poses. The next magazine described in unretouched detail the progression of an orgy at what was supposed to be a huge "singles' apartment house. "
The films that Chiver projected were a grainy black-and-white, but Susie found them more arousing because of the soundtracks. She sweated profusely as a Mexican prostitute exposed her breast to a potential customer in a dingy alley. She waited tensely as the whore led the man to a door marked HOTEL. The prostitute marched in first, followed by the john. The scene shifted to the interior of the woman's small room.
She started to strip immediately. She was not pretty, but her body was thin and well-developed. She was young, certainly under thirty. She reached behind her and pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress. She hunched her shoulders and drew the fabric down her chest. She stepped out of it and was naked except for her bra, girdle, and stockings. She struggled out of the girdle after first unsnapping the sheer nylons. She turned her almost-nude back to her male patron, who undid the hooks. She turned around. Her breasts were full, though not completely firm. She walked to a bureau drawer and took something from it. The next close-up showed it to be a prophylactic.
She gestured for the man to sit down on the edge of the rumpled bed. The camera zoomed in on his considerable erection. Deftly her fingers unrolled the rubber balloon down the length of the member. The man breathed hard and closed his eyes. Her fingers pressed it through his pubic hair to the skin surrounding the cock's base.
A long shot showed the man pushing his body along the bed until his head rested on a pillow. "Blow me," Susie heard him say. The film's sound was muffled. She could hear, in the background, noises from the small camera crew. She felt hot. Sweat streamed onto the surface of her underarms.
"Five American dollars extra for suck." The girl's accent was thick. Close-up of man, who nodded. The camera focused on the girl's lips, as they hesitated above the mast. The white edges of her teeth pushed out from behind her lips before the vacuum of the whole mouth covered the phallus head. She bit hard on the foreskin below the glans, and the man groaned in complaint.
He shoved his penis deeper inside her mouth. She rose up off the stem and circled the staff in a spiral. Just the tip of her tongue touched the cock. She pulled at the scrotum and stretched it. She drew her mouth off the instrument. "Tell me when you're ready," she muttered thickly. The transparent rubber shined with her saliva. She opened her mouth again and sucked in. Her head bobbed. She seemed to be wrenching the fluid out of him. "Now," he gasped, and immediately she raised her face.
Her hands touched his shoulders. She kneeled and then spread her legs slightly, though her knees were still between his own. She bent the man's prick to her twatlips. Slowly the interior of her vagina swallowed and covered the thick, solid branch.
"Push," she told him throatily. Susie lowered her eyes and saw her own breasts heave inside the cage of her brassiere. She brought her thighs together underneath her dress, hoping to grant her clitoris some friction. Her buttocks jammed into the upholstered seat.
Perhaps a hand-held camera was placed on the male's chest, because now the screen was filled with the greased joinings of rubber-covered muscle and steaming, wet hole. Grunting was heard on both sides. The camera drew back. The Mexican girl's breasts wobbled. Her eyes were shut. Layers of skin at the sides of her hips rolled as she shoved her pubic region down on the spear.
The screaming bed almost covered the sounds of their voices as the john shot his rocks off into her cunt. A long shot from the head of the metal bed showed the girl's body as it lazily consumed the last squirts from the phallic tree.
"Well," said Dr. Chiver, cupping his hand on her left shoulder. "You are beyond doubt a sufficiently sensuous woman to serve as a surrogate partner and sexual therapist. When can you start?"
Susie feigned uncertainty. "Any time, I guess."
Chiver smiled.
"The therapist you saw in action, so to speak, this morning-Miss Carson-is leaving the clinic this week. Will Monday be all right? We have a particularly interesting new patient for you to work with. "
CHAPTER THREE
Susie walked quickly through the Institute's main lobby and stepped inside the elevator. At five minutes to nine, she was in Dr. Chiver's waiting room. A paper cupful of coffee in his hand, the gynecologist was talking to his young secretary when the journalist entered. He spun nimbly on his heels, extending his right hand in greeting.
"Will you step inside my office?"
Susie followed him. He sank into a large leather chair behind his desk before motioning that she sit in the visitor's chair.
"I want to talk to you about your first patient. He is nineteen and quite sexually experienced-in homosexual sex. His parents sent him to us for help. While somewhat reluctant-understandably so-he has been cooperative. Nothing, however, has done much good so far. Your task will be, in any, way possible, to try and get him to enjoy heterosexual relations."
Susie nodded slowly. Chiver stood and then maneuvered her to a therapy room on the same floor, leaving her at the door. "Just knock," he added in explanation when she flashed him a puzzled grin. She paused a moment and watched as he walked back to his office; then she struck the wooden door with folded knuckles.
It opened. There stood a tall youth in sport clothing. His hair was a rich black, though his eyes were, surprisingly, a translucent blue. He was thin, and his slimness made the facial features seem particularly angular. Yet he was not at all effeminate like the homosexual stereotype.
"Bob?"
"Yes." He moved away from her, backing, leaving her to shut the door. She spoke again, and anxiety made her smile difficult to maintain. "My name is Susie."
The boy sat down on a leatherette couch at the other side of the cubicle. Except for the double bed it was the only piece of furniture in the room. "Shall we go on with it?" asked Bob, his voice not without a kind of dry humor.
"If you'd like to." Susie pulled her sweater off over her head. Her breasts swelled beneath the jersey fabric of her dress. She kicked her shoes off and ran her stockinged heels against the plush pile of the carpeting. "Will you help me with my zipper?" He rose with a sigh and stood behind her. The zipper slid open. "And ... the bra?" she asked tentatively. He pulled at the snaps, which gave way. She turned to face him. Flesh-colored bikini panties did not conceal the pubic hair at her hole. She planted her legs apart and rolled down the sheer nylons.
"Won't you get ready?" she asked with disappointment in her voice. She liked the idea of making love to a boy this young and attractive; she suspected all of her tasks would not be this congenial.
"All right," he answered with the same heavy sigh. She watched while Bob undressed himself. He was slow. He folded each item of clothing neatly and placed it on the seat of the small sofa.
Susie opened her hands and hooked her thumbs over her hipbones. The thumbs curled under the circling band and pulled at the elastic. She bent her legs at her knees and slipped the undergarment down her legs. She stepped out of the panties and left them where they fell.
"I've tried everything," Bob said slowly, his voice low. "They've shown me pictures of guys with hard-ons, really hung, and every time I look at the pictures, they'd jolt me with an electric shock. Got so that I would just shut my eyes as soon as I realize it would be a man instead of a naked girl on the screen. Psychoanalysis. Encounter groups. And you're the second girl this month."
She watched him remove the last stitch of clothing. She reclined on the bed, exposing the hair between her sprawled limbs. "Well, why don't you just tell me whatever you want to do, and we'll do it. I know you'd rather do it with a guy, but can't you just pretend I'm a guy?" Bob laughed, but she went on. "I know what you're thinking. But ... like, I could blow you, couldn't I?"
"I guess so." He looked at her appraisingly. His prick hung limp as he stood by the bed. Her mouth was just inches away from the thick penis. Resting on her elbow, Susie reached up and pulled it from the network of hair at its root. It did not enlarge. She pressed her thumb against the bulbous head. "Come lie down and I'll do it to you."
Bob slouched and lay on the mattress. He kicked his legs out toward the foot of the bed. Her body curled into a question mark as she held the weak muscle in her clenched fist. The head hung out from the side of the hand. Her fingers groped for the foreskin then drew it down to expose the glans. She opened' her mouth wide and stuffed him inside of her. She coated the foreskin with the saliva that was pouring from her tongue. The member tasted salty and sweaty. But, inside her mouth, it budged not at all. She shoved her thumb between the jiggling testicles. She explored past the end of the bag to the bridge of skin that connected cock and asshole. She plucked on the tissue, and Bob groaned in response.
She moved her mouth off his dick, then rubbed her face against it. The flesh bent and changed shape as her lips streaked by, and a segment of the head blocked one of her nostrils as she pushed her chin over the scrotum. Meanwhile her fingers scratched on the inner thighs-longingly and teasingly. Becoming aroused, the young man drew his leg up on the bed. The hose gained in size and Immediately felt more solid.
It was then she remembered something Chiver had told her while she was undergoing training. She excused herself and went into the adjoining bathroom, hoping the pause would not undo the progress she had made. She opened a small towel cabinet and procured one of several bottles. She brought the bottle into the room and held it out to the youth. "What if I ... spread some of this on you?"
Bob laughed. "Hey, that would be a trip. Alcohol, isn't it?"
Susie nodded. "Brandy."
"I like brandy." He paused. "All right, you rub it on my prick. Then I'll pour a little of it on your cunt and I'll suck you off. Fair, right?"
She smiled. It was good that he had volunteered to perform cunnilingus on her, or at least a sign of something good.
He pulled the bottle's cork and handed it back to her. She poured a small puddle of alcohol into her right palm. Slowly and lovingly she spread the liquid on the organ.
Carefully she put the bottle on the floor by the bed. She directed her attention to arousing the boy fully. His penis was almost fully erect. Her tongue touched the flattened side of the cock just as it rose out of the bulging juice-sac. The booze was sweet on the tip of her tongue, though it burned her lips as her tongue drew inside her mouth. "Hmmm," she whispered down on the joint, as if it could hear. The cock was growing harder. The skin was hot as if the brandy had lit a fire on it. Now the meat expanded, she opened her mouth and took the first few inches inside. As she licked industriously, the dick responded with twitches of movement.
Soon the tip had nudged the entrance to her throat. She soothed the underside with the wagging of her tongue across its width. Susie's hand traveled from the boy's crotch to his chest. She prodded one nipple with pressure from her forefinger until it was stiff. She took the hard penis and rubbed the surface of the head against her smooth chin and jaw. Her nostrils flexed with the inhaled brandy fumes.
Her front teeth bit into the organ a few inches below the glans. She seized hold of it with her hand near the root and sucked in hard. The spittle made slurping sounds as she sucked. "Oh ... I love to suck you. It's so hard. And thick. I love cock when it's this thick." Her teeth rustled on the soft skin. Her tongue curled back up the stick and licked the purple line. A trace of semen had dripped from the slit, and its sweetness competed with the taste of the alcohol.
He shoved his hips off the bed. This drove the prick deeper into her mouth. It rubbed the lower molars and premolars as it jammed her wet inner cheeks. Susie squeezed him and felt the blood shooting inside. She pulled the foreskin. The edges of her upper front teeth scraped the slit. She covered her teeth with her lips and pulled in hard.
His pulsing, throbbing motions inside her mouth were by now routine, but they grew faster as she sucked with thirstier force. Her tongue, her cheeks, her lips, were numb with the taste of brandy.
"Okay ... now," he said. He grabbed hold of his instrument at its root. His knuckles brushed her chin as he drew the penis back to his stomach. Susie pushed her body up on her palm. Her breasts bounced from her chest, the areolas sharp and hard.
Bob looked down at the floor by the bed. He shoved Susie down on her back. She waited for the hot assault of liquid on her twat. Bob placed the bottle between her spread legs, just under the mop of hair. He pushed the glass up against the cuntlips, and the labia were chilled. He bent the neck of the bottle toward her rising belly. She inhaled deeply. The wet mouth of the container burned her just below the navel. A droplet of the fluid slid inside her belly button.
A thin stream of melted fire trickled down between her legs to wet the bedding and it made Susie hot. The sensation was painful at first. But she quickly grew accustomed to the warm glow that penetrated up and through the vagina. Bob worked his forefinger over the clit and smoothed the brandy evenly into the modest sliver of tissue. He spread the alcohol into the skin below the tangled pubic hairs, glistening with moisture.
Then he stuck the glass edge of the bottle between the folds. Susie stiffened her legs and bit into her lower lip as the tip pushed inside her. A few drops of the liquor ran against the soft tissue of the cunt-walls. Bob's hand evened some of the flow out against the pale pink skin of Susie's thigh. With a wet finger he pressed the underside of the knee joint. He bent his index finger and shoved it inside the cleft.
She thrust her pelvis forward against his probing fingers just as he lowered his mouth to the honey-covered twat. His tongue followed the path of the incision and then ducked inside the hole itself. It licked thirstily at the brandy until he could taste the natural lubrication that mingled with it.
Bob's fingers. stretched apart the sides of the opening. He looked in at the shaded cunt His tongue was caught inside as the lips closed back in on the box. His fingers drew the hind-cheeks apart, and the index of his right hand made passes, soft yet probing, at the ging. He tongued the thick growth of hair that obscured her organ. The tip kissed the clitoris. With his teeth covered by his lips, he took the button inside his mouth. His twisting lips captured the flesh and rolled it between them over and over again.
Losing all control, her body wrenched out a driving, climactic rhythm. She rolled her stomach up against Bob's now-slippery mouth and jaw. He opened his lips and let his tongue lash the wet and brandy-scented beaver.
He turned his head from side to side and rubbed his lips hard down on the clit. She grunted, and the walls of her cunt dilated and then snapped shut. He forced a finger up in her a fraction of a second after the walls jammed together. Coming, Susie farted as the last convulsions came.
Bob turned his head away when her body stopped moving. He got up off the bed and walked quickly to the couch. He took a fresh pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one with a new match, then threw the spent twig on a seat cushion.
He looked at her with hate. He was still breathing hard, even panting. He took a drag of the cigarette as though it were fresh air. "You cunt," he said slowly, clearly. "You cunt!" Susie wondered who he hated more, her or himself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Susie closed the file, and the pages fluttered as the manila folder covered them. She leaned back in the wooden chair and pushed back so that the rollers cut a narrow path in the small room's carpeted floor. She inserted her file in the first drawer of her desk. Her eyes closed as she tried to imagine what Harris Foster would look like. It was one of the few mysteries permitted in a job that took sexual intimacy for granted, and even that mystery did not last long-only until she came face to face with a new patient.
The buzzer rang, and she depressed a button at the telephone's base. In the receiver she heard the voice of Dr. Chiver's secretary. "Room 217, Miss Giver." She rose wearily and pushed the phone into its cradle. She had had sex twice in the morning, once with Bob-and once autoerotically, with a specially wired vibrator that was to test the convulsions inside her vagina as she came.
Her bent fingers rolled their knuckles under the numeral 217. But the door had not been completely shut, and it pushed open under the gentle rapping.
All she could see of Harris Foster was his face. Perhaps she had been conditioned by reading his file, but she thought she could read the unhappiness of his marriage in his face. His hair was short, dark, and curly. His eyes were a clear, almost fluorescent blue, but the comers of his mouth seemed bent down to his chin. He was in his late thirties. The features were those of a younger man, inappropriate to middle-age, but the skin itself was a creased patchwork of lines.
The rest of his body was just a smooth cylinder under fresh white sheeting; even his arms were shrouded by the small bed's linen. He seemed stiff, and he did not even blink as she moved closer to the bed in her white nurse's uniform.
"Let instinct be your guide," Dr. Chiver said constantly in his seminars for the associate therapists, and she was beginning to feel more confident of her own perceptions. She eased down at the foot of the bed. Her buttocks pulled on the sheet, which hugged Foster's body more closely as her weight settled. She rested her right hand on her thigh. Foster's eyes turned toward her, though his skull did not move.
"Did they tell you my name?" She knew that they had not, but she was experimenting with new ways to introduce herself, ways that seemed more casual and more natural.
"No." Mucus obscured the real sound of his voice. He coughed; and his arm came from under the sheet to cover his mouth.
"Susie." She was coquettish as she continued. "I know your name-Harris."
He did not move. Susie rose and walked two steps. Her body was even with Foster's neck as she looked down.
"Harris?"
"Yes!" He seemed surprised.
"Do you want me?"
There was an instant of silence. "Yes," he said slowly.
She opened her hand. Her palm pressed down on the sheet. His breast-bone was apparent. Her fingers rolled over the muscular flesh until he found the delicate cherry-colored nipples. He breathed deeply, and his hips rose from the mattress as his heels dug into it. He relaxed as Susie came closer. Her lips pressed down on the linen and left red outlines of their shape. Her tongue pushed from between them to wet the sheet with droplets of saliva. Harris Foster sighed as her breath flowed through the sheet and warmed his chest.
Susie rolled the slight flab that lined the man's belly. Blood pumped inside his cock; a gleaming bead of semen drooled onto the underside of the sheet. With her other hand, she raised the sheet and began to massage his sides. The white cloth obscured her head like a tent. He felt her hair float over his chest as her tongue moistened his short black hairs. Her right hand went back and forth over his waist, and the side of her hand -bumped first one pelvic bone and then the other.
She let her breasts, enclosed in a confining brassiere, rest at last on the mattress at her lover's side. She took his hand, which lay stiffly at parade rest, and her own tightened around it. Encouraged, he gripped one cone-shaped breast in his hand and squeezed it inside its case. The tit rustled awake, and the first sensations of pleasure stirred inside Susie.
Her pinky awkwardly bent below his stomach to discover the pubic hair, coarse and long. She looked at Foster. The pressure of the fingertip made him wince, and his eyes remained closed. She knew why. Gently, the four fingers swept down through the growth to a tiny erection, not much more than a two-inch phallic stump. The diameter was no more than a half-inch. Her thumb pushed in at the flattened side of the shaft. The third finger's sharp nail cut the wrinkled skin as it pulled it from the glans. Instinctively, Susie spread her legs as she dove for the tiny cock.
Harris Foster's hands sweated as he pushed the palms into the mattress. Her tongue rolled over the prick like the soft waves a patient ocean delivers to the sand. Her mouth was still for a moment, and the edges of her front teeth held him clamped between enamel borders. Foster moaned softly and bit the comer of his twisting lips.
Susie stopped abruptly. Every muscle in his body tensed as though he were waiting for assault. As her mouth left his body and she -stirred so that she lay on top of him, he opened his eyes. The lids drew back on the white. The pupils dilated, as if with fright, though she did not notice.
"What's wrong?"
"I was going to ask you that."
"What? I don't under-"
"Your body is like a spring, like an alarm clock ready to go off and wake someone up."
Foster's brow wrinkled. He began to speak, but gave up with a sigh.
Her fingers began to play absent-mindedly with his flesh. She scraped the skin softly but did not push in toward the bone. "Can you tell me why you won't relax?"
"Come on," he said, cynicism the message of his slow smile. "You didn't even have to open your mouth wide to blow me."
"But this way I could have all of it inside my mouth. That's nice for a woman, instead of having to struggle."
He looked suspiciously at the woman whose weight pressed his. "My wife married me, and she doesn't even like it. It's not big enough for her." He paused between sentences as if to catch his breath during a series of sprints. "She makes me wear a fake. "
"Why do you let her get away with that?"
"Huh?" Foster was disappointed as she rolled off of him. Her arm fit under his neck, and her fingers pressed at his naked shoulder. He felt her stomach pulse with breathing against the outside of his leg.
"I asked you why you -let her get away with that. "
"I wanted to make her come. She couldn't come with ... just me."
"Have you ever read a single book that said the size of the penis makes any difference."
"Maybe they don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. But it matters to Ruth. You should hear her talk- about dongs. I see her in a roomful of people, and her eye scans every male crotch there. Later she tells me which ones had hard-ons, and how big they were."
"She sounds like a bitch."
"Not really." Foster was defensive. "It's not her fault I'm so small."
"The clitoris is what's really important. And the size of a penis doesn't matter there." Susie took his hand in hers. She pulled at the hem of her uniform and bowed her body backwards. Below the layer of sheer white panty the bristle of pubic hair was obvious. Her thumb pulled at the elastic band, and she shook her hips as the brief brushed her thighs.
Her thumb and forefinger pushed in at the sides of Foster's wrist, and she felt his fingers point straight out from the hand. She gripped him more tightly, and his fingertips glided through the silken strands until she drilled the first joint of the forefinger to the clit. She eased her whole body toward the pinpoint of pressure. "There, you see?" she sighed. "That feels fine, just fine." Moisture seeped from the walls of the vagina. She ground her torso and then bumped forward. Harris' forefinger slipped easily inside the box, perspiring with cunt-grease.
Her own thumb covered his. She forced it against the button, and he rolled it energetically. It grew and stiffened under the prodding. She reached behind her and grabbed her own left ass-cheek in her hand. She bent her spine and thrust her pelvis forward, closer to Foster's hand. "Finger my other hole." Her voice was hard-edged, seductive, indicating need as much as desire. In a trance, the patient's index finger found the tight rectal entrance. She swiveled down as he stuffed the whole length of the bone inside the warm orifice.
Foster's other hand fumbled for the buttons at the back of her white dress. She inhaled and tried to compress her breasts, so that the bra would come off more easily. The uniform peeled off to her waist, exposed a flash of pink diaphragm. Susie leaned forward, and her warm hillocks swept over the flat, hard surface of Foster's chest. His hand turned back toward him as he stuck one finger inside the cunt and the other, at the same time, inside the rectal chute.
Susie reared back. Her left breast collided with her patient's chin. His mouth opened as if automatically and sucked the red cap deep inside. She felt wet suction pull in on the stiffening nipple. The edges of his lower front teeth grated the sharp erection at the areola's tip, and she squirmed so that his finger twisted inside the twin cavities.
Foster pulled his fingers out and reversed them. She felt anal warmth and dryness push forward into the pussy, as the sweat that covered the other finger meshed with the lubrication inside the sphincter.
She rose to her knees and then leaned back, putting her weight on her palms. Like tentacles, her slender limbs thrust forward, enclosing his body. "Come closer. Sit up. I want you to fuck me." She held his small thing inside her folded hand, her thumb pressed at the shaft's base. The side of her thin forefinger ran over the glans. His head shone with gummy pearl-white liquid.
Susie raised her legs and clamped them tightly around her partner's waist. Her palms cupped his shoulders, and she rose until the cock's head was against her hole. The dork slid easily inside the break. She took his hand and encouraged the stiff fingers to play with the loose flesh at the opening.
Her buttocks settled on his thighs. His legs flexed at the knees. He groaned as his thin tool shot inside the box. Her fingers pressed his wrist and drew his fingertips even harder against the twat-lips. With her other hand she massaged the small of his back while its thumb poked his pelvic bone. He began to move with violent jerks, but she knew he was merely simulating orgasmic thrusts to make her come. She moved up and to the side. As she did, the opening stretched wider. The penis was like a pencil close to one side of the dilated reddish-pink ring.
His hands rolled the ass-flesh that was partially covered by her uniform. He tried to draw her closer to his groin as he smashed deeper within the drooling vagina.
Even though he was small, she could feel him growing. She felt the most minute expansion in size. He jabbed her clit with his thumb while his fingers stroked the hollows in her thighs.
"Oh, that's nice ... That's real nice," purred Susie. The cock seemed to stir from the path it had repeated a dozen times already. It sprang in a spasm inside of her. This sparked new sensations in the well-oiled walls, and she began to speed her counterthrusts toward the pale, hair-covered penis.
Her breasts rolled over his torso as she shivered and leaned to one side, then the other, stretching her box. She tugged on the bag and seized one of his balls until he winced with pain.
"Yes ... yes ... yes!" she cried, and as she galloped, his ass left the bed while his legs straightened. He guided her body by the sides of her floating breasts and tried to drill her close to him. His own heels pushed in at her buns, which were sealed closely as Susie started to come. She jammed the tip of her index finger up against the buried part of the shaft, and this precipitated the first wad of cream that soaked inches of the cavity's already-wet interior.
Her body rocked against his. His cock started to shrivel inside her cunt. She played gingerly with the scrotum, and her index finger stroked the buried part of the deflating organ.
She pulled on the covering skin. His naked glans brushed the warm flesh of her oozing quim. She tightened the grip and felt him begin to erect again. Just as suddenly, she rose up and bent the board downwards, thrusting her beaver against the dome. He felt the friction of the clit over the cut, still coated with the come it had delivered.
She lifted her leg and turned herself around. She stationed her head between his sprawled legs. Her lips touched the sheets between his knees. She bucked her hips and found the small cock beneath her. She gripped his soles and, elbows on the bed, rose until her clitoris brushed his mouth with the hair and tissue that surrounded it.
Foster's fingers spread the waiting lips of the moist organ. He arched his back and pushed into the cleft. Susie shook her hips and rolled the inside of her mouth around the penis shape. She came 'up off of it and, on her knees, rolled the cock through the flaps of beaver-flesh before sitting down and covering it. Foster saw only the movement of her ass as she bobbed up and down.
Foster awkwardly moved to his knees, trying to force himself deeper. His heels pushed into the rims of his buttocks, and his hands encircled her thighs-thumbs pushing in at the sides of the upper legs, while the fingers compacted the inner thighs closer toward his body. Her muscles were tense as she tried to keep position. The cock moved inside her, and she clamped the vaginal muscles together around it. His hands traveled from her stomach to the undersides of her breast. The flat of his index finger rubbed the nipple until it was stiff. His other hand cupped the other one. He poked ahead until their pubic hair twined into a single net.
In a retreating stroke, the penis slipped from the hole; Susie reached between her spread legs to seize it and bring it back to the warm berth. Sweat coated her body and streamed from her clean-shaven armpits. Their skins slid against each over with each new thrust. Foster's breathing was like the labored wheezing of an old truck. Her pumping heart felt level with her eardrums. Her tongue touched her lower lip, but as he pushed forward, her upper teeth cut into it and she groaned, half because of the unexpected pain, half m disappointment at the backward movement of his cock-but the latter sensation was relieved as he jabbed her again.
His back ached, and he began to slow from fatigue. Realizing this, she lifted herself off him. On her knees, she crawled to his face. Her legs spread around his skull; he inhaled the sweet-sour musk. The filament brushed against his lips. His tongue extended out and licked a cluster of hairs while she squirmed and pushed her groin down on his twisting lips. He stuck a finger inside the moist cavity and separated the lips. His tongue licked the walls in quick flashes; his lips pursed and drew the fragments of flesh between his upper and lower teeth. The enamel just barely touched the twat s moist skin.
Her fingers poked his ribs. Her legs stretched out and sidled against him until she was even with the length of his body. She shook her head. Her hair blew wild as she tongued his lips. Her forefinger played with his neck skin; she pushed the hair away and sucked his ear between her lips. Her tongue flagged until, finally, she impatiently bit the earlobe. She grabbed his dong and the creased scrotum. He groaned while she yanked the bag, and again she thrust her mouth over his. Now her stroking was delicate, as he poured himself inside the pink cove. He scraped her lips before massaging the inside of her cheek with his tongue. His hand found her crotch; two fingers jammed the snatch. The rhythm was monotonous, but Susie sucked in on the twin bones. She scratched the back of his' hand as it moved toward her.
One hand played with the buttock-cheek while the other fingered her. A sloshing sound bubbled from the hole. Her ass rose, and then her cunt drowned the wading fingers. She rubbed the hair-covered skin to the side of the box with her fingertips, and his hand drew away from her privates to aim his prick into her. She swallowed it in one downward motion. She bent from side to side, forcing the head close against each wall, before she arched her spine and began to hump the whole bone.
His fingers touched the swelling of her buttocks while his fingers pushed at her stomach between the pelvic bones. Her hand massaged the slickness that covered the labia, and she rubbed the moisture into the pink skin underneath his own hairs. Her index and forefinger separated around the narrow board as it pushed toward her womb.
Susie's own finger traveled back, covered with sticky water from her hole, to her rectum, and .she played with the tight bung until the first two joints of the finger penetrated steaming ging.
She lay flat on him now, unmoving, as he shot his slim prick through the greased canal and played with the loose ass muscle. Her toes pushed into the mattress. The bed creaked as she bounced evenly, jiggling with him inside her vagina. She stuck her fingertips against the base and separated the small almonds. She threw one leg and then the other to the side of Foster's head, and she kissed his cheeks with her slippery tongue while jamming her chest flat against his. The feel of her tits hardening next to his muscle excited him and sent the blood surging from its root to its head.
She reached behind and hooked her forearms under his legs, which he had brought up behind her and bent at his knees. She pressed on the tight calf muscles as she hurried up and down the stick. The moisture in her organ made friction difficult, but as he was on the edge of coming Foster grabbed hold of her breasts and rubbed it with the back of his calloused hand. His teeth jutted into the slope of the breast, and she came down on the cock in quick and almost mechanical thuds. His foam exploded, covering the walls of her vagina, and swam toward the end of the passage.
As he grew smaller the cunt-walls constricted around the member and slowed its deflation. Her breathing was loud, like wind rushing. She rubbed her own stomach lightly with her palm and Foster's with the back of her hand. The glue started to congeal in her box and dry around the reduced staff. Susie made no move to end the contact.
"Were you faking?"
She laughed at the question, but her mouth did not smile and her eyes were concerned as she answered. "The whole idea of the clinic is to enable people to satisfy themselves and their partners. What sense would it make if I tried to fake, whether I was or not?"
He did not answer her question, but asked her another one instead. "Was I good then?"
"Good enough," she laughed, her fingers skating on the surface of his stomach.
CHAPTER FIVE
Susie stared at the New Hampshire Highway that stretched before them like a parched throat. Dr. Chiver had turned his FM radio to a classical station, but her foot tapped impatiently to a speedier rhythm. Even that music. began to be obscured by the converging mountains. She wondered why he had insisted she drive with him rather than take her own car. He talked sparingly, and little of his conversation concerned the Sensitivity Retreat he had arranged for the weekend.
"Is John Duster a psychologist or an M.D., Doctor?"
"A psychologist." The radio's static annoyed him and he turned the dial. Silence poured through the well-heated sedan. "Graduated from the University of California at Los Angeles. A pioneer in the field of encounter groups and touch-therapy."
"How large will the groups be?"
"John and I want to leave that to the patients and therapists themselves. Whatever is natural whatever just happens. We don't want to over-structure. After all, his whole philosophy revolves around the principle of spontaneity."
"How much of the therapy will be sexual?" Susie drew on the unlit menthol cigarette and licked the padding of the filter as though it were candy.
"This evening we see as a get-together. If there are any sexual ties forged, that's all to the good. But tomorrow we go into intense encounter-group work, then touch-therapy in the afternoon- and saunas for the whole group after dinner."
"Do you think it's really safe?" she asked.
"Safe?" He seemed genuinely puzzled, Susie noted. "In that way?"
"Well, for the first time we're letting the patients deal with each other rather than exclusively with their therapists,". "But Susie, we have selected the patients carefully. These are not patients, say, like that Frank Mason or Evelyn Weir. These are patients who experience orgasm and sexual pleasure, but not as frequently as they'd like."
John Duster entered the huge room. He had given the fifteen in the group (including three therapists) their white smocks, instructing them to wear nothing underneath, He wore identical garb, and Susie noticed the movement of his cock under the thin linen! His calves, exposed below the hem of the shirt were thin and well-muscled.
Thick gym mats covered the hardwood floors. Eight women faced seven men across four feet of gray padding. Duster took his place at the end, between the rows. He bent his .legs under him to the lotus style, his delicate hands folded over his lap.
"I imagine that Dr. Chiver has told you who I am. Would you introduce yourselves to me and to each other?" He nodded to a pretty young woman at his left. Her name was Alice. She was small and well-tanned, with ebony hair and superb round black eyes. The women introduced themselves, using only first names, and then the men counted off.
"The one restriction we observed in bringing together the people in this room was a negative restriction, really," began Duster. "That was that none of you had met before in your dealings at the Clinic. Further, we are not going to create any false barriers or a hierarchy in this situation. So we're not identifying ourselves as therapists or patients."
"David," he said, addressing the man at his right, "I'd like you to begin." The man, in his thirties, responded to the request with puzzled uncertainty, wrinkling his forehead with an unasked question.
"What I'd like you to do," Duster said softly, "is to go down the line of women and free-associate. That is, let yourself say anything that comes into your mind."
David giggled. "Anything?" Susie was uncertain if he was blushing or not.
Steadily, Duster repeated the question, this time as a statement of fact. "Anything!" He looked down the long mat and did not turn his head either way. As if to himself, he spoke slowly. "Your feelings about their looks-we would be foolish if we were to deny the primitive and natural responses to a person's sexual attractiveness or lack of it-their facial expressions, any feelings or sensations they inspire when you look at them, anything that occurs to you when you heard their voices as they introduced themselves."
David's face colored with blushing. He began tentatively. "Alice ... " He looked up at the girl, who flashed him a warm smile. "I was naturally very attracted to you," David began. "My eyes went to your breasts, but I couldn't figure out whether they were small or large, under the smock. I got an erection when one of your nipples became erect against the cloth, and I could see the nipple and the texture of the areola through the sheer linen. When you folded your legs underneath you, I tried to see your pubic hair, but all I saw was a dark shadow." He paused, and he turned to Duster for reassurance.
"Very good," the psychologist replied. "Very honest" He turned to the girl, who was in her early twenties, Susie guessed. "Do you have any response to what David has said, Alice?"
"I find him attractive too."
"Do you feel at all offended that he talked to you in a purely sexual way?"
The girl seemed surprised. "Should I be?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not." Duster now returned to David. "Do you have any other impressions of Alice, besides those you've mentioned? Try to imagine what she is like, what her personality is like. Invent things, if you must. We want to be careful not to restrict ourselves to intellect, logic, and deduction. Let us be free and try to amplify our intuitive abilities."
"She seems soft-I'm sorry, I mean you seem soft," David stammered, staring into the girl's eyes. "I mean, not just soft physically, but that you would let yourself drift. Be taken advantage of even. I have the sense that you demand comfort before you demand anything else, even to the exclusion of other things, things I would myself consider more important. My guess would be that you are dependent, dependent on men. That, when you were a child, you were especially dependent on your family."
"Is any of that true, Alice?" Duster's concentration turned from David to the girl, whose eyes had widened during the brief monologue. "It's very strange, but ... other people-people who've known me quite well, for a long time-have said the same thing."
A fortyish executive type leaped into the discussion at this point. "Susan-that is your name, right? Do you feel threatened by the men here?"
Susie was normally quite shy in groups, but in the spirit of the meeting she felt impelled to speak. "I think," she began, and she was suddenly aware that the attention of the others in the room was her possession. She felt a flicker of fright, but it was as though she'd been plunged into a pool of cold water. Her body was already growing to relish the icy immersion. "I think," she started again, and this time she continued.
And so the therapy began. It continued until noon.
"I was encouraged by the direction of the morning meeting," John said at the start of the afternoon session, "but if there are any of you who don't feel ready to undress before your friends in the group, I can t see that there wouldn't be any purpose served in pressuring you to' do so.
"Those who do feel free to take off their smocks, please go ahead however," he said as he rose and took off his own. A single tug disclosed his hair-shaded crotch to Susie's view. The cock hung like a thick, twisted rope. The dome at its end looked like a serpent's head. Susie stirred and unconsciously rubbed her buttocks against the floor; her thighs moved closer together and crumpled the ends of the pubic curls.
She stood. The hem of the thin linen garment chafed her thighs just above her knees. She bent her legs forward at the same time that she pushed the smock up her sides. Her face was covered with the white sheet as her pubic weeds were disclosed. Air brushed through the tangle, and she blushed beet-red behind the smock. The garment touched her firm areolas. In the next moment she was nude, though she clutched the lifeless smock in her right hand. Someone pulled on the cloth and she glanced down at her side. Susan, who had been sitting two places down, was now nude and on the floor behind her. She watched the smock unfurl as it floated to the floor.
Susan's breasts heaved with her intake of breath. Large, they were not rounded but curved at their tips which, like Susie's, were frozen hard and sharp. Her legs were folded Indian-style, but Susie could see the beginning of the hairy triangle, sparse threads of pale brown. Hair of the same color as that which covered Susan's box flowed down straight and clean over the girl's shoulders. Her eyes were an almost translucent green. Susie blinked as the young woman reached up for her own still-folded hand. She neither resisted nor complied. It was as if she were waiting for a sign.
Behind her John Duster sat cross-legged and continued to speak, while the other members of the group were engaged either in disrobing or in watching others disrobe.
"What I'd like to get across to you-what this therapy is supposed to get across to you, is that it is possible to be creative in human relationships.
"Here at the retreat we realize that, though we may never see each other again, we must try to create art with and among ourselves, this moment. Each second is an instant in eternity, and we must try to make that instant a perfect one. For this, we have certain tools: honesty, openness, trust, and our own natural instincts, including the erotic urges."
Susie's eyes had been fixed upon the twin aqua colored pools of Susan's eyes. At last she let her body relax. Her palm, limp within the other woman's, now squeezed at the transparent bones and rolled the tissue over Susan's knuckles. She lowered herself gracefully to the floor.
"I want you to touch each other, remembering the words from the song: If you're not with the one you love, love the one you're with.
"Just touch the person nearest you, touch them because you want to. Disregard the sex-that's why you were seated in a row with others of your gender. Touch ... feel ... experiment with sensation and emotion."
Susie felt herself dissolve into a cloud as Susan's fingers pushed down on the soft muscle of her breast. The inside of the green-eyed girl's palm scraped gently against Susie's erecting tit. Tentatively Susie put her fingertips to the surface of Susan's belly, just below the navel. Susan's thighs closed together and hid the slash from view.
As if in a dream state, Susie found herself diving for the muff.
The walls of Susie's box expanded around Susan's tongue and clamped down as the soft flank twisted against confinement. The flat of Susan's thumb jammed the raw anal opening, and the nail singed the sensitive sphincter tissue.
Susie rolled her sweating palm down the slope of the girl's breast. Her other hand explored the wet privates and pulled the shreds of flesh just outside the well-oiled vagina. The side of her hand rubbed the cleft, and the fingers moved in. One leg was to one side of Susan's head, while the other just touched the girl's cheek on the other side. Susan's groin was behind and beside her-even with her butt. Susie pushed her fingers up the twat as if milking it, her rhythm steady, even, and direct. Susan clutched the underside of her thighs and dug her fingernails into it. Her other hand reached down to the beaver. She rolled the polyp with her fingertip while Susie plunged inside with two digits.
Susie felt a rough fingertip trace the curve of her ankle as it curved to her foot. She looked down and saw a large, masculine hand. In a moment he was stretched out on his stomach, his head next to hers. She looked at him. He was so near that the craggy features of his middle-aged face filled her vision. He came closer, and his breath was warm. He touched her lips softly with his own. His tongue bristled against the enamel of her front teeth. She did not open her mouth wide, but let him struggle toward her throat. When he was deep inside her mouth, she fought him playfully with her tongue. She wrapped it like a blanket around his as it swept against her inner cheeks, and over the surface of her side teeth.
The man's name, Susie remembered now, was Gus. Gus' other hand pushed at her belly while his fingers pressed Susan's cheek. The young brunette raised her mouth from Susie's beaver and bit his finger. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, wincing. Recovering his composure, he chuckled manfully and leaned back. He swatted her naked behind with his open palm.
Susan, enraged, pushed up on her hands and stared at Gus with fury. Her arm aimed for his face, but he easily grabbed her forearm. His hands slipped to her waist and pinned her arms to the side of her chest. He leaned back and brought her toward him, on top of him.
She kicked him, but her flailing limb hit the floor, stubbing her toe. Gus' strong arm brought her beaver to his mouth. He sucked her cunt while she was still in the air. Susan rested her cheek against the floor, her breast bounced like twin pillows, and Gus' face was invisible below her hairy groin. His hands pulled at the cakes of her butt, and Susie knew instantly how to repay the pleasure Susan had been giving her.
The girl's ass was smooth as a baby's, though the smell between the hillocks was less overstated. The buttocks converged. Susie scraped the rims of the cheeks before pushing her nose into the thin wedge to seek out the ging. Her tongue stretched and squirmed until it smeared the raw sphincter with saliva. Her forefinger pushed at the opening until the first joint was swallowed. Her other fingers crawled to the front of Susan's body, and they caught the stroking of Gus' active tongue.
She pulled her hand back and remolded the muscles of Susan's buttocks. Susan meanwhile raised her upper body from the floor by pushing up on her palms. Soft, liquid moans escaped her throat.
Gus' hand found Susie's box. Two of his fingers slipped inside the willing cage. Susie, on her knees, thrust her pelvis forward to make easier the penetration, which Gus could effect only by touch with his face, covered by Susan's stomach and genitalia. At the same time, her breasts pointed downward and rubbed against the back of Susan's thighs. The surface of the areolas was stiff with friction.
Gus reached clumsily for her breast and squeezed it unmercifully. The pain of the pressure was a sensual counterpoint to the fingering of her vagina. The organ opened wide with each new surge. The dilations and contractions of the wet genital muscles were more frequent and seemed more intense.
Four fingertips at once waved the fragments of exterior skin this way and that until the clit grew diamond-hard. The bones squirmed together and entered the box in stiff concert. Gus pushed up on the soles of his feet, and Susie felt his hard stick jam between her own rear mountains. He grabbed at each of the twin muscles and tried to hold them apart while he speared the virginal second hole. She obliged him by swiveling down his prick, but she seemed impenetrable as the head of his dork touched the hot entrance. She pulled her sucking squirming mouth away from Susan's asshole and tried to push her bottom down on the penis.
She gasped when the head was inside her. The room was a dark void, unbroken by sound. His fingers pushed down upon her rounded shoulders so her body would float further down the shaft. Each inch was a stabbing pain that split her insides. The burning anal walls separated as the divining rod searched for her source.
Susan stirred on the periphery of the tableaux. But she moved not to warn Susie but to Gus. As she looked down, Susie, wondered if the girl would attempt revenge for Gus' intrusion on their lovemaking.
Instead, Susan's flashing green eyes searched for his scrotum, which hung out of sight between his spread legs. Her fingers jammed the loose skin to his body and made the double almonds obvious below the wrinkled surface.
Her hair caressed the soft surface of Susie's behind as she inhaled the juice-bag in her mouth. Gus groaned with the force of the suction. Her tongue went beyond the skin to lick at his hair-strewn rectum.
She blew into the crack and scraped the edges of her teeth on the rounding curve of the buttock. Her hand traveled up Susie's ass, tracing the inches of cock-shaft until they disappeared inside the therapist's ging.
Susan moved her lips to the base of Gus' stomach. She smoothed the pubic hairs with her tongue, making them glossy with spit. Her forefinger curled around the half-planted instrument and touched the flat of her thumb and the other side. Gus writhed at the pressure of the clamp. She released him. Her mouth returned to the dangling sac.
Gus teased Susie's clitoris, pulling it, rubbing it. He let go easily. His fingertips filled her navel. His other fingers stroked the sides of her belly and crawled down to the lines that divided thighs from crotch.
Susie knew she was about to come. She grabbed Gus' hand and forced the palm hard against the clitoral ridge. Spasm after spasm of orgasmic wave snapped her body. Susan raised her mouth off of Gus' scrotum and scraped the small of Susie's back with her teeth, while her arms moved to the other woman's breasts. She pinned the boobs back to Susie's chest. They were firm and hard under the support, and the nipples pushed into her own damp palm.
At last each movement down the cock's pole was slower, almost regretful, as if each inch was to be the last. Finally the cock pointed straight inside, visible only below the twin muscles.
"Why didn't you come?" rasped Susie from her pedestal.
"Too tight. It was like the blood inside my prick clotted, waiting to come out."
Susan was at his side. She ran her tongue over his upper and then his lower lips. His mouth opened, and the teeth parted. His tongue slid out as if in welcome. She turned her face against his. His slight beard scratched her nose. She bent her spine and then relaxed again, letting her breasts fall on his heaving chest. His fingertips smoothed the creamy skin there.
Painfully, because now she felt the rawness of the muscles that had to be whipped apart for her pleasure, Susie came up off the massive dark. Susie reached behind and aimed the tip of her index finger at her own sphincter. The skin was coated with pinkish fluid-blood, she realized, but not in quantity to indicate serious damage.
She lay back on the mat. Half-asleep, she watched a mural of copulating men and women, in twos and threes and fours-even one man alone, drawing the foreskin of his Denis down its shaft and exposing the purplish glans with each new tug.
Susan, on her knees, her torso messed in on both sides by Gus' thighs, had taken the first few inches of manhood inside her mouth. Her teeth gnawed at the shaft while her finger pulled down the skin. The side of her forefinger rubbed the glans until Gus grunted with ecstatic agony.
She took her mouth off the dong and whipped the skin up and down the organ until globs of white cream flew from the slit. They landed on the back of her pumping hand, inside the webbed pubic hair, on the surface of Gus' belly and thighs.
The lava surged until he .was spent. Susan licked at the come, cleaning the back of her hand as a cat might. She took the wads of white semen from his skin with the tip of her tongue and swallowed it in greedy gulps.
Gently, Gus clutched an ass-cheek while his other hand went for her musky-smelling vault. He rolled the stiffened ends of three fingers in circular motion over this pinkness, and Susan's hips thumped with pedestrian rhythm until at last her pelvis outraced the steady rotation of fingers over clit.
She slipped her beaver forward and absorbed the fingers inside her stretched twat. Like knives, the fingers cut through the slick mesh of muscle and vaginal fluid. He pulled the fingers out and covered the inflated button with moisture before plunging deep inside the greedy hole once more.
She felt herself being torn apart and swallowed, devoured by the suction that drew her away from all contact with reality with her situation, with time and place. Where was she, indeed, she wondered for a fraction of an instant. But when she turned her head, the first thing she saw was John Duster on his knees, fellating the man who had introduced himself as George. The other man stood, bent backward, his hands on his hips. All of his pecker but the head was outside Duster's mouth. The instrument was long and thick. The head for the one moment that Duster's mouth opened to disclose it, was pink, fat and bulbous-and covered with saliva.
CHAPTER SIX
When everyone was quiet, John Duster cleared his throat and began to speak. Susie stared at his lap. His long penis was limp, and it lay curled over his thigh.
"I'd like us, as a group, to share some of the experiences that happened in the last hour or so. Perhaps I should begin, as leader, with some of my own impressions.
"I had moved forward and put my hand on Peter's thigh. At first he responded stiffly. He returned my gesture by placing his hand on my thigh, at about the same place-careful, of course, not to come anywhere near my prick with his fingers.
"I sensed he was uptight. I asked him if he'd ever been blown before. He said he hadn't, not by a man. I asked him if he thought it would feel any different than if a woman did it, and he said no, he guessed not. I started to explain the concept, that, unless we are open to sexuality of all kinds, we are really closed to true sexuality of any specific variety. That man is not a heterosexual being, nor a homosexual nor a bisexual being, but really just a purely sexual being; open to all love experiences that gratify him.
"Without asking his consent, I stuck my head against his stomach and reached for his prick. I raised my lips and sucked the head between them, letting the edges of my front teeth rest on the circumcised skin. I licked the line that divided the dome from the shaft. Then I raised my head. 'Can you dig it?, I asked him, and he smiled shyly and nodded his head.
"I think the incident with Susan and Gus was instructive." he said, smiling in the direction of the three, who were now curled into a tissue of one body. Susie felt a childlike relief that it was not her own actions to which the attention of the group was being called.
"You see, when Gus started to make it with Susie. Susan was jealous." The relief was replaced in Susie's spinning emotions with a kind of exhibitionistic elation. "Just as Susan had expressed herself with honesty, Gus decided-quite creatively, I would say-that the only way to deal with that kind of hostility was through affection, through love.
"What I'd like to do now," said Duster, "is have you each describe your feelings as you're being made love to, by a man and a woman. It's a necessary exercise, eventually, in the course of therapy, for all of us. I find it produces new insights each time I try it, and I include myself in this part of therapy in all sessions. Alice, would you like to repeat with Nancy?" Alice nodded and smiled coyly, glancing at Nancy behind her.
Susie hadn't noticed it at first, but now it occurred to her that Nancy was at least a bit mannish, with her red-blond hair cropped close, and her smallish breasts, out of which came the large and unusually prominent raw-red nipples, turning upward as though tweaked.
Nancy stood up and walked toward the head of the mat, almost obscuring the group's view of Duster. Her ass was hard muscle, barely shaking with the rhythm of her jaunty walk. Prom between the legs, as Nancy walked, Susie could see the ends of a few auburn pubic wires from the full tuft.
"Which of the men attract you most-at this moment?" Duster asked.
Alice smiled shyly. "I'm sorry-I forgot your name," she said, speaking softly and looking straight into Gus' amused eyes.
"Gus," he said, and he pushed up on his knees and walked down the middle of the mat, haunches flexing as he came closer. He pressed his palms against her cheeks as though he were blessing her. Her eyes widened, caught by the sight of his enormous Prick. The glans was still covered by the foreskin. Immediately as she reached up to touch it, the dork started to climb to erection, and the rim of purple gleamed as the reddish skin withdrew.
Alice's fingertips combed through his pubic hair and smashed a thin sheath of skin hard against the pubic cartilage. Her mouth opened as if ready to accommodate the prick, but Duster raised his hand, motioning for her to stop.
"I'd like you to lie down, back on the mat, completely passive." She squirmed on her chubby butt. Her feet stretched out toward her audience. Her grease-coated incision was visible beneath the tawny underbrush of sexual hair. "Tell us how it feels, as it happens, as each sensation happens to you. "
Gus' body rose as he pushed up on his palms. His erection touched the center line of her belly. Nancy leaned in between the two parallel bodies and grasped it, rustling the foreskin and bringing the side of her forefinger against the glans. Gus' ass stuck further up in the air, and Nancy directed his member to the honey pot. "Oh, stick it in," Alice giggled, once the head of the machine was resting in the network of flesh and dark pubic hair.
"How does it feel?" asked John Duster. Gus had not penetrated.
"His cock is against my clitoris. I feel like I'm sweating inside my vagina. I want him to come in. side me, but even when he pushes, I know that it's hard to let in because I'm still too dry."
Nancy crawled on her knees to Alice's head. She turned and faced Gus just as he slipped inside the young girl's quim. She planted her own genitalia just above Alice's mouth, but the hair did not touch her lips. "I've never eaten someone out before," Alice said just before her tongue crawled from between her lips. She found Nancy's stubby clit and licked at it as though it might rise and bite her back. Gingerly she planted the first point of her first finger inside the vagina and wiggled the finger against the closing walls. Nancy moved her body quickly and with blunt rhythm back and forth, emphasizing its friction against the tiny digit.
Nancy put her hands at the sides of the girl's torso and leaned forward to kiss Gus. Gus' tongue flailed her thick, sensuous lips. She seemed to be fighting to get inside his mouth just as he preferred to linger on the surface of her lips. She grabbed his shoulders for balance, hooking her fingers over the rounded ball-joint. The index fingers moved inside, under the arm and into the hair-quilted pit, moist with sweat.
"He's all the way inside me," Alice said, her voice almost a whisper. The raw meat of her box clung tightly to the poker. "I can feel the pressure on my clit. Oh ... he's moving back." Her finger continued to stab Nancy's cunt, but only occasionally did her tongue and lips move to caress the labial surface.
Each stroke of his cock inside her was more swift, more direct, and seemingly deeper. As he drove the spike toward her womb, his ass turned up, the others could see his scrotum hanging from his crotch. Gus rubbed Nancy's tit with one hand, while with the other he gently caressed Alice's breasts.
An involuntary spasm of her cunt held him in a moist, fleshy vise. He wiped the flat of his forefinger over her clitoral bud to test its erection, then forced his straightened finger in beside his dark. The bone remained stationary while he pulled his organ back and then replanted it in the steamy pot. He jiggled the cock inside her, then pushed her back from the erection until only the dome was inside her, hidden between the damp and converging labia.
Her eyes closed as her mouth gaped open. Delirious, every thrust of his pecker could be detected in the snap of her small rounded chin against her collarbone. "Please ... make me ... come!" she shouted, her voice paper-thin. "I can't ... go on ... like this ... Please ... ! Oh! Oh fuck ... please ... ! Fuck!"
In the main cabin of the Sensitivity Retreat, where the majority of the guests were quartered, the therapists and patients gathered for a quiet meeting before the huge fireplace, glowing with dying wood. Hot sangria punch was served in ceramic mugs by the staff. Duster mentioned that the cups had been made in the Retreat's craft shop, which was open to all visitors-as part of therapy.
"Dr. Chiver and I would like you to feel free to talk about anything relating to the day's activities, but particularly we would like you to get at the reasons you are here-your problems, if you don't mind the use of the word." Susie sipped on her punch, then ran her tongue over her upper lip, which seemed anesthetized. A tall and thin man in his late twenties had begun to talk. His name' was Aaron, and he kept unconsciously pushing his sand-red hair from his face as he spoke.
"I came to the Clinic because I was gay. I became interested in this girl I had known but never dated in high school. I just happened to meet her casually about a year ago-she had been married and divorced in the interim. I became very fond of her, but I avoided sexual contact scrupulously until one day we took acid together and I found myself in bed with her, naked and impotent.
"The situation was terrifying, but Ann was calm and kind to me. I realized that I did love her, that I wanted to make love to her but I was paralyzed-sexually speaking.
"That's when I came to the Clinic. I was interviewed by Dr. Chiver. I suggested he treat me with the conditioned-reflex therapy rd read about in the papers. You know, where they sit you in a room and show you pictures of naked men, and they give you an electrical shock to condition you against an expectation of pleasure from homosexuality. But Dr. Chiver warned me against it, saying it thereafter colors the whole sexual experience with negative feelings, and that occasionally a sado-masochistic component enters into subsequent sexual relationships.
"I had refrained from any participation on the sex therapy during the afternoon and morning sessions. In the afternoon, I just leaned back on the mat and masturbated. I was fantasizing about Ann, but in my mind, she had a huge rubber dildo strapped around her waist and pointing out from her belly. I lay on my stomach, and Ann separated my cheeks and stuck the fake pecker between them, then plowed inside me, ripping apart the rectal muscles.
"But this evening, when we were all nude in the sauna bath, I started staring at Nancy, and she turned me on. I was surprised, and curiously embarrassed when I looked down at myself and saw that I had a full-sized erection. She was leaning against the wall, a towel tied around her waist.
"I was reduced to what for me is incredible shyness. Even though there was no one near us, I asked her almost in a whisper if I could kiss her. She seemed taken aback more by my timidity than by the request. After all, we were both naked." With this the young man shot a glance at Nancy, who was sitting on the couch opposite him. She seemed to follow the narrative with interest. At the moment, Susan's arm was wrapped around her small waist. She wore a ski sweater and nothing on beneath it; the outline of her nipples could be seen below the garment's thick weave.
"She smiled and said yes. Without touching her with my hands, I leaned forward. As my tongue traced the outline of her lips and then entered her mouth, crossing over and under hers, our chests met, and I felt her nipples harden as the tissue of the breasts slid on my skin.
"My mouth was still open and I was still kissing her when she brushed my chin with her lips and tongue. She bent her knees and playfully bit my neck. She rubbed my nipple with the flat of her finger. Her hand went between my legs. She jabbed the part of the shaft hidden below the scrotum, and my nuts ached with delirious excitation. Her fingertips were like cold steel knives against the heavy skin. I had an ache in the pit of my stomach, and I felt my belly burning with the load. I squeezed her upper arms, but she slipped out of my grasp.
"In the heat and moisture of the sauna, with sweat greasing our bodies, I felt her cool mouth envelop my cock. Her tongue smashed the underside, while the roof of her mouth grated over the bulb that stuck out at the head of the shaft. With her thumb she pulled the wrapping skin down toward the root, and she scratched the bag again. She pulled her face back and then rolled her lips over the head. She smiled and I felt the enamel of her teeth press upon the slit, which was already leaking goo.
"She forced it down so that it came out of my stomach at a hundred-and-eighty-degree angle. Her fingers pressed into the side of the soft machine and the come fought up to the tip of the instrument. She started yanking fast and hard at the skin. Just as I thought it was over, and I was going to splash semen all over her face, I pulled in and tried to keep myself from coming. It was a tremendous effort, and pretty painful too, but I wanted to come inside of her, instead of just shooting off in her mouth, like I'd always done with guys.
"My stomach was in. knots, and I was gasping for breath. I grabbed Nancy under her arms and pulled her up. My penis bobbed up and down as it streaked her body. My thumbs forced into the sides of her breasts, making them seem fuller as she stood before me. I bent my legs and nudged my cock against her pussy. She thrust her stomach into mine, and I felt myself parting the labia. Inside, I lingered with just my head penetrated; then I shoved deeper, until her cunt-flesh covered me. Little by little, with each new stroke, the pain dissolved or diffused in my belly, and I started to get excited again. It was like a ticklish feeling in my scrotum and the base of the prick.
"I could tell Nancy wasn't near to climax, but she must have known I was, because she said, 'That's all right, baby,' and started to slide real quickly back and forth on me, and I knew it was all right if I shot then. So I did, and it was an incredible relief. All the time I was climaxing, I kept thinking to myself, 'This is a girl I'm fucking, I'm inside a cunt, not an asshole,' and it was a great feeling. "
"This afternoon," volunteered Susan, "was the first time I made it with a guy in six months." Her hands were folded in Nancy's now.
"That's funny," laughed a fortyish blonde named Evelyn. "At the afternoon session, I made love to a woman for the first time in my life." Evelyn had been in the session led by Dr. Chiver, Susie noted. "Dr. Chiver told us to experiment with new forms of sex. He said the whole idea was to get turned on by as many different things as possible." she looked up at the physician as if for confirmation. She received approval in a smile, a nod, and a tapping of the habitual pipe.
"I was sitting next to Resi." She extended her arm to her left. Seated two places from her was a short blonde whose hair, almost ash-colored, was cropped in a stylish pageboy. Resi, across from whom Susie had been seated. at dinner, spoke with a marked German accent. She was a student from West Berlin who studied in a New Hampshire girls' college. Though she had no connection with the Clinic, she was a frequent weekender at the Sensitivity Retreat. She had come, she told Susie, originally to solve a difficulty with orgasm frequency, but, since her problem had been solved, she had come to be an occasional "colleague" of John Duster's; she was particularly fond of troilistic encounters.
"Resi was smiling at me. Her legs were folded under her Indian-style. I admired the way her large breasts stayed firm even when she was naked. I felt an irresistible urge to touch them. I was a few feet from her. I crept over on my knees. She was smiling at me, and she flashed her teeth at me and giggled as I shyly covered her brown nipple with my perspiring palm. I squeezed down on the breast, and she uncrossed her legs. She took my hand and led it to her hairy patch, then aimed her own fingers at the outer flesh of my own beaver. She was expert, while I clumsily inserted a single finger inside the vagina and began to pump hard at the lining, which seemed to pucker around the bone. While I fingered her, she stretched the labial folds outside my cunt. She bore down on the clit until I thought it would burst. I pulled my finger out from her. It was covered with the sweat from her quim. I bent the finger at the knuckle and rubbed off the moisture onto the hairless skin of her pale belly.
"I opened my mouth and took her breast inside. I felt the tit stiffen as it rubbed my tongue. I stuck my whole hand between her legs, and her thighs clasped it. She rubbed the muscles together, bringing her own fingertips to the external tissue while she made me wince with pleasure at the light pressure and the tantalizingly slow rhythm of her fingertips sliding over my clitoris.
"She told me I was beautiful; she whispered the words into my ear, then followed them with proof; her tongue slid over the surface, and she bit down on the lobe.
"Resi leaned back, and she seemed to be snap ping her head back against the nape of her neck. Her mouth was open, and her tongue lingered just outside the curve of the swelling pink lip. She curled it back and I smiled at the glint of perfect teeth. She kept bending and straightening her forefinger, rolling the nail over the skin of my neck while she rested her wrist on my shoulder. 'You kiss well,' she said, and I couldn't help the blush that accompanied my conscious satisfaction.
"She pushed me to the floor and applied her mouth to the hot, slimy mess of hair and tissue. The lips were parted, and the teeth dug into the filmy moisture and the cunt-flaps before she started to move them and twist them, over the clitoris. The pressure of them against me was delicious, but it just made me bum inside my belly, waiting for the friction of those full wet lips and an active tongue. I thrust myself up to her and the hairy beaver slid against her. Her warm breath made me tingle, cast a drying breeze on the clit, and then, as I settled my body down on the floor, she started to suck me in earnest.
"Her tongue protruded as far from her mouth as she could extend it. It slipped inside the box, and she wiggled it as she tasted. I pushed my fingertip down on my tiny erection, aching because of the attention it lacked, and I brushed her upper lip with the side of the finger before she took my hand by the wrist and pushed it to my side, firmly but gently.
"'I want you,' I whispered, while my fingers weaved on the loom of her flaxen hair. I scratched her scalp at the part, imploring her to suck me even harder with that tongue, with those rich lips twisting sinuously.
"She leaned to one side, tossing her head back, and looked at me as I rubbed the back of my skull against the floor, trying to rid myself of the tension that filled my groin. My eyes were closed, but the end of the oral rhythm made me open them again and look down at her. Something strange passed between us, some message from her eyes to mine and then back again. It all happened so fast, so smoothly, that I can't say for sure, but it was as if I knew what she would do before she did it.
"She curled her body away from me, as though she were turning from my glance in shame, and I saw the two buttocks open slightly and reveal the hairless path to her anus. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue on me, but I knew that at the same moment my lids closed, she was bringing her leg over me, straddling me while her face and mouth were drilled to my pussy. I felt the curls at the underside of my breast, and I reached down to touch them, work through them as I unbent my fingers at the joints and reached through the silky hair for her flesh-glossy and hot, waiting for the pressure and the friction. The two fingers parted like the sides of a wishbone, and while the tips pressed to the moist labia, the hole opened.
"Resi pushed her hips up in the air, took her beaver out of touching range for a moment, before she let herself down, legs straddled over my chin, smearing inside the cleft with the wetness of her organ.
"I couldn't help my hands from moving over her thighs, nor my fingers from pressing into the hollows. Impatient, Resi smashed down on my half. open mouth with her twat, and I rolled my tongue over a clot of hair until I came down on the slit, and Resi's groan told me how much she wanted me to continue. Now I felt the full weight of her body over me, and I was more excited than at first, because the pressure enveloped me-it was like being in the embrace of a man. All of a sudden, instead of it just being a local pressure, like some kind of sophisticated masturbation, another body was all I over me. I held on to her thighs with my nails. She was rolling the soggy cunt-flesh over my mouth, and I was smelling her as I was jamming my own pud against her teeth.
"My own coming seemed as though it were a shock to her because she had to fold her arms around my rump and imprison me while I let go with my pelvis and my groin, wiping myself over her lips and tongue. I stuck my thumb into her and licked her clitoris, kept the thumb hooked inside the cunt while I pulsed out my own orgasm and then, just as I drew the strokes out slower and slower, savoring the last undulations that filled my frame, she began to come."
CHAPTER SEVEN
On Monday morning, Susie entered the Clinic fatigued, even though she had slept well the night before after the monotonous drive home with the equally monotonous Dr. Chiver. She smiled perfunctorily at the white-uniformed receptionist, and proceeded down corridors to the small door euphemistically called her office.
There was a short note on her desk, and the handwriting she recognized as Dr. Chiver's. She was to turn on the closed-circuit camera before her first appointment of the morning, so that a tape of the performance could be reviewed by the executive staff.
The session was the first of its kind, Chiver had told her the previous week. Two male homosexuals -"married" for the past four years-had been employed by the Clinic for an experiment. Both men were in their thirties and neither had ever engaged successfully in heterosexual activities of any kind. Nor did either wish to change. Chiver indicated that this was an ideal experimental condition. Susie's role was to engage them both in sex, bowing to their wishes as to how she might best be used.
In response to a light rapping on the door, she rose from the bed and walked the few steps to the door.
Two men stood there, smiling. One was short, curly-haired, and black. He was compact, if not muscular. The other was tall, thin, bearded, and white, with an accent Susie identified as probably Midwestern.
The small black man was the first to cross the threshold. He wore a black turtleneck jersey under an expensive plaid sport jacket. His slacks were made of mustard-colored stretch material, and his narrow feet were protected by sharp-pointed boots of grainy black leather.
The second man followed him into the room. "My name is Kurt, and this is Jeff," he said, his palm extending as he gestured at the Negro. Jeff sat down on the room's one free chair, and Kurt placed his hand on the back of it. He was dressed in dungarees and a loose-fitting suede jacket.
"Jeff," she nodded, registering the introduction, "Kurt ... I'm Susie." The two men smiled at exactly the same moment, and the smiles ended simultaneously as the two faced each other. "You can put your clothing in there," she said, motioning to the closet and feeling rather like an intruder. Jeff crossed one leg over the other, pushed up his trousers, and unzipped his full-length boots. Kurt put one hand against the wall while he kicked off his tennis shoes.
When both were nude, Susie began. "What would you like to do now?"
Jeff, standing, looked at Kurt's cock and chuckled conspiratorially. "Well, to tell the truth, I'd like to blow Kurt's dick." The blond laughed appreciatively, and Susie sensed how easily she could be left out of the whole affair. But she persevered.
"All right. But why don't you come here on the bed? I'll do it to you while you do it to Kurt." She sensed a grimace beneath the polite nod Jeff gave her. Jeff's already erect phallus crossed over the front of the blond's legs, leaving a drop of wet, heavy cream. Kurt grabbed the cock an inch below the head and squeezed it until another white bead was forced out.
Susie stood at the foot of the bed and pushed her fingers into the dark, hard thighs. Jeff's legs moved obligingly apart. The black man was poised on his knees, and his scrotum hung between parted thighs. The balls looked like outlined semispheres at the bottom of the bag, and his wrinkled skin was like black crepe. A clean, manly odor of sweat greeted Susie as she stuck her head under Jeff's buttocks and yanked the juice-bag toward her mouth. For balance she dug her fingers into the muscular buns. His can tensed as she felt her tongue slide over the balls on the way to the shaft's end. She jammed the balls with her tongue tip, and drove the flat of her thumb against the phallus' buried root. Jeff whistled through his teeth.
"You do that real fine," he smiled, and she could see the lower half of his face upside down between his sprawled limbs. Susie wondered if he liked her doing it, or whether this was just the respect of one professional for another.
She was amazed how far his mouth could go down on his lover's pale prick. His teeth clamped down on the rod three quarters of the way to the base. She could hear harsh animal noises escape like crackling of radio static from the corner of Jeff's mouth. "Right on, brother," laughed Kurt aloud, and his body pushed up off the bed as he tried to drive the penis deeper into Jeff's mouth.
Susie backed down the bed on her knees. Her feet extended off the mattress. She separated her legs. She watched as Jeff's dark hand covered one side of Kurt's sparse-haired chest. Thumb and forefinger bunched together the reddish areola and the skin around it, while Jeff's other hand moved up the other side of the blond's torso, fingers shooting into the light, perspiration-covered hair under Kurt's arm. The fingers massaged the armpit, and the long tangled hairs moved like golden strands of wheat.
Both her thumbs pressed up against the sole of Jeff's left foot, while her fingers pushed his toes back toward her. She aimed the tiny stumps at her twat.
When he felt the moisture and the hair and the loose skin, Jeff flexed his toes energetically. Susie bent her first finger around his big toe and forced it inside the damp vaginal socket. Delicately he moved his ankle so that the organ pushed against both sides of the box. He stepped down on the hairy matting, and she forced her body close to his foot, feeling the pressure on her clitoris.
She kicked her legs out before her. Her calves draped Kurt's outstretched lower limbs, and her heels almost touched the sides of his buttocks. Now she could roll her pud directly over the smooth sole. She pulled the sides of the hole apart and then ground her pelvis from side to side so that each toe could slide for a fraction of a second into the pit itself.
His body inches above his lover's supine frame, Jeff moved his head until he looked down into Kurt's eyes. His ass was smooth hairless, and hard. He dipped his tongue into the blond's mouth, and their pink tongues flashed across gates of teeth. Her stomach tired, Susie leaned back and dug the small of her back into the mattress. Jeff had taken the lead; his toe brushed the rising clitoris until Susie felt the grease of the lubricating jelly melt at the hot water draining from her cunt-walls.
Slowly, like a tigress, she sprang over Jeff's back and rubbed her privates into his backside. Both the men felt her weight above them. The ends of her pubic hairs tickled the gap between Jeff's cheeks. She moved her body slightly to the side, drilling her hipbone into the black's rear. She pushed her wet pleasure-button into his stem muscle. He moved, and the friction caused a spasm that separated the sides of her sweaty organ. He was lying directly on top of Kurt, his penis fitting between the latter's legs, the head pushing into the mattress.
She reinserted her hand between the two men. She rolled the ball-like bases of her fingers over the taut chest-tissue of the blond. His nipple hardened at the hint of pressure, and she pushed on the erected grains with her thumb.
Her other hand massaged the folds of her own sex, and spread the moisture inside Jeff's tanned crack. Her index coated the ging, his sphincter was hot. Her tongue lashed the black's neck, and her right leg jammed in to separate his testicles.
His moan of pleasure directed her down the bed again. Her toes touched the floor, and she leaned sideways on the bed. She yanked Jeff's left leg and put her head under it, then grabbed his scrotum and fondled it gently with her fingers, while her tongue made intricate circular patterns on the tough skin of Kurt's bag.
Jeff lurched forward and bucked his ass for a minute before lowering his cock into his lover's scrotum. The head was buried inside the folds, but Susie's tongue easily found the glans. Her fingers burrowed between the cakes of the blond's ass, and she jammed a long feminine nail inside the slot.
She bit playfully at the skin of his thigh, and in a moment she insinuated her lips and tongue into the space that the pressure of Jeff's body made. Kurt's dick was forced up against his stomach. She opened her mouth and gobbled on the head as if toothless. She tasted the sweet seminal scum and wiped it off on the insides of her cheeks. She pulled the foreskin down and squeezed it.
Jeff leaned hard against Kurt, and he squashed the dome of his own cock into his lover's stomach. Susie's cheek felt the heat of the lower shaft. Then came the first maneuver designed for her pleasure-or at least to indicate their pleasure at her maneuvers. Jeff's forefinger scratched the corner of her lip just before he pushed himself off the bed and charged at the interior of her mouth, holding it open so that he could touch the start of her throat with the big black head. His fingers coursed through her hair, and he was massaging her ears and earlobes, rubbing the sides of her neck; forcing her tight up against his dong and the wool that covered its root.
He was scraping the roof of her mouth with each forward stroke. His thumb jutted into her jaw and the saliva began to bead on the sides of her thick tongue. She, sitting on the end of the bed, her body folding at the stomach, was playing with his bans. Jeff's eyes were shut tightly as he strained for all the friction her wet mouth could provide him.
Kurt was on his stomach, moving toward her crotch like an uncertain amphibian. She liked the feel of his rough blond stubble on her thigh as he pushed his tongue out and tried to find the clit with it. She thanked him by stroking the back of his neck with her forefinger, bearing down hard while Kurt sighed, satisfied. His hand reached up for his lover's scrotum, and his fingers intertwined with Susie's while together they milked Jeff's heavy, aching nuts.
The side of Kurt's finger touched the crease itself, but he only manipulated her with his tongue, whipping through the patch of hair and bullying the clitoris. Susie leaned back, sliding her mouth up to Jeff's head, arching her spine like a cat. Jeff's hands clasped her neck: leaning precariously forward, he pushed himself further down inside the warm shelter.
Finally she opened her mouth all the way and reared her head away from Jeff's prick-shining with her saliva. She let her back fall against the mattress, and shoved her ass up the bed while Kurt, his body curled to her side, followed her up, moving his chin over her sopping pud.
Jeff grabbed hold of his cock when her mouth was out of reach. Automatically he pulled back the skin as he waited. He walked to the side of the bed and looked down at Susie's face, contorted now with the pleasure Kurt was giving her with his sucking mouth. Her lips were parted, though he could hardly see deep inside her mouth, because her tongue came just outside to touch the center of her upper lip. The bed sank when he leaned forward and put his knees on it, then sank again as he lifted his leg and put himself over her. The underside of his penis touched Susie's face, and she felt her own moisture. He pushed forward, rolled his weight down on his palms; and she opened her lips wide while he shot inside her. She clamped down on the dick when he softly brushed the hard palate. She drew down on the foreskin and licked the glans. Jeff groaned, waiting; the cream welled up in his belly, and the sensation was so dose to orgasm yet so far from real relief that he couldn't expect the orgasm to come.
Susie liked the way Kurt ground his teeth into the twat-hair at the sides of the salty labia. He pushed down on the folds, and his finger made it just inside the cunt for the first time. The touch was uncertain, and surprised. The finger came out wet, and Kurt's tongue brushed it as he applied the fingertip to the clitoris. He bent his hand back so that only the base of the knuckles touched the slash. Susie forced her pussy all the way up against her mouth; the pressure of his tongue and of his finger seemed to blend with the force of her own sensation. It was as though his mouth were an organ in her own body, an extension of herself, and it was like she were tongue-fucking her own hole.
The inside of her cunt tightened like a wet fist, and she thrust the surface of the beaver up against Kurt's sucking mouth. At the same time she pulled in on Jeff's dick like a vacuum, and the sperm came pouring out, washing all over her throat, while she gulped to take it all in. Her heart was beating wildly, and the blood washed through her chest as if warmed by fire.
Jeff's erection started to die inside her mouth, but as he tried to pull it from her she licked it dry of the semen she hadn't caught in her throat. She unfolded her fingers and pushed the soft machine against her lower lips. Kurt's mouth was resting against her smelly gash, and his fingers were absent-mindedly tracing irregular patterns on the insides of her clammy, sweating thighs.
Jeff let himself down on the bed beside her, but he was too drained to require any of her attention. Kurt, rolled into an embryonic position, was still hard. Susie reached inside the coil to test the strength of the dork, and the blood was active as she squeezed. She put her hands under his arms and massaged his chest from behind him. She rested back on the mattress; his back on her stomach while she made his tits stiffen. She bent her legs at the knees and rolled the soles of her feet over his thighs, pushing in on the sides of his stalk. She pushed her big toe to one side and the second toe to the other around the cock, and it moved in a jerk as they both laughed. The steady breathing at her side told Susie what she needed to know about Jeff: he was already asleep.
"Don't you want to fuck me in the ass?" she said seductively to the blond, as if she knew the answer would be affirmative. She slithered out from under him and planted herself on her stomach. His own hands moved on her rump, and she opened the crack wider for him to see.
But Kurt was already pulling at her to turn over. This surprised her, but she complied. In a moment she knew what he wanted. "This way I can see you, look at you," he said, just as his prick pushed under her pubic arch and between her. buttocks. He tried to stuff the prick between the cheeks without stretching an opening for himself, and she felt as though she were being stuffed. She pushed up against him, touching his stomach with her own, while he reached under her and pulled the buttocks to create an alley for his dick to pass through on the way to the tight anus.
"Oh!" she said, laughing not because of the force, which was considerable, but because Kurt had stopped just short of the ging. "Please," she said as he hesitated, afraid to hurt her-and he moved against the hot muscle.
It was, Susie thought to herself, like being shot through with hot lead. The dick divided her body in two, and she grasped him at the small of his back so that he would move his belly in closer to her damp pud and her waiting, excited clit.
It had been crazy, she knew, not to lather up her asshole the way she had greased her cunt, with the clear jelly. The tissue inside her sphincter was parched, and she wanted his sperm to cool her, quench her. She tried moving up against him, to shove him deeper, but instead Kurt's stroke became more complicated and less penetrating. After he had been all the way inside her, after the whole of the cock had dipped way inside her belly, he was teasing her by the way the head would bend in sideways as it entered the now sweaty hole. Again she thrust her hips up off the bed, and this time she reached under her ass for the shaft of his prick. Her forefinger scratched the scrotum, pushing in between the balls, and her hand grasped the trunk while she shoved her plump little fanny down against it.
The feel of her begging for it with her lower body made him relent, excited him. He dug deep until she squealed, and then he stayed fully penetrated until she bumped to make him fuck her, make him stroke her with the solid erection until he creamed and made her come with him.
The look on his face would have made her smile and almost did, if she had not been on her guard to maintain a surface that would not threaten her patients. The expression that dressed Kurt's face was one of surprise, even of shock. Could it be she wondered, that he was surprised how quickly he had come with her? Of course, he had come into her through her anus, but his mouth had been all over her, starting at her cunt and belly, then sucking her tits and finally kissing her tongue, streaking past her lips.
The tightness of her asshole kept him tight inside of her, and the pressure may have had something to do with keeping him hard-as he seemed to be in the wake of climax. As if he knew what she was thinking, Kurt closed his eyes to cover his amazement. He rested the side of his face against Susie's breast while she stroked his cheek with her fingers-lightly, almost dreamily, flicking the hair that covered his ear with her thumb.
"What do you think?" She tried to sound detached as she asked the question, but she was not. Had Kurt not been so puzzled with his own reactions to ass-fucking her, he would have noticed.
"Do you want me to ... ?" He did not complete the sentence, did not even raise his voice at the last word to indicate a question, but Susie knew what he meant.
"No. I like having you inside me."
"Do women like it that way?"
"I do." She paused, wondering how much she could afford to venture. "I like it the other way too, of course."
"I fucked a girl once. Actually-twice, the same girl. Sort of fucked her."
"Huh?" Susie was puzzled by the way he twisted his answer, refining it as he went along, until he seemed to be saying something quite different.
"I didn't come, but I fucked her; I was inside her vagina." Coincidentally, when he spoke the word vagina, the inside of Susie's own quim vibrated, clamping shut around nothing. The movement inside the pussy was pleasant though, and she wondered if she could get Kurt to fuck her the traditional way. Jeff was still asleep, more soundly than at first, or so it seemed.
"You're still hard, aren't you?" She said it as though she were amazed, and her surprise proved to be contagious. Half in wonderment at his own powers, Kurt said that he was.
Susie moved her head against the pillow she had set under her head. She cocked it to the side hiding her neck and looking at him with the stare of a girl-child trying to seduce her father into the purchase of candy. She smuggled her hand, palm up, under his crotch, and wiggled her fingertips against the balls inside. The way he moved his stomach down against hers in response suggested he might just do it.
Without warning her he pulled out. Then he held her tightly and pressed the underside of the shaft against the externals of her sex organ. She felt a chill that began in her clitoris and filled the center of her belly. His legs were between hers, and she brought her thighs close in around them.
He slid up and down against her, not in a sexual way, but more as though he were trying to soothe himself by rocking. Still, the prick was hard, and perhaps he was building up the courage to come inside her, to break the walls of her quim apart and tuck her for real this time, in her woman's hole.
She tried to stroke the scrotum unobtrusively, subtly building a pleasure tension that would work its way up the cock and make him want to dive inside the pussy. The inside of her wrist stroked her own clit at the same time and she became alarmed that her own breathing was becoming fast and heavy, while his steady intake of air showed nothing out of the ordinary.
She put her other hand between them and stroked his chest until his nipple was hard. She pushed up and made him raise himself off her while she slid down under him on the bed. Kurt closed his eyes while her tongue made circles around his nipple. Her teeth dug in around the tit and bit at the pale blond skin. The touch of her tongue cooled him, surprised him. She was so gentle, and yet ... at the same time she had taken hold of the very root of his phallus. She was squeezing it so tight he could feel the" veins strain. Her fingers tapped the flatter side of the prick, stopping just short of the glans but hinting at friction there. He brought the bulb at the prick's end down into her stomach, and Susie gasped as it plunged fiercely; a pocket of air was forced back and down, and she farted loudly.
"I'm sorry," she said, and she was even more embarrassed when Kurt laughed away her chagrin.
"No matter," he said. "It happens with guys all the time."
She sucked in on her stomach and jammed her ass into the mattress, then led the prick lower into the bush of pubic hair, and rolled the side of the stalk against her clitoris. Kurt knew what she was doing; his body was almost limp and he allowed himself to be led as she gave herself pleasure with his sex.
It was with a sigh that he drew his stomach back and then re-aimed the phallus lower, at the pit itself. She closed her eyes, waiting for him, and he did not disappoint her. When she felt the head of the prick move through the tangle of her cunt hair, she reached down to her box and both hands spread the slick lips with her fingers, holding herself open for the assault.
She let him slide down easy until he penetrated fully; she didn't want to bring the muscles in tighter, did not want to manipulate his cock In a vise at first. She would lie there and let him take the lead, overcome his hesitancy about balling a woman. The movement of his dick soothed her; she thought she could stay like that forever, his stroking her slowly, without either of them coming-she would just enjoy the feeling of being filled with a man's cock, her hunger sated. But the calm was disturbed by the quiet rhythm of the strokes, and she wanted more, more of him. She looked into his eyes, and he was staring at her, waiting for her reaction. She was only half faking when she began to moan, her fingers moving light and almost ticklishly up his sides. He grunted as he pushed deeper than before, and now she pulled her vaginal muscles tight around the cock and sucked him inside.
He rolled the end of the stick inside her, rubbing the dome near the start of her womb. She felt a tugging on her insides, a first tremor as she undulated beneath him.
He shifted his stomach from side to side and stretched the hole as he did. The clit felt the pressure, and Susie rolled her sweating palms over his buttocks, kneading them.
She moved her index finger down into the crack of Kurt's ass. The tip wiggled against the, ribbon of flesh and then pushed in more easily than she had expected. The finger slid all the way down, and it seemed to trigger the orgasm.
All the fluid welled up within the dork came spurting out with the third stroke of her finger inside his ging. He moved so wildly that he threw her hand out of the crack, and her finger unplugged the bung-hole as her arms spread in a crucifixion pose at her sides, taking his sperm happily, thirstily. The lining of her twat muscle drank the foam while her breasts vibrated and she gasped for air. The coupling in its last moments was so violent that Jeff stirred on his side of the bed and looked at them both in amazed wonder.
"What the bloody hell?" he said, staring at Kurt as his body collapsed on Susie's frame, her skin wet with perspiration. The blond's hands had grasped Susie's upper arms, and he was holding her tightly when at last his chest drilled itself to hers, covering her erected tits.
Kurt threw his head back, eyes closed. He rolled over on his side, but he didn't bother to dislodge himself from Susie's cunt. His body touched Jeff's, blond on black. The Negro's hand grasped Kurt by his naked waist, clutching at a pocket of tissue. His fingers moved down the pink stomach to where the genitalia were joined, and he tested the cock at its root. Kurt's whang had already begun to deflate.
The shock had not passed, but the anger apparently had. "I just can't believe it, man," he said, his words soft and directed into Kurt's ear from behind. Kurt was still breathing heavily, but he heard his lover's startled announcement.
"I know what you mean. I can hardly believe it, either."
"How was it?" Jeff asked with curiosity.
"It was far-out"
"You liked it?" Jeff was incredulous.
"Sort of," Kurt answered, sheepish at the challenge.
"Would I like it?"
"Maybe, man, I don't know." Susie could easily decipher the fatigue in his voice. On his side, his eyes were closed, and the only place they now touched was at their sex organs. She pulled back and freed him, but he did not move a muscle.
Susie looked at Jeff now, and the black looked at her as if for the first time. As if he were in a forest and had discovered a new kind of animal-and a new kind of danger.
Kurt had withdrawn into some private place, or wished to, and Jeff knew this just by looking at the body that inhaled and exhaled regularly without moving except to inflate and deflate.
Susie thought she would let time take its course. The two were paid for four hours' work, and she would soon discover if boredom might be an incentive to sex. She lay on her back, trying to hold in the moisture of the come, trying to keep from dripping the seed on the linen below. She relaxed; she knew she could not "seduce" Jeff into making love to her. Kurt still was something of an innocent, at least when it came to women. Jeff distrusted her, perhaps even more now that she had temporarily "stolen" his lover.
Five minutes passed, during which time Kurt had slipped into and out of a snore; he remained sleeping, however, though the soundness of the sleep had not been tested by any movement on the bed until Jeff arose. Susie opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, just in case he was checking. But he was looking across the room, and his hands were planted firmly on his hips. She waited for him to become the creature of instinct she knew him to be.
Then he turned, and she turned on her side and put her chin in her hand, leaning forward on her elbow. She raised her eyebrow, waiting for him to make the next move, but she did not say a word. Neither did Jeff. He swaggered over to the side of the bed. "I like floors," he said, and he threw his head back. She was surprised at how commanding he seemed-in a situation where he could hardly be at ease.
She rose up off the bed and sat down on the floor, her legs crossed loosely in front of her. Only the top of her pubic fur showed, and she curled one hand on each knee. He crouched lower, and his penis was only half stiff. She wondered if she should reach for it. She wanted to; it had a fierce beauty of its own, and she wanted badly to pump it. But she was afraid to take the lead away from him, and so she waited for his initiative.
On his knees, he pushed her back, and she straightened her legs as she let herself be instructed. She left them open, to make it easier for him to touch her vagina, but for the moment he came nowhere near her sex.
His own legs sprawled, he was moving up her chest on his knees, aiming the dick between her breasts and pushing them tight around the organ. His palms touched the nipples and made them stiff. He pressed the tissue until one of the dark circles rubbed the side of the penis. He curved his spine as he drove the head into the areola, and Susie felt herself go damp inside her cunt when the surface of the tit was moistened with his semen.
He was driving the cock into her jug, fucking her breasts, which wobbled beneath the pressure. His hand, behind him, moved over her stomach. But he hesitated just when he was nearest to her cunt and the hair that covered the area. She thrust her hips off the bed and her pud into the air, but he did not take the clammy bait she offered. His fingers hooked into the soft meat of her belly, pulling on her navel and making her sweat at her armpits and inside her vaginal slash.
"Both of her hands held his cock as though it were a sacred relic, rushing-fingertips just barely touching shining dark skin-up and down the tool's length, while Jeff moved his lower body up and down, making the cock tear between the boobs.
"I want to suck it. Please ... let me suck it" Her fingers folded inside the crack, teasing the skin that led to the bung. Her thumbnail curled back to stroke the scrotal skin. Jeff did not move; he seemed to be considering the request.
"Of course ... " she purred, rolling the tip of her forefinger over his shithole, "I could suck you ... there!" The last word came just as she broke the seal with her sharp fingernail, pushing apart the muscle and moving inside the cock-worn asshole.
He bolted, touching her breasts with his rump as he moved up her body. But Susie grabbed his ass and held one cheek in each hand. She drew the globes apart and bobbed her head under them, rolling the edge of her tongue over the salty sphincter. He sighed, his whole body stiff, at the first movements of the tongue. Slowly he relaxed, easing down on her face, until he rolled his weight forward on his palms.
Now Susie's head was moving wildly up and down, tasting each millimeter of the ging. She flagged it with her tongue's tip, and she tried pulling at one side to open the muscle, but her forefingers slipped on the moisture her own mouth left.
She, impatient to hold on to something, began to chew at his flesh, pulled her mouth away and began to tongue-kiss his ass, biting into the tissue and grinding her teeth against it.
She was breathing heavily when she told him to get on his back. She was surprised at the meekness he showed in obeying. She hadn't meant to order or even suggest, but her excitement at having the big black cock inside her pussy had carried her away.
Her fingers moved through her hair and held the lips taut at the sides of the hole. She absent-mindedly rolled the flat of her thumb over her clitoris as she dipped her body down on his gleaming bronzed prick. She couldn't help groaning at the way it strained her, made her feel as though she was going to break on it.
The area just around the hole felt sore, and she felt uncomfortable the second that the first inch of phallic meat was inside her. She pushed up on her knees and decided she could lower herself more easily if, her hands palm down on Jeff's stomach, she literally screwed herself down the stake of the cock. She smeared some seminal film that had dripped out of his slit on her own privates, easing the way. She was stretching the skin down, pulling it toward his base and toward the kinky pubic hair, as If that somehow would make it easier to take the dick inside of her.
Jeff winced at the tightness of the grip. It seemed to confirm something he had always intuitively known about women: the way they would suck you it with their organs and then keep you prisoner inside their sex. With a man it was different. always it was violation, the rape of the asshole, and always he was the master.
Just as that observation passed through his mind, however, it was contradicted by the fact that Susie seemed to be easily sliding up and down his pole-pimping him, of course, but pumping him easily. His belly already felt like a pot being warmed over a campfire. The simmering warmed him, and yet a chill cut a path down his spine. He shrugged his shoulders involuntarily and watched her come down his erection. She was licking her lips, and her eyes were closed. She was breathing heavily; noticing this, Jeff realized that he himself was excited and his chest was moving at an advanced rate.
Susie's eyes were closed, and for some reason he wanted to touch her face. He put his fingertips to her cheeks. The touch was gentle, and Susie, opening her eyes and looking down at Jeff's face, was touched-and surprised at her own ability to be touched. The emotion was like a choking feeling deep III her throat or high in her chest.
She smiled tentatively, afraid that he might not want her to know, to realize the tenderness, or he might not wish to see her depth of response. The inside of her belly was making demands on her though, and she moved more quickly up his dong and slammed her pussy down harder against the base of his shaft.
She rolled her fingers through the net of dark crotch hair, and she felt her dampness on him. Her pussy was sloppy with moisture, and the smell of sex was heavy in the embrace of their bodies. His balls, as she poked them inside-the sac, seemed bigger, swelled with his ooze. He had begun to strain as he pushed up off the floor, his stomach muscles contracted, and into her, deep inside, thrusting the cunt-walls apart.
She took his hand tenderly and led it to her breast, moving with the wiggle she gave as she dropped down the cock. His hands grasped the creamy jug, and his fingers took turns crossing over the sharp areola. She moved her sweating palm over his hipbone, and she jabbed the inside of his navel with her index fingernail.
A vein she had not noticed before began to throb on the surface of Jeff's forehead. He was tightening his buttock muscles as he moved forward, a piston in mechanical motion inside her juicy machine.
She put her hands behind her head and twisted her body so that one hip was thrust out, then the other, as she threw herself down the erection, slamming her body, welding her own crotch to his. Her breasts moved like Jell-O, and the tits danced to the music of the black's groans. "Ah ... oh ... ah ... !" he grunted, and the lather came out of him and into her, glutting her stomach as her cunt-walls sucked in on the fluid, replenishing themselves with new moisture in place of the moisture friction had taken away. Her hands moved under Jeff's neck and brought him off the floor-surprising herself with her own strength-so that her breasts moved against his face as she came with him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She did not respect Dr. Chiver-by this time it had become obvious to her that she would have to do pretty much of an expose on the Clinic for the magazine-and yet she found herself flattered by the praise both he and Mrs. Talma heaped upon her in the aftermath of her performance with Kurt and Jeff.
It surprised her how Libby Talma managed to dominate the conversation when she shared a room with Dr. Chiver. "The post-therapy interviews were of course taken separately," Mrs. Talma told her in a rather sexy voice-a voice that belied her rather frumpy middle-aged figure.
"For purposes of experiment, and to simulate more closely a regular sexual involvement," she went on, "we're having both of the boys see different therapists here at the Clinic. Of course, they requested you, but we mustn't let them get too involved. "
Susie was rather offended that the woman referred to the two grown men as "boys." Wil Chiver looked as if he were about to form a syllable-indeed, he lurched forward in his office chair-but he was intercepted by Mrs. Talma.
"Your next assignment should be even more interesting, and, if I may say so, more personally satisfying. You see, we are working with a couple. The wife is bisexual and the husband straight as the young people say. We do not want to change them-they are both quite satisfied with their sex lives, which seems quite active and healthy. What we do wish is to observe them and to study, via videotape, the patterns of aggression and passivity with a female 'outside' put into the equation."
Libby Talma struck Susie as a bit pedantic, a failing she attributed to long contact with Dr. Chiver.
They had decided to put Susie in a new "suite" in the Clinic, and Susie was a bit flabbergasted when she saw it. It was hardly grand, but it was quite a change from the antiseptic and austere surroundings of her previous quarters. It had been designed to simulate a small "studio" apartment, and it included a bathroom and a small kitchenette, divided from the living room and bedroom by a formic a bar with several high stools. This, then, was her reward for dealing so successfully with Jeff and Kurt, the married homosexuals.
She was left alone in the room to relax before Donna and Bruce were brought in. She went to the closet, and there she found two nightgowns, one black lace and ankle-length, the other thigh-high and sheer white linen. Both were, thoughtfully enough, in her size; she debated her mood before changing into the frilly black negligee.
She was admiring herself in the mirror over the bathroom medicine chest when the door was rattled by heavy knocking-a man, she was sure.
She was right because Bruce's fist was still raised when she drew the door back and stood waiting. Curiously enough, Bruce's eyes glided past her and surveyed the modern interior of the apartment, while Donna looked at her' with the glance of a predator.
Bruce settled on the couch and was looking longingly at the bar. "Got anything to drink?" he asked, conscious that he was not being scrupulously polite, but sure that strict rules of courtesy need not be observed in these situations-that they might even be awkward.
Susie did not wish to make his breach more than a little obvious. She stood .still near the door, and let her eyes wash over Donna and Bruce as she said, "Hi, I'm Susie. I hope we're going to be friends."
"I'm Donna," the woman said, "and I'm sure we will be." She was tall and blond; her shoulders were broad for a woman, and her breasts, inside a bra, were big. Her legs were long and her calves well formed, though not thin. She was not quite pretty, but she was attractive. She had a good smile, and perfect peach skin. The way she carried herself showed confidence and athletic agility; she reminded Susie of what the reporter had always called a "California type, rather horsy but refined."
Bruce had not said a word since asking for refreshment, but his wife's enthusiasm had forced him to consider Susie afresh. Not complimenting her directly, he turned to his wife. "What did I tell you? Didn't I say they'd give us some good-looking ones?"
For the first time since she had begun the "job," an unmixed feeling of disgust passed through Susie, making her feel nothing better than a whore. Bruce repulsed her, and the feeling. was not tempered-as it had been in her other encounters-by sympathy or compassion.
Not that he was unattractive. Now that he was seated, she couldn't tell whether her first impression of his height-that he was shorter than his wife by at least an inch-was correct. He was in his middle-thirties, and his face had. features girls in high school tend to can cute; they had been frozen by the fifteen or so years since high school, the grimness of seeing an averaged high school senior made her wish he were uglier. Still, his body was good-thin, bony, but hard, the type she always enjoyed having sex with.
He had already kicked off his shoes, but Susie's attention was distracted by the way Donna raised her leg and put her hand on the heel of her patent leather shoe. The woman gestured to the other side of the room where heavy drapes covered the wall-length window. "Is that the bed?"
Susie nodded. She had already determined that Bruce wanted a Scotch-and-seven, and that Donna wanted a gin and tonic. She was herself surprised at how well-stocked the bar was. She didn't feel she needed relaxing, and it was always better, she thought, to work with one's full range of sensation, so she drank a Coke while the couple finished their drinks.
Both had moved to the bed, and Susie watched while Donna yanked her husband's belt buckle open and slid the belt through the trouser loops. She threw the leather snake to the floor and unzipped the zipper. Oblivious, it seemed, to Susie's presence, she pried the trunk of his short but amazingly thick prick from his boxer shorts. The fondness with which she touched the instrument was so apparent that Susie recalled Libby Talma's praise of their marriage.
She drew nearer to them, rather excited by the possibilities for voyeurism. Donna was licking her lips, making the pink lipstick shine, and Susie figured she would go down on him, widening her lips to take the whole of the massive trunk onto her tongue.
Bruce had thrust his head back and was leaning, chin in elbow, against the pillow. He put his hand out, an empty glass on the palm, and looked at Susie appealingly as if for a refill. She walked back into the kitchen and put the glass in the sink, ignoring the request: he wouldn't be much good for clinical observation if he were bombed, and right at this moment she was being monitored by closed-circuit television. She had been told that, but they hadn't mentioned where the camera would be. Her eyes scanned the room, and she found a small socket with one glass eye on each of the four walls. These were deluxe accommodations!
Susie was conscious of her breasts moving under the flimsy gown as she walked back toward the bed; the way the fabric clung to the tits, irritating them slightly but making them stiff, exciting her. They stood out hard and scarlet beneath the layer of sheer nightie. She was conscious of Bruce's eyes as well. His head turned to watch her. Susie tried returning the stare, but she found herself shifting her eyes to his crotch.
Donna's open mouth had slid up the shaft and now her lips circled the bulbous head, while the rest of the dork shone with spit. The blue veins stood out hard beneath the skin, with its shifting hues of pink and tan. His wife seemed to enjoy tremendously sucking at Bruce's dick, but he was apparently more moved by the nudity under the therapist s gown than by the tongue's manipulation. Donna's blow was soundless and smooth; the woman's eyes were closed as she pulled in on the organ.
Susie helped her by pulling Bruce's trousers and undershorts, now at his hairy thighs, down his legs, after first unlacing his shoes and pulling off his socks. The touch of Susie's hands on his limbs shifted his gears, and now he was sighing encouragement to Donna, fingering her scalp as her head turned from side to side and her mouth dropped lower down the penis.
Susie undid his shirt and rolled her fingers up and down his flat chest, poking the nipples until they were tingling and his breathing sounded asthmatic.
The coup de grace, in this case, was the way her tongue curled around the areola and her lips twisted over the thin hairs that lined the skin. Her fingers scratched amiably, lightly at his belly, and the back of her hand touched Donna's cheek, warm with excitement. She moved to Donna's lips with her forefinger, and she pressed the tip down on a drop of semen that the prick had already produced.
Bruce's whole body was moving with the rhythm of the pulsing cream inside his stomach; responding sexually, he was like a good rock-and-roll dancer. Not only his lower torso, not only his legs, but even his shoulders and his neck snapped with each beat.
Susie rolled her fingertip over the wet nipple, and she spread out on the large bed beside him so that she could run her tongue up the side of his neck, pushing it under his ear. His breathing became a deep wheeze at this, and he turned his head toward I her, his tongue half out of his mouth. He put his fingers against the base of her skull and pulled her toward him. Complying, she ran her fingers through his oily hair and waited for him to enter her mouth.
He teased her at first with the way his wet lips just twisted against hers, and his teeth pushed beneath them until her lips felt raw and her gums ached. When his tongue finally did glide past the lips, it was to soothe her. He put his hand to her breast, rubbing the tit with the inside of the dressing gown. He put his leg between hers, and he tried to shoot his knee up to her crotch, but the material would not follow, thus restraining him. He contented himself with pushing down on her belly with four of his fingertips. She felt them inside her pubic wool. She arched her spine and sent her buttocks off the floor, urging him to go lower-and he did.
He teased the labia and bent his forefinger at the knuckle, rubbing the tissue just around the clit. He was jamming his ass into the mattress while Donna continued to suck him, coming up occasionally for frantic gasps of air. "Not so much teeth, doll," her husband told her, drying her sweating forehead with the side of his hand.
Susie felt another set of fingers on her leg, this time under the negligee. These were softer and the nails were longer. Those nails scraped the skin gently as they moved up her thigh. The three of them were curled into a knot of flesh, and in the next moment Susie's vaginal muscles dilated at the feel of a single long finger invading the cunt-while above the skin of fabric, Bruce's fingertips bore down rhythmically on her button.
Donna's finger moved in a circle, stretching the walls of her cooze. The fluid from Susie's vagina was thick and warm on the woman's finger, and she felt the juice move under her nail. Donna brought her head up off her husband's short, thick stump and bent the cock to the side. It bent, but did not lose its incredible stiffness.
Susie saw almost immediately what Donna was trying to accomplish with her husband's willing approval. Donna had slid the garment up Susie's legs, and had turned her husband on his side. She was aiming the cock at the therapist's slickened pussy.
Bruce's hips were moving quickly and anxiously; he was not touching her now, but he was trying to place the cock in the slot. Susie waited, then took the phallus in her hand and, holding onto it, moved closer to him. She bent her back and stuck her stomach out a little; the dork made it inside those hot walls.
He was straining her with the thickness of the penis. She waited to see what Donna would do. The blonde got up off the bed and, thrusting her breasts forward, reached under the top to unsnap her bra. She sighed audibly when the click registered, and in a second Susie could see, from the comer of her eye, those two big breasts underneath the fabric, hanging without support. The tits were large and ripely erect. Donna was intent on the sight of her husband penetrating the therapist's raw twat, and she was lifting her hidden jugs, starting to masturbate her nipples while she stood watching.
"This isn't really comfortable," Susie said aloud, and with that she pressed her fingers deep into the small of Bruce's back, signaling him to mount her properly. In the traditional position he drove the dick all the way inside, rubbing his hairy crotch-skin next to hers.
Donna had pulled the top past her brown nipples, and she had her index fingers moving across both tits, while her thumbs poked at the sides. She pushed them closer together and spread her legs further apart, almost losing her balance. Then, quickly, she finished undressing. Glancing down at her large but feminine body, she went toward the bed and aimed her head between the four-legged sex machine oiled by sweat and internal lubrications.
She pulled on Bruce's scrotum with her forefinger and her thumb. She licked at the balls beneath the heavy skin, and in response he plunged down Susie's quim in a violent thrust. Her twat muscles answered by tightening around the prick. She had him locked so tight inside her that he had to wrench the cock out from her so that he could continue the rhythm. He was milking her so rapidly with the dong that she was not surprised when the next moment he yanked all the way out. Donna's mouth slid onto Susie's beaver and she whipped the labia and the clit with the edge of her tongue while Bruce got off Susie and pulled himself level with her face. He pushed his cock down from its upright angle and hunched forward, offering it to her for sucking.
She opened her mouth so wide that she heard her Jaw muscles pop. She was amazed by the size of the machine, its thickness. She grasped it midway down the stem and squeezed; the pressure made him shoot it down her mouth, almost gagging her. Her tongue flicked wildly at its underside in an effort to keep up. She stuck her finger in her mouth and pushed it to the glans. She turned her wrist and rolled the finger over the purplish ridge. Bruce groaned. Now, as her husband was fucking Susie in the mouth, his wife was exploring her cunt with tongue and firm, full lips.
She accompanied the cunnilingus with a digital massage that had Susie squirming to push her groin even closer. Donna's thumbs rolled over the labia while her tongue rinsed the clitoris in saliva. Then she began to pull in, sucking, at the pimple itself, releasing it against the crotch skin where she bathed it again with her tongue tip.
Finally Donna turned her hand and pushed four fingers inside Susie, stretching the walls about as much as her husband's cock had only moments before. She pumped the sore hole, soaking the bones in profuse vaginal moisture, while rubbing her chin and lips over the surging clitoris.
Donna raised her sights and her arms to her husband's bum. She spread her fingers out on his cheeks and then pulled the buttocks part to make the crack bigger. Then she went inside it with wet fingers and stroked the ging lightly and teasingly until Bruce began to gallop inside Susie's mouth, shooting come down her throat, charging past her teeth as they tried to close down and contain his thick trunk.
She let herself go, let herself twist and thrust her pud into Donna's mouth. Donna scratched the surface of Bruce's anus with her fingernails, and he groaned with pain as the last few clumps of sperm came out of his mouth. Susie was still lapping them up as Donna sucked in on her button, pressing her chin to her damp beaver-flaps. When she began to come down from the peak, her movements slowing, Donna knew one more trick to draw out the orgasm: she doubled her right hand in a fist and jammed the knuckles over the clit until Susie's body was racked by the convulsions of a second orgasm. Bruce pulled his cock out of her mouth, and the limp hose lay against her neck as he watched her face transmit the jolts of pleasure that were filling her cunt and pelvis. He waited until it was over and she exhausted, her skin coated with perspiration-to get off her and lie down on his back. He extended his hand down the bed to his wife, who took it with her own and squeezed it affectionately.
"You guys really go to town, don't you?" She could think of nothing that would tell them just how good her climax had been.
"Well, you might say we like it raw," said Donna.
"Nice and dirty, if you know what I mean," Bruce said with a smirk.
"How are you doing honey?" Donna asked her husband.
"I'll be ready in a second," Bruce replied, disclosing with his answer the real content of her question. He looked down at his prick at the same moment Susie gave it her appreciative glance. It was already starting to grow in heft.
"Now let's make love to Bruce, okay?" Donna asked Susie, and Susie nodded. Both women rose up off the bed and left Bruce spread-eagled in the center of the mattress. He looked at both women, especially at Susie as she lifted her arms and brought the negligee off her shoulders, disclosing her perfect nudity. His attention centered on the pink-and-black tangle of her crotch, and he smiled at a strand of white come at the corner of her mouth which stretched and popped as she started to yawn. Instinctively her tongue pushed out and cleaned the lip.
Susie straddled him first, settling her naked rump at the center of his chest. She leaned forward and brushed her jugs against his neck while she gathered his skull in her hands and tongued his lips excitedly. He stroked the back of her ear and pushed forward inside her mouth with his tongue. He moved his legs up the bed when his wife came between them to fellate him. She started by testing the erection with a hand-job, rushing the skin up and down over the glans and digging her thumb into the flatter side of the shaft while her pinky scratched the skin on the scrotum. The thumb stroked lower, and she forced it hard against the shaft covered by the bag. With her thumb still drilled to the base, Donna brought her soft mouth over the top of the cock and began.
She moved her upper lip against the slit, already coated with semen. She brought her tongue out of her mouth and tasted the dog-water. She pretended to bite into the cock below the glans, but her teeth didn't cut deeply, and while the pecker was still in her mouth she was pulling the skin up and down the shaft. She held the penis against her left inner cheek but Bruce, impatient, was already starting to move it in her mouth as though he were fucking.
Susie grazed his left tit with the edges of her lower teeth. She was pressing down at his belly, just below the navel, with her fingertips, as if to push the come down through his stalk. She shook her head and let her hair fall down on his neck and chest while she continued to slide her tongue sensuously and slowly over his.
Donna pushed two fingers up her husband's rear crack. He pressed the buns together and squeezed the fingers before they could penetrate the ging. She jammed the fingernail of her thumb into the base of the prick, and the shock of the pressure made him relax his buttocks. In a second she had penetrated the rectum with her index finger, and she was turning the bone around, stretching the sphincter and exciting him. He grabbed her head with his hands and tried to smash her lips to his drooling stick. She opened her teeth and let him pass over the tongue again.
Susie moved down the bed on her knees. She tongued the skin that covered his jagged hipbone, licked the indentation that led to' the pelvis, and massaged the skin around the base of the penis, pulling on the balls inside their sac. Donna was moving her head up and down one side of Bruce's prick, and Susie took the other side. When she came to the glans, she hesitated and flagged the tip from side to side. She slid down the wrinkled skin again and, with Donna, she covered the surface of the scrotum with spit, while Bruce ached at the way they were bumping his testicles against each other.
Donna smiled at the earnest attention Susie displayed. She was so distracted that she stopped her own cock-kissing and brought her lips to Susie's cheek while the latter pressed her lips to the side of Bruce's prick. Easily diverted, Susie's tongue fell into Donna's mouth, and the blond woman sucked in on it like a hungry animal. Susie felt that she was being drowned. Donna was playing with one jug, forcing the mound of tissue hard against the bones of her chest.
Tentatively, Susie reached out to the cleft between Donna's legs. The pussy was hot, and the lips were distended around the hole. She poked at the clitoris-which seemed much bigger than her own. She followed a trail of lubrication into the cunt itself. Her finger moved up and down the narrow quim, and then she flicked the clit outside with the wet finger. Donna returned the attention by bowing her head and starting to perform cunnilingus on her.
Susie's hand reached out for Bruce's prick, and the hand-job she gave him was a subtle massage. She touched every pinpoint of skin on the cock with the inside of her fist. She was slow with one stroke, fast with the next. She applied a fingertip's pressure at the root, and Bruce's ass forced the cock deeper in her hand; she closed her fingers tight around it and continued pumping.
Donna's mouth obscured the hairy base of her own lap. The blonde was like a cat licking cream, and the action of her skillful tongue provided splinters of sensation that penetrated deep inside the hole. With her own free hand she reached up to her breast crossing her heart with her forearms and pressed at her nipple. The tit swelled, and she poked at it even more firmly. The juice was coming out of her vagina walls, and Donna's mouth was filled with the salt-sour liquid.
Donna's blond hair covered Susie's own pussy wool. She closed her eyes, imagining the way the woman's tongue would come down and over her glistening labia and, at the same moment, she felt the strengthening of Bruce's erection. She yanked the skin down hard, and he thrust his stomach up. She pulled again, and then the orgasm started, the warm, wet-sticky proof of it covering the back of her hand, a new wad with each stroke. Some of the come moved inside her fist and greased the way for the last few tugs.
She was so excited that she pulled the skin automatic, several strokes after he had been drained completely. He had to push her hand away with his own before lying back, relaxed and satisfied.
Her hand covered with jism. Susie could think of nothing but the oral manipulation Donna was giving her. She wanted to return the attention, but she was sitting with her legs spread and Donna's mouth close against her twat, and she was already too excited to move, to manipulate herself into the sixty-nine position. Instead, her hands moved carelessly through the blond hair, smearing come on the golden flax.
She reached for Donna's big tits, rolling her palm over the dark circles until they were stiff and needle-sharp. Her fingers probed lower, toward the diaphragm, while her mouth played wet games on the woman's neck.
Her hands closed tight around the breasts and she squeezed them with all her strength each time the tongue rolled over her clit, making it ache with tension. Donna pursed her lips and blew at the tiny muscle, and a burning sensation traveled all the way up her steamy cunt. Donna's hands slid under her naked rump, and she breathed deeply as handfuls of her own ass-flesh were compacted rhythmically. The bedsprings groaned with the weight of all three, but especially with the jerking of the two female bodies.
Susie cupped Donna's face in her hands and looked her in the eyes. Then she awkwardly kicked her legs out and leaned forward on the bed. Only their lips touching, their bodies moving out in either direction, the two women kissed. Bruce's attention had been regained, and he watched as the two avidly traded tongues. Susie's fingertips pressed at the back of his wife's neck, but Donna's hands were stroking the therapist's upper arms, occasionally moving into the pit to smooth the almost hairless skin.
Bruce, legs folded in front of him, suddenly pushed down on Susie's neck with his fingers. He drew the skin this way and that, and she felt the rush of new blood. She was surprised at the expertise he showed in massaging her; it was the technique of a professional masseur.
In time he bent forward so that he could take her ear in his mouth. He licked the lobe, then twisted inside the ear itself, still rubbing her neck skin with his hands. His grip, however, moved lower, and Susie cooperated by raising her breasts off the mattress. The hands then took the jugs and played with them as she relaxed, pressing herself again to the bed. The tits jutted out hard into his palms, and they were as warm as the sheets were cool against the back of his hands.
When Donna moved her mouth, Susie thought it was to breathe more deeply, but instead the woman rose up and came closer. She lowered her ass onto her heels, and her cunt was about an inch from Susie's mouth. The curls of pubic hair tickled her nose, Susie pressed forward and found the bead of flesh with her lips.
She pulled in on it, tasting it and a tuft of hair at the same time. Meanwhile Bruce had brought his hands out from under her, and he was now "chopping" at her back with the sides of his hand. She felt a chill pass down her spine, and the massage made her feel more alert, more alive.
Her fingertips moved over Donna's belly. Her touch was light, but the softness only seemed to enrage Donna. The woman's hands slipped down to the sides of her slot, and she pulled the labia aside so that the hole fairly gaped open. Susie's tongue cut in, and Donna let go the flaps. The puffy ribbons of flesh moved against Susie's lips as she continued to kiss the pussy, smelly and sopping wet.
The pressure of Bruce's dick, erect and as thick as before, frightened her when she felt it on the small of her back. Her own cunt was sore now, and she didn't want to get herself all ripped apart; that would postpone the conclusion of her research. But she was so involved in sucking Donna off that she didn't bother to stop him as he rubbed the base of her spine with the underside of his cock.
At the same time his thumbs were digging into the plumpish buttocks, jamming the loose muscle against her tailbone. His other fingers tickled her just under the rims of the globes, and one finger even moved between her legs.
She didn't know whether to be relieved or even more frightened when he pulled back and stuck the pecker between the two cheeks. She had a foreboding that he was too big, much too big. Surely he must know that, she told herself. But he continued to batter her with the penis and the feel of it next to her skin, near her anus, was exciting her. She would be hard-put to resist if he actually did try to stick it inside her. Her rectum tightened. He massaged her backbone gently, with his fingertips.
Donna was groaning, Susie wondered if she had imagined the change in the clitoris' color. It seemed now more purple than pink, and the size of the bud made her wonder at her own talent for cunnilingus. She smashed her lower lip down on it, the full force of her teeth below. Her first two fingers shot up the pussy, and Donna's walls closed in fiercely, hugging the bones.
Donna leaned back and planted her palms on the mattress. She looked, with her legs stretched far apart, as though she were posing for a beaver-shot in a pornographic magazine. Her whole body was taut with excitement, and Susie whipped her with her tongue, though she couldn't tell how near to coming the blonde was. Donna seemed to be drawing out the pleasure, not letting herself go. Susie expected that if she did not try to hold back the tide of orgasm, Donna would at this moment be slamming her whole stomach wildly against her mouth. Instead, her response grew slower; she was rolling her pud up and down, side to side.
Bruce was pulling so hard on her buttocks that she felt as though she were ripping apart. The cock burrowed between the warm cakes of unmuscled flesh until the head felt the heat of her anus. He pushed further and tested the resilience of the cavity while he fastened Susie down with his palms, flat on either side of her spine.
She brought her buns tight together and held him while he rubbed, moving the prick up and down the canal. The friction made her want him more with each stroke, but she was terrified that he would break her open and make her bleed when he inserted the huge member.
A little dab of the goo spread over her coil of muscle tissue, and when he finally pressed it to her, she relaxed and let him charge. "Oh!" she exclaimed, this first time, when he brought himself back. The shock of the next attack was too great for her even to scream. In one miraculous thrust, he was inside.
Donna pushed herself close to Susie's mouth. Susie wrapped her hands around the woman's buttocks, and her teeth jammed against the cartilage below the skin and hair. Donna was coming, grinding her stomach into Susie's anxious mouth. The noises the therapist made as she sucked in the orgasm were grotesquely loud, but they were absorbed in the catlike whimpers of Bruce's wife, who was smashing her lips against her heels as she pumped with the undulations that were opening the muscles of her cunt, inviting Susie to stick her fingers up to the end of the snatch. The dilations, were interrupted by snapping muscular contractions and Susie held on to Donna, afraid the demon in her body would make her move too fast and out of oral range.
Donna's fingers streaked through Susie's hair as if in slow motion, once the demon had been exorcised. Susie's head dropped to the bed, and she rolled her mouth against the sheet below. Bruce had her pinned down, and each new stroke tore more skin as it pushed past the rectum and into the small hole.
He had pushed her legs back, and his hands moved under her thighs. With the fingers of both hands he was playing with her labia, making her squirm with the pressure he exerted on her clitoris. The air was knocked out of her with each forward stroke. She was exhausted, and though she had first strained for air, now she was just an animal. She let her body do the work; she was on "automatic pilot"-merely a collection of responses to stimuli. As such, her body relaxed and let Bruce do with it as he would.
What he wished, in this case, was to drive his phallus further up her than she had ever been penetrated before. Bruce thought to himself that it was like fucking a particularly tight virgin. Susie's body was limp, as limp as her ging was tight.
Even the vagina did not respond when he manipulated it. He wondered for a moment if she was conscious. He pulled out and leaned over to look at her face. Her head was turned to one side, and she was looking out under heavy lids.
Satisfied that she was awake, he moved down the bed until his mouth touched her pussy from behind. He was surprised at the pungency of the odor from her asshole. He licked the external genitalia with his tongue, softly, as though it were the organ that hurt. Then he sat up and dabbed his fingertips into the sweaty slime. Holding one cheek aside, he ran his fingertips up and down the bruised rectum; Susie sighed with the relief of the moisture.
Next he dipped his fingers inside her box, and then pushed the index into the anus. There was no difficulty in pushing it deep; the cock had prepared her for this narrow joint.. The walls of the cavity seemed to suck in the moisture, and he repeated the transfer of lubrication several times, while his wife looked on.
He was greasing Susie for the next penetration, but now Donna leaned across her back and kissed him. His open palm rested on the curve of Susie's rump, while he let his wife lead-once the two mouths joined. He took her breast in his free hand and pushed his cock against Susie's upper leg, which shimmered at the pressure. He was excited by the idea of having his wife's jug in one hand and a strange woman's butt in his other. A drop of creamy fluid pushed out through the slit in his penis, and his arousal made him turn in greater earnest to shoving himself up Susie's ass.
Susie found that her ass ached now even though he had removed his phallus. She even missed the bulk of it, and a ticklish feeling surged through the knot of muscle that guarded the bung's interior. When he pushed between the cheeks, she half welcomed the sodomy she knew would follow. She dug her fingernails into the sheet and waited for the cock to pass through her. A sharp pain in the center of her stomach told her it had.
She watched, as if in a dream, the way Donna stretched out on the bed and spread her legs. The purplish ridges of labia hung loose around the cunt; her blond-brown hair in that region was darker than before, from the moisture of sweat. One of Donna's arms was drawn across her breasts, and the tits were covered by the straight line of her forearm.
The other hand slipped almost hesitatingly down her diaphragm and across her belly. It stopped just at the overturned base of the pubic triangle. The woman's legs joined together and barely obscured the surface of the pussy. The fingers joined tight together and crept inside the locked thighs. At the moment she pushed the tips up against the snatch, the legs parted and her tongue pushed out over her lower lip. The tongue moved back inside, but in a second Donna's upper front teeth bit down on the moistened bottom lip-in satisfaction at the way the two fingers had jammed all the way to the bases.
The sharp pain of the earlier strokes had been replaced with a dull ache that spread from her anus to the whole of Susie's fatigued body. Her rectal cavity was snug around the stiff muscle, and she was pressing her clit up against the bed. She wanted him to shoot the cream; she knew his ejaculation would be enough to give her an orgasm, to build the pleasure inside her clit into a climax that would break through her body like a gunshot.
Donna was throwing her body forward as though she were performing a ritual dance, some sacrifice to a tribal god. Her hand was open now, and it was the palm that was massaging the clitoris and the twat-lips. Her other arm seemed to be flailing at the erect tits, and her breathing was loud and erotic. For the first time, she had turned her attention to her husband's activities with Susie. She looked at Bruce's face, contorted with the difficulty of penetrating four inches up the slot. "Cornhole her, Bruce," she said softly, in her most seductive voice-at once coarse and demure-as though the performance were neither for Bruce or Susie, but for her own pleasure.
He was all the way inside of Susie when the first wave came. The penis moved in a single spasm, and the lava flew off up into her bowels. Susie's eyes widened; she could hardly believe the intensity of the sensation, in which pleasure was mingled so closely with pain. She saw in a brilliant image the excited look on Donna's face as she watched her husband attains satisfaction "Uh ... ere ...!" Susie groaned. He didn't move the stick back at all, but only deeper and deeper with each new emission of foam.
At last he was through, and his whole body collapsed upon her, just when she felt weakest. Donna was no help, because she had fingered herself into an orgasm that was making the whole bed move. The vibration seemed to push Bruce's spent cock even further up Susie. Donna's mouth was half open, but her tongue was curled behind her teeth. Her eyes were shut, but the position of her eyebrows indicated ecstasy.
CHAPTER NINE
She had met Vaughn Simpson only once but she looked forward to working with him, as Libby Talma so charmingly put it. Mrs. Talma had taken to calling her into her office almost every day for discussions on patients. Almost every time she would present the files of future patients for study before the interviews. Rather like Mission: Impossible, thought Susie, but without the tape recorder. She wondered about Libby; the co-director of the Clinic repeatedly urged her to call her by her first name. Was her interest in Susie more than professional? Susie suspected her of having an affair with Chiver-she doubted whether any man not in love could be so under a female colleague's thumb. And yet Libby's eyes seemed entranced by Susie's body. Her stare dwelled on her legs or on the curve of a hipbone. Susie found herself being constantly complimented on her shade of lipstick, brand of perfume, style of clothing.
The story was due at the magazine in less than two weeks. Of course, she could never use any vaguely libelous material about Chiver and Talma, but she might gain insight into their ideas-insight that would find its way into the piece-if she let herself be seduced by one or the other ... or both!
The day before, she had lunched with Vaughn in a diner down the road. His manner was so diffident and unassertive that she had wondered about his much-vaunted skill as a professional lover-a skill that was legendary in the corridors of the Clinic. His "cute rate" was extraordinary, better than fifty percent over-all. She wondered what her own would be; of course, she'd never know because she would be quitting her job before any conclusions could be drawn about her efficiency.
The patient with whom they were to work was a twenty-year-old college dropout named Sandy, whose sexual history, after an aborted pregnancy in her seventeenth year, had been exclusively homosexual. She had been in psychiatric therapy for over a year, and she had volunteered to participate in this test of her progress: a bisexual troilistic encounter. Susie was to spend an hour alone with the girl, whereupon they would be interrupted by Vaughn. Vaughn had been chosen for the assignment because of his success with difficult cases-and because his pale, thin body did not present him as too macho to most homosexual women.
Susie waited in her "apartment," dressed in the short linen nightie. The room was warm, and the heater still throbbed. In a fit of bureaucratic extravagance, a small stereo had been added to the room's appointments, and Susie had her own albums to play during lovemaking. Waiting, she put a stack of LP's on the turntable, the first of which was a Carole King record. The last two albums were Rolling Stones-"good fucking music" an old boyfriend had once described it.
She rose immediately at the timid knock on the door.
Sandy's hair was a bright orange-red; she would have assumed it dyed except for the girl's over-all peach complexion. There would, she realized, be a sure way of finding out ...
The girl's breasts seemed rounded under her busy-print dress, but they were definitely enclosed in a brassiere. The dress was short, and Susie glanced at the way the stick-thin calves moved up to slightly chubbier thighs. The girl's green eyes sparkled, but the way she carried her body as she walked to the sofa seemed stiff.
Susie introduced herself, and the girl smiled.
"Are you nervous?" she asked Sandy, but the redhead said she wasn't.
She followed the denial with a question of her own, which seemed intended to put the lie once and for all to the first question. "Do you want to get started?"
Susie, taken aback, nodded and rose from the couch. She moved slowly toward the bed and watched Sandy kick off her shoes.
The girl raised her leg, resting the naked sole on the edge of the coffee table. She rolled a garter down her leg, and with it a tan skin of nylon stockings. She cast these onto the floor, then repeated the maneuver with her other leg.
She pulled her dress up almost to her waist. Through white cotton panties Susie could see the patch of bright red pubic hair at her vortex. The girl's thumbs hooked under the elastic waistband and pulled the garment down over then past her snatch-curls. The undies fell down her thighs, and she stepped out of them, letting the dress fall back into place, slightly creased.
She walked toward the bed and sighed; the breasts rustled under the dress fabric. Susie felt a rush of desire; had she not been lying down in bed, the intensity of the sensation would have made her feel dizzy and lose her balance. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Sandy; her fingers dug into Sandy's back, and she was holding her as tightly as she could.
The girl, standing over her, raised on knee to the bed and then pressed her lips wetly against Susie's mouth. The therapist thought the girl's lipstick tasted like candy. She ground her lower teeth against Sandy's lower lip, and Susie thought she could hear a low whimper deep ill the redhead's throat.
The zipper went down its track easily. Susie peeled the dress over Sandy's shoulders. She kept her eyes open; she liked watching the way the young girl closed her own lids, the way her facial muscles relaxed-as though she were dreaming. Susie loosened the hooks of the bra. Relieved, Sandy let herself down against Susie's chest, wiggling the loosened jugs between layers of bra, dress, and Susie's linen gown.
The therapist ran her fingers over the girl's naked back. They seemed to melt into Sandy's perfect flesh; the twenty-year-old bit into her lower lip when Susie's fingertips pushed in at the small of her back. She shifted her stomach and seemed to drive her body closer to her partner. Susie for a moment, imagined Sandy as a child frightened by the dark, clinging to her mother for protection.
Sandy kissed awkwardly; her tonguing was sloppy, her lips pressed over Susie's without moving. She seemed, also, to salivate heavily. She was passive: Susie had to move her arms out of the dress as though she were undressing a five-year-old.
The reward was worth the trouble. Sandy had rounded melon tits with nipples the size of half-dollars. Not the central point, but the areola all around it, was erected, and Susie had only to pass the flat of her index finger over each to make them awake. It was as though she were testing them; and they passed the test. The low moan coming from Sandy's throat had changed into a lambish bleat, as if Susie's fingers, touching her stiffening tits, were causing her the most extreme pain. But when the therapist's hand passed lower, under the jugs, to knead the flesh of her diaphragm, she grabbed hold of Susie's wrist and made her go higher, made her rub the tits faster and harder. They seemed to swell with the touch and grow warm with blood.
Susie found herself becoming more sexually aggressive than she had even been before-with men or women. Sandy was like pulp in her hands as she pushed the young girl to the bed and continued to play with the rounded boobs. With her left hand on the right jug, she put her mouth to the other tit. The sounds were wet as she pulled in and suckled the teat. Sandy stretched her arms and threw them back, enjoying the feel of Susie's warm mouth as it bathed the nipple.
Susie scratched Sandy's stomach raw. She wanted to tease the girl until she'd spread her legs apart, hoist her pud and beg for Susie to go down on her-beg Susie to stick anything up her wet and empty snatch. Sandy rolled her body under the clawing fingernails, but her thighs slammed together and covered her opening. Susie pushed down and jammed the side of her hands up against the cleft, teasing the button while Sandy groaned and licked her lips.
Susie couldn't believe how hot she was getting. She brushed several fingertips over her slash and was surprised at the clammy wetness. She opened her palms and made circles over the sharp-titled breasts, while she bent down and took love-bites out of Sandy's belly. She could smell the girl's vagina below. The odor, a deep fragrant musk, seemed to come from far inside. Her own breasts moved into the curly bush hair, and her own tit passed through the slickened labia.
Her fingers moved to the sides of Sandy's breasts, and she touched the armpits. They were clean of hair, but were sweating profusely. She scratched them and the perspiration seeped under the finger-nails; it felt like being caught in a summer rain. Sandy shifted her body from side to side, turning on her rump, urging Susie to bring her mouth lower. Her own hands were rubbing the sheets as though the rules of the game were that she not touch her partner.
Susie instinctively decided to deny her for yet a moment more. Her tongue grazed the indentation between thigh and pelvis, salty but smooth. The touch of her tongue was so light that she was surprised that Sandy felt it. That the girl did was made clear when she grunted in pain and lifted her ass up off the bed as though she were being levitated. She was a puppet on the single string of Susie's thin tongue.
Where the tongue had gone, now the edges of the therapist's lower teeth passed, and a cry that was almost a whistle pierced the older woman's ears. Mouth innocently closed, her lips passed over the belly between the navel and the vagina.
She held Sandy's legs locked in an embrace. She tickled the undersides of the girl's knees with her fingertips, and then she pressed and scratched at the backs of the calves while Sandy pressed her soles into the bed-and her ass again rose. She made an invisible circle with her tongue on the inside of Sandy's thigh. Sandy giggled, and Susie repeated the circle in the hollow of the opposite thigh. A thin stream of urine passed from the tiny slit, and Sandy jumped up to see what she herself had done; it was a curiosity of her own body.
Susie was not to be distracted. She ran the back of her hand over the pubic area, smoothing the dampness out. Easily satisfied, she put her mouth to the quim and pushed her tongue between the walls. "Oooh ... I Oh ... I" The grunted exclamations became shorter. The single syllables seemed to curve at their conclusions-gaining in this way a curiously foreign sound as they came, guttural, from Sandy's dry throat.
The flats of her forefingers moved up and down the labia while her tongue wiggled just inside the cavity. Her nose wrinkled with the combinations of the deep hormonal smell of the pussy and the ammonia-odor of the spent pee. She drew her lips over her teeth and sucked in on the clitoris; an ecstatic moan, like delicate music, was Sandy's response-but Susie noticed that the girl's whole body had jolted almost a foot up the bed.
Now her hands tried to control the St. Vitus' dance of the body. She grasped Sandy's buttocks and wrinkled them with her long fingernails. She pulled the cheeks apart until the girl groaned with the tearing at the base of her spine. She lowered her tongue between the legs and moved the tip over the asshole. The lower body swiveled, almost snapping, and Sandy moved further up the bed.
When Susie had begun to slow down, wanting to draw the cunnilingus out, she realized that the knocking sound she heard was the brush of Sandy's skull against the wall. She tried to ignore it, and she ran the tips of her fingers into the hollows of the deep-pink thighs. Sandy's legs strained further apart as if in a balletic split. Susie moved her mouth up and down between rectum and cunt, the way a child licks an all-day lollipop.
Susie was stiff, and her own perspiration was making her hot. She stretched her body and lay at Sandy's side. The girl was almost oblivious to the change in position. Susie kept her finger drilled to the clitoris and Sandy pushed up against it, moving her legs up and down, apart and together, around the therapist's hand. Susie punctured the hole with a single finger-the index-and the walls parted as she pushed it in to the base. The third finger rubbed uselessly against the curve of the girl's buttocks, and so Susie decided to shove it inside the ging.
She was leaning on her elbow and if, in her own state of excitement, she could have formulated a wish, it would have been that Sandy help her by holding one cheek to the side so she could shove the digit deep within the posterior hole. The girl, however, was helpless, so she rolled her fingertip over the asshole as she might move a thumbtack into plaster. She rested for a moment when she had both fingers in their separate cavities; her whole hand ached, and the fingers especially. But Sandy's body urged her on: she wasn't milking the girl with her fingers, the girl was milking her fingers with the inside of her body ...
The steady sound of tapping on the wall-plaster had become a rhythmic, dull thud. Sandy's face showed signs of spiritual transformation; all reason, all sense of time and place, had been pushed out by the convulsions the twin fingering had caused. Her skull rolled on her neck, and the top of her head slammed the wall. She seemed, with her mouth half open, unaware of the pain, but Susie couldn't help but wince. Her make-up had begun to smear, particularly the mascara, with the sweat that was diluting it. Her body rose up to Susie's fingers, pushing inside the holes at the same moment with the same movement. Sandy inhaled them. Her body relaxed on the counterstroke, pretending to give them up, but in the next second it had sucked them in again. The anal cavity seemed to Susie to be growing bigger, looser, easier to finger-fuck, while the pussy was tighter and harder to separate. The lines of washed-out make-up reminded Susie of a modern Magdalene-of Irish parentage.
Susie was on her side, and for a moment she considered rolling to the other side of Sandy's body, because her hand felt like it would fall off. Still, the satisfaction of watching the girl in paroxysms of sexual heat made her go on-to see how turned on she could be before she would climax. She was already in a trance.
Susie raised her leg over Sandy's thigh. She tried to bring her cunt in against the leg, but she gave up; there wasn't enough pressure, and the girl couldn't give her any help. She pressed her cunt against Sandy's shoulder, then tried kissing her.
It was like kissing a corpse. Her tongue slid past the lips, and she was amazed at the feel. She moved her own lips back and forth to spread the moisture, but the inside of her own mouth was just as dry as Sandy's. She was a little repulsed and drew back, not without a tingle of fear at the intensity of Sandy's passion-the passion she had caused with the two fingers moving, steadily and without special imagination, up the vagina and asshole in the same stroke, stroke after stroke.
She touched her ear with her tongue, and Sandy moved to face her. But her green eyes were glazed, and it was like visiting a friend still in a coma. Excited by her own power, she dug her fingers even deeper inside the quim and the anus. Sandy squirmed and groaned as if she were being beaten instead of finger-fucked.
At last, when she made her backward movements, Sandy's body simply refused to give her up. Both holes slipped right down the bones like the snapping mouths of deep-throated reptiles. She shoved herself on them as though they were her possessions, which they now seemed to be-even to Susie. She felt her hand owned by the girl's pumping body.
Sandy slammed her head against the wall. Susie's whole body was tense lest she crack the skull open, but for a moment she was oblivious even to the harm she could cause herself; her body had become a machine and there were no categories for pleasure or pain. Susie pushed the fingers back inside the warm coves with such force that she realized the penetration was more and more like rape with each stroke. When they were inside, they could almost-it seemed-touch.
She inhaled Sandy's right tit into her mouth and rubbed the nipple against the roof, grinding her teeth over the cream-pink breast. As her fingers had hypnotized the girl, Sandy's two holes had hypnotized her. Only when she touched the breast with her mouth was the trance broken. The only way she could drive Sandy from the precipice into the orgasm itself was to move faster. That was hard; her arm was so tired that just the thought of pushing faster made the blood rush to her heart with force. But she took a strange kind of pity on the girl whose body seemed destined to lie there forever, bobbing up to consume again and again her pumping fingers. It was the myth of Tantalus come true: her orgasm would forever be out of reach if Susie did not satisfy her, did not deliver her. She could not deliver herself.
Blood raced through Susie's arm as if it had been freed from arteries and veins, as though just flowing inside the tensed muscle. She pushed both fingers inside, and she was "hitting" Sandy, attacking her. A yelp announced the start of orgasm: the pelvis undulated and the rump smashed the mattress into a symphony of weird and ugly wheezes, while her throat rasped out cries of orgasm. Susie's fingers were wet from the inside of her; even the ass had become a slippery funnel, juiced and limitless, a pit with the other side of the sky as its bottom.
When it was over, when Sandy's body rose and fell only with her breathing, which, after a minute or so, became softer and more even, still Susie could not pull the two digits from their tunnels. They were numb with the sweat and the lubrication; each inch had memorized the texture of the hole it had plowed. Finally Sandy pushed her body up, holding her own breasts down with her palms so that they didn't bounce, and in this way she expelled Susie from her. The air hit her fingertips like a sting.
She looked into Sandy's face. She wouldn't have admitted it to herself, but what she had expected to see was gratitude. Instead she saw dull and complacent eyes staring at the ceiling. The mouth was curved into the start of a grin, but the smile could only have been described as self-satisfied. A wave of disgust passed through Susie, but she rejected it because she realized she would need Sandy to get herself off. And right now, in envy of the pleasure Sandy had received, she wanted the girl to help her come.
She waited another minute or so, hoping the girl would return the affection she had taken. She did not. She seemed to Susie to be waiting for a prop, perhaps the traditional post-coital cigarette. Her breathing was normal now, and so the older woman decided to give the younger a more obvious clue or, perhaps, an incentive.
She got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. When she returned a moment later, she was carrying in her hand a six-inch plastic dildo, entrapped in an elastic waistband. She stood at the foot of the bed while Sandy eyed it. But the girl was surprised when Susie, separating her legs for her, started to push the garment and its attachment up her long legs.
The instrument stood out at erect attention from the copper-colored pubic hairs, almost covering the glistening twat. The labia still bordered it at points-distractingly, Susie thought. Sandy looked perfectly ridiculous-with the accent on perfectly. She was a huge-pricked, big-boobed redhead with a beautiful face-green eyes, deep red-pink lips, and an aquiline nose.
Sandy raised her hips almost grudgingly when Susie's hands rolled the straps up her rounded, naked buttocks. She seemed detached as her therapist straddled her legs and wobbled toward the plastic stump, pulling it-toward her. Susie rubbed the bulb at the top of the shaft against her labia, and she brought her- clit down on the exact center of the dome. Breathing in deeply, she sat down on it. She smiled as though a hunger had been filled when five or so inches passed into her snatch, stretching the sides of the hole into a near-perfect circle.
The moist cunt-muscle hugged the dildo, and she ground her lower body around it, feeling the hunk touch all of the twat-tissue as it moved toward the womb.
Sandy did not move her hips, did not push up and try to drown the cock inside of Susie. She lay there as if daring her older partner to obtain a climax. For Susie it became like psychological warfare. The girl's lips were pursed together, and she did not smile. But when the therapist's fingers stroked teasingly at the outsides of the redhead's spreading hips, she could feel the response within her pussy. She was no longer just dipping her box down on the erection. It had a life of its own which she accentuated when she cupped her hands on Sandy's boobs. She squeezed them until the tits became sharp and tickled the insides of her palms.
Susie understood how little control Sandy had over her body- She moved it as though possessed. She made fun of the patient, indirectly and without Sandy's knowing it, when she herself began to wipe her tongue over her lips in imitation of violent, lewd passion.
One hand still on a ripe melon-breast, she used her other palm to massage her own belly as she slid up and down the dildo; her sexual lubrication oiled the way nicely. When she had come all the way down, she twisted on the rod and let her pubic hair tangle into Sandy's lighter weeds. As she pushed up, she reached below and tickled the girl's clit with her finger, rubbing the small fragment of flesh bark against the hair and skin. This drove the younger woman wild, and a half-dozen strokes later she was a whimpering, clawing mass of flesh. Now she reached up to Susie and grabbed the therapist's free-swinging breasts. Animal sounds struggled from her throat and seemed to hesitate on her lips.
Her excitement didn't, however, have anything to do with her skill, which was limited. Susie realized painfully that Sandy couldn't move her stomach and hips in a way that would satisfy either of them. It was all her work, but the dilations inside her cunt were already hinting at an orgasm and the gaping hole kept swallowing the prick each time it threatened to relinquish it. Her strokes became less elaborate-there were fewer twistings and turnings-and instead became more simple, even blunt At last, she was crudely bumping her pussy down on the slab of plastic, and the tingling in her stomach grew more intense each time it was buried. The sides of the hole wrapped themselves around it tighter than before, and she was moving so fast that Sandy saw her as a blur of large breasts and flat stomach.
Sandy had grabbed the shaft at the base and was pulling on the instrument, rubbing it over her clitoris while Susie tried to smash all the way down on it.
The therapist was so wet, in those final strokes, that she pushed up off the plastic head. She arched her spine and ran her pud on the underside of the tool before she caught her breath, grabbed it, and aimed it at the waiting lips. She was so well lubricated that the fake penis passed through the coot-flaps without any resistance. Susie sighed easily and moaned softly as she pressed her own walls together around the object.
She leaned forward, first supporting her weight on her palms, but she slid helplessly down on Sandy's prostrate body, pinning her beneath her breasts. The tits just missed each other as the dick, implanted to full penetration inside the therapist's hole, twitched again and again between the walls, making her come. The twitching was even more intense during the last waves, for it was caused by the movement of Sandy's hand as she manipulated her own soggy pleasure-button. While Susie's body was sputtering to a halt, the ripe girl beneath her was still squirming out the rhythm of her own climax-climax that seemed to last forever, Susie thought, hazily but enviously.
She wanted nothing more than to raise up off the dildo as soon as he recovered her breath-and she did. The instrument gleamed with her fluids; it seemed strange, pointing stiff and upwards, undeflated, while the rest of Sandy's body was limp and tired.
The two women rested in silence until they heard a knock on the door. Susie started to get up off the bed and go to answer, but Vaughn walked in without waiting. He looked at both women, but most closely at Sandy, who was a stranger to him. He seemed to like what he saw.
He came to the bed and kneeled. He glanced at the girl as if he were a father fucking his daughter in for sleep. There was something-everything-timid about him. Sandy, Susie noted, was responding well; she rewarded him with a spontaneous smile-more than rare in the last hour-as he softly passed his open hand over her belly. The stomach was not flat, but rose in a small curve rather like a pout.
He lifted his hand and pressed only the fingertips down. Sandy giggled. He moved the fingers up and down, playing the piano on the flesh below her navel. She drew her legs up, bending them at the knees, and then spread her thighs wide. He made her wait only a moment before passing lower and rubbing the twat-lips with the flats of four fingers at once.
He was crouched on his toes, but he didn't seem to mind. He lowered his head to Sandy's belly, but there was little that was clearly erotic in the way he kissed her. His lips were pressed shut, and he seemed to be delighting in her smell. Appreciatively, Sandy ran her fingers through his hair. Delicately, he pushed his other hand up against her beasts' underside. The one jug, propped up, appeared bigger and wider than its companion. She looked down at it, pleased by the trick he had performed. A further reward was the way the nipple and areola hardened.
He rose to his full height gracefully. He had a certain dignity in the way he carried his body. Susie could feel the drama in the room; even the insolent twenty-year-old sensed his command, his aura of quiet authority. Susie herself surprised; at lunch, even in the first few moments, as he made subtle love to Sandy's stomach and breast, he had seemed meek. Suddenly she understood and grinned inwardly; he was sneaky-he surprised women with his strength after he had demonstrated his gentleness.
Both women watched as he undressed. He loosened his collar and accomplished the male equivalent of a striptease as he slowly and even suspensefully undid the row of simple buttons. He appeared to hesitate just before pulling the cotton away from the button, then grudgingly proceeded.
His cock was so big that its outline could be guessed at even under the loose-fitting, silk boxer shorts. Standing in his underwear without a T-shirt in bare feet, he looked like a bantam-weight fighter. Staring at the drapery, he casually stepped out of the trunks. His penis dangled six inches, thick and limp, from the bottom of his coarse-haired belly.
Susie leaned over and opened her mouth wide over Sandy's breasts. The girl stiffened, but then relaxed as Susie sucked the areola softly. The oral message was slow and soothing. A new tension filled her body though, when Vaughn stood before them both. Reminding Susie of a snake dancer, he stood smiling as his cock twitched itself to full erection.
When it was stiff, he turned his wrist and moved his cupped palm under it, stopping just before the hand could brush the glans. He pressed his forefinger to the covering skin just below the bulbous head, and the tissue moved a little on the long shaft. His thumb curled over the curved side of the phallus, and he bumped his knees into the bed.
"Touch me," he said, and Sandy raised her hand. She gripped the dong and squeezed out a single drop of thick sperm. "You too, Susie," he said admonishing his fellow therapist. The older of the two women then ran her fingers through the wrinkled skin of the scrotum. The balls bounced under the pressure of her touch, and she pushed the hard root of .the penis. Vaughn did not blink an eyelid, but waited there, knees drilled to the side of the mattress, until he was satisfied with the homage both girls paid to the cock.
He rolled his palms over Sandy's shoulder, and nearly pushed her down when he fell forward. His right leg moved automatically, stroking with its sole the outside of Susie's thigh. He was grabbing out at random with his right hand, and Susie liked the way his fingers bit down, firmly but not painfully, on her breast. She squeezed his wrist with her thumb and forefinger, and his fingertips danced over the brown areola.
Susie was growing hot, but she assumed most of Vaughn's attention would be centered on Sandy. She could not resist the impulse to wipe her sloppy cleft with the side of her hand, jamming a sharp knuckle down on the clitoris, which sprang up a tiny bit more with each rub, until her whole pelvis was swimming with blood.
Both her hands began to work the pud, drawing from the walls a thin film of lubrication. She dipped just inside the pussy and spread the juice over the outside folds. She oiled the whole terrain of curly beaver hair; as her hips pumped the bed, she brought her fingertips to her nose for one second and sniffed herself.
She had been wrong, though, about the way Vaughn would use them. She sensed movement toward her on the mattress and opened her eyes to see that Sandy had rolled over to face her. "Eat her, Sandy," Vaughn whispered, his throat raw and evil-sounding.
Sandy crawled down the bed and, with Susie's cooperation, spread Susie's thighs open on the wound. The moisture surprised her. Her tongue wagged over the clitoris with an enthusiasm that surprised Susie; she was certain the energy was the result of Vaughn's intervention. It was like a sharp nail being driven in her cunt to feel Sandy's soft tongue pass over that clitoris and then beat it back against the raw folds of flesh. "Stick your fingers up her snatch," the male therapist said; his legs were spread wide and he seemed to be "riding" her naked back, his stiff penis under him like a saddle. He whispered the words into the girl's ear, twisting his lips against her neck. He reached behind him-egging on his horse-and shot three fingers inside Sandy's crack.
This time it was not just the lips, nor the tongue, but the whole mouth that charged over the hole instead. The sides of the aperture changed shape with the assault, and the vagina sucked Sandy's mouth inside. The redhead's face was like a child's pressed against a bakery window.
Vaughn rose off the young girl's back and sidled down until his frame was even with her back. Susie looked down and saw him take both of Sandy's cheeks in his hands and spread them wide. He was bucking his hips as he tried to plant his cock between. He jolted forward, and a meek little groan from Sandy's mouth did not say whether the girl wanted him to fuck her an ally, or whether she wished him to stop. It was clear as she continued to perform cunnilingus on the therapist, that she would not object forcefully enough to dislodge him. One grunt was so eloquent that Susie knew it was the stroke that had penetrated her. When he had forced even more of the prick inside, in subsequent thrusts, Sandy's tone was almost birdlike, longing half-notes as the early dog-water smeared itself off on the interior of the bung-hole.
Sandy's entire face was working on Susie's sopping-wet beaver. The tongue circled the hole, flickering the clitoris, while the lips bore down hard and distended the opening. Her fingertips were combing the sweaty hair and occasionally they slid into the hole itself. Susie grabbed one hand and made her play with her breasts. The girl scratched the jug and pinched the areola, teasing it to a painful throbbing erection.
Vaughn was half inside Sandy when he pushed his fingers down inside her quim, testing the moisture. He twisted them inside the ring of flesh and pulled them out wet. He rubbed the moisture against the flattened side of his prick and pushed in deeper than before. He sighed as the dry flesh of the anal cavity pressed on the prick and made him feel the moisture he'd applied. He sucked in Sandy's ear, and her stomach pressed against the mattress. The ear was the crucial zone; when he tongued there, her whole body jumped. He stuck his index finger inside her cunt and probed her steadily. To Vaughn she had that peculiar smell of women when they are being stroked in the twin cavities. It was the scent of a woman's insides being turned out. At orgasm they would spring back within-sucking, drawing, eating his finger and his prick, reclaiming her body for her own. For the moment, though, he could poke her and fill her with himself, and she was helpless to do anything but writhe, with her stomach on the bed and her chubby rump jiggling under his belly.
The thought of what her face would look like when she was coming excited him, made the blood pump fast through his diaphragm and stomach. He rubbed his wet lips up and down her ear and forced her head against the bed so he could watch, by her profile, the forms that her pleasure would take. She squeezed her eyes shut as he plunged deep inside her anus, and sucked her lower lip between her teeth when he pulled an inch or two out. Spittle was draining from the comers of her mouth, and she broke the single unending moan rhythmically with snorts as he shoved the poker to full penetration and kept it there for half a beat, every other stroke.
The come broke out of the slit so hot that even as he climaxed he knew it; it felt like burning piss. But he surged up and down the small .cavity until he was drained, and he didn't let himself be distracted by the way Susie urged Sandy's mouth to go on. "Suck ... ! Yeah ... ! Suck ... ! Suck ... !" The words were clipped; each time she spit the syllable out, a new undulation would fill her twat and her hips and pelvis swung out again. In the last strokes, Sandy's mouth just rested on the pud, and she let herself be taken by the cock driving up her asshole. Susie pushed her butt into the bed and tried to rub the external genitalia over the slack surface of Sandy's mouth. Even as she came, she was completely conscious of how to manipulate her orgasm for her greatest pleasure; she was masturbating, jacking-off, with the use of Sandy's lips.
Vaughn was dead-tired, but in a single spasm of will he arched his spine and pulled his prick from the girl's rectum. The walls of the tight hole sprang closed the second the bulb pulled out. The lining was washed with the warm semen, and the hole felt raw.
"There's this therapy we have," he said, pausing between each word for breath, "and we call it-it's a kind of game-Empathy." He looked at her, and she was staring back, blank and unperturbed. "Would you like to play?"
"How do you play?"
He flashed a grin at Susie, who was guessing which form the game would take. "Did you use the dildo already?" he asked his colleague, who nodded. She reached down off the bed and brought the fake cock out from where it was hidden under the coverlet. It was dry now, but it still smelled of her insides. Vaughn pressed the head to his mouth and inhaled deeply on the odor. "That's nice," he said. "Who fucked whom?" He looked from face to face as though to elicit the confession by moral force. "She tucked me" Susie said.
"Good. Then you've-" He paused as he stared deep inside the green pools, over which the lids blinked repeatedly. "You've had a little practice in what it feels like to be a man. That's what the game is. Empathy! Now, what I want you to do, is pretend you're a male homosexual and violate me from behind. Stick this thing-" He hoisted it up in the air like a torch. "-up my ass. You can strap it above your hole, so Susie can lean in from behind and give you head while you're com-holing me. Understand?"
The girl seemed in awe of the elaborate request. He handed her the attachment. She bent her legs at the knees, raised one foot at a time and then, lifting herself off the bed as she arched her spine, she pulled the cock and strap up her hips and onto her small belly.
Vaughn gestured for the two women to move away from each other, and he spread out on his stomach between them. Susie thought his muscular ass looked inviting at the top of his sprawled limbs. Sandy hesitated, but she was goaded into action when Vaughn asked her if anything was wrong. "Oh, no," she muttered in a little-girl voice and put her body against his. The cock stuck between his thighs and started to rub inefficiently. "Stick it in," he said in a soft voice, rather exasperated, so Susie held one cheek while the girl screwed the end of the plastic dong inside the reluctant bung-hole.
Susie looked at his face; she was surprised that he seemed to be in genuine pain. But, gritting his teeth, he said "Good, good!" when Sandy shoved the prick further and deeper. He was sweating, and when she jammed the first few inches inside at one stroke, he sighed deeply. After that he was easier, and within a dozen strokes he was pushing his rump up against her belly, trying to signal her that she could penetrate even deeper. His arms reached behind and grabbed her butt-cheeks. The touch of his sweaty fingers on the girl's naked flesh did more than any subtle hints could; she began to ride him like a bucking bronco, and Vaughn appeared to like it, grunting to punctuate each stroke.
Susie moved to the foot of the bed on her knees. She stared at the hanging flaps of the pinkish slot. She put her hand against the hole, but her touch was tentative. Heat seemed to steam out of the girl's pussy. She rubbed the labia until the flats of her fingers slid with the grease that lubricated them. Her other hand massaged the sweaty small of Sandy's back; she could detect the strain of movement as it coursed up the girl's spine. "Suck me," Sandy told her without emotion, and Susie's fingers slid up to the anus while she bowed her mouth to the pit. She sucked in the external folds of the snatch, and Sandy pushed down on her tongue. She could feel the clit growing, but she didn't move the tongue's tip, just kept it close over the button.
The younger woman's body started to slide against her mouth. The beaver was so wet that the clit kept slipping from her lips. The faster she sucked, the more violent were the strokes Sandy applied to Vaughn's asshole. The man's stomach moved imperceptibly up and down against the bed, and his own cock was ready to spurt from the subtle friction. He pushed up, throwing his ass into Sandy's pumping stomach, and he placed his hand under his penis. He rubbed his fingers up and down the shaft as she fucked him, stretching the anal cavity wide and gorging him with the thickness of the plastic shaft. The glue sputtered out the slit and he went limp as Sandy pushed in regularly. Susie, her head close to both their crotches, smelled the sticky cream and pulled m hard on Sandy's beaver-flaps.
The girl came, making the last strokes of the dildo wild and twisting. Slowly her rhythm became uneven and died.
CHAPTER TEN
Susie had been sitting in front of the typewriter all morning pausing only briefly to peruse the Sunday funnies. She was dressed in a loose-fitting housecoat with nothing on beneath, and she felt sloppy and unkempt.
Ever since she had begun to write professionally, she had been careful to keep day-by-day notes on projects and assignments. She had no memory and if she didn't write an experience or a phrase down .on paper as it happened or occurred, it was lost forever, So she was grateful to this persistence for the fifty-odd pages of typewritten notes she had accumulated since beginning her two jobs-her "real" employment as a magazine writer, and her "camouflage" job as a sex-therapist at the Clinic.
Before she had spent an hour on the proposed outline of the article, she realized that she could do two versions. One, the length of a book, could tell the whole, unadulterated truth about the Clinic-perhaps it could even be told in novel form. But the other, the struggle of the moment and the reason for the task in the first place, was harder to accomplish. What to tell? And what to leave out? The gentle housewifely readers of Woman could hardly be expected to swallow whole the story of what really was going on inside "the nation's leading sex laboratory," or "the successor Kinsey," as a national new weekly called it.
Besides, Chiver and Talma were in the process of becoming cultural heroes to the women's liberation groups, who found their studies on the nature of female orgasm direct proof of their own precepts. With the clitoral orgasm-if the origin of every orgasm was in the clitoris-that would half eliminate a woman's sexual dependence on the male's penis. The idea of a "vaginal orgasm," currently outdated, made digital massage of the vaginal area a poor second to actual penetration. The restoration of the woman's sexual independence among other things, the ability to satisfy oneself through masturbation, as did the male-was welcome to these ladies.
Susie had called Tony at home. He spoke to her soothingly because, with his hangover, loud talk was painful. She had wakened him and she was sorry; still, she felt panicked. She had two more weeks before the story should be sent to the printers. In any case the editing of the text would be down to the wire.
"All you have to do is get a peg. Do you have a peg?" A "peg", in editorial terminology, was the central idea that tied all the information in an article together. Sometimes it was the point the writer was trying to prove, often it was just an approach, like one that tied a certain phenomenon to the other phenomena that at first appeared totally unlike it.
"No, nothing at all," she confessed.
"Well, listen, I've got to go to sleep. You call tonight or tomorrow. Try to think of something." He paused, thinking. "How well do you know them?"
"Who? Talma and Chiver?"
"Yeah. "
"We can't do any expose stuff. How would we prove it?"
"Not personal stuff. Ask them what they're doing, what they think they're doing, what they're trying to prove." She agreed, but as soon as she hung up the phone she was glad that the story would be written by the anonymous "Miss M." She had decided on that after her first week at the Clinic. Even without going into the more sordid details, it was clear that she would be telling far too much about herself. And what she would have to tell would be painful to her parents and even disgraceful to the rest of the Giver family.
She responded eagerly to Libby Talma's invitation for dinner. "Just so we can chat, y' know-girl talk. I don't get to see enough of you at the Clinic, what with our both-" here she giggled-"working so hard."
Susie was napping in her small apartment at the Clinic when five o'clock came. She had had an exhausting day. She rose sleepily and opened the door. In the first moment she was surprised to see Mrs. Talma there, but then she remembered about dinner. "I just wondered if you needed a ride."
"Oh, that would be fine," Susie answered, "'cause I took the bus today."
"Oh, good," the older woman smiled with genuine pleasure. Susie wondered whether the matronish researcher was attracted to her for her body or out of loneliness for companionship. Well, she thought, I'll find out soon enough.
Once they seated themselves in Libby's small compact car, the driver mentioned that Dr. Chiver "might drop in a little later, just to say hello."
That brought up a subject of more than mild curiosity. Susie couldn't ask her outright if her relations with Dr. Chiver were more than platonic, but she could edge toward a question and let the lady volunteer if she wished.
"How long have you known Dr. Chiver?" She affected a tone of complete innocence, and apparently Libby Talma suspected nothing, for she answered without thinking.
"About ten years." She paused, and Susie was surprised and delighted when she went on.
"The Clinic was Dr. Chiver's idea. He hired me as a secretary. I have a bachelor's degree in psychology, and he thought that would be useful in the office. I have no medical degree, but I gradually grew more and more important to him in the day-to-day administration of business."
Susie wondered how personal that dependence was. "Dr. Chiver seems like a wonderful man," she said, hoping to elicit a revealing testimonial to the man from his partner.
"Yes, he truly is," Libby answered without missing a beat, but without great feeling as well. "He is the guiding genius of the research activities. I tend to be a better administrator-I think women always are, don't you?"
Susie nodded, smiling, although she wasn't that sure she agreed. She didn't, in any case, want to interrupt the flow of valuable information.
"I'll bet I know what you're thinking," Libby Talma said as she turned her car into a quiet suburban street.
"Huh?" Susie certainly hoped she didn't.
"You're wondering why Dr. Chiver directed your activities at first."
"Well, not really-though I did wonder why you seemed to take over a couple of weeks ago."
Mrs. Talma jerked the wheel and the car glided up into a open garage. She turned off the purring engine and looked straight at Susie. There was, in that garage, in the intimate space of the automobile, an eerie feeling of almost oppressive privacy. "What would you say," she began her tone confidential, "if I told you that the doctor and I some times compete-you know what I mean-for the attention of our co-workers?"
Susie was all too sure of what she meant, and therefore it was easy to conceal surprise and simply nod-though she was amazed, rather, at the candid way Mrs. Talma had brought the matter into the open.
"I see I was right about you."
"Right?" Susie was playing straight-man; the conversation had gone just where she had hoped it would-and more quickly than she'd expected. She felt like bolding on to her advantage.
"Yes, you're not shocked." She reached down into her purse for a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Susie, who declined, then lit one for herself. She inhaled, then continued. "You see, some of our therapists tend to put us on a pedestal. They tend to think of us as parent-substitutes, and you know how hard it is for people to realize that their parents, as little children say, do it."
Susie laughed; this was the first sign of the woman's sense of humor. "No," she said, shaking her head just a little. Her hair brushed against her shoulders, and she ran her tongue tip over the center of her upper lip, then pulled it back. "No, I'm not shocked at all."
She raised her head and stared into Libby's eyes. The woman had removed her glasses and though her naked face was not beautiful-probably never had been-she looked softer. Susie had never made love to a woman much older than herself; she found herself looking forward to the prospect.
"And Dr. Chiver? You said he might drop over tonight. "
"I can tell him not to, if you'd rather he not."
In truth she'd rather he would not, but journalism was, after all, journalism, and she had to scrounge for facts in whatever ways she could. "Of course," she stuttered, "I'd like to see you both." She was aware that the awkward sentence really said, "Yes, I'll let both of you make love to me."
The dinner was chicken breasts on rice, with a wine sauce. Libby Talma cooked well. After dinner the two sat before the glowing living room fire and drank liqueurs from coffee cups. The heat made Susie sleepy.
All it took to arouse her was Libby standing up before the fire, poking at the burning wood with the rod, and then turning. The heavy body was outlined in red-orange, and her large chest was thrust out. The nipples, inside the bra, seemed to point sharply. Susie watched avidly as Libby unbuttoned the tweed one-piece.
Her bra was pink lace, an extremely complicated bit of underwear. She wore a girdle as well, and the pressure marks on her slightly flabby skin made Susie wince with sympathy. Her thighs were fat, but the body was not unattractive. "Help me out of these things, will you, Susie? We can lie in front of the fire," she promised.
Susie pressed her chest against the bra while her arms encircled the middle-aged woman. She unhooked the straps and then moved back. The cups slid off the jugs. The nipples were already erect, and they were deep brown in color.
The girdle, however, was removed with almost comic difficulty. Libby pulled in her too-large stomach while Susie tried to yank the foundation garment past the spreading thighs. The two squirmed, and when the fabric rustled down Libby's legs to her ankles, they both heaved sighs of relief. Susie chuckled, then looked up to see if she had hurt her boss' feelings.
"Don't worry," Libby told Susie, and the latter noticed how kind the voice was. "Nobody's perfect." It seemed to Susie precisely the right thing to say as she surveyed the body again. The labia looked discolored and worn but still, she wanted to touch the sagging breasts, make[ them live again as the fire-blood raced to the tits.
"Let me undress you, dear." Susie waited primly while Libby slipped the zipper to the base of her spine. The woman rubbed her fingers into the small. "Hmmm, that feels good," the younger woman said, and it did. The fingers moved lower, to the fleshy ass-cheeks. Susie, embarrassed by her flabbiness there, tried to push the buns together. "Relax," she was told, "women are supposed to have soft asses."
She slipped out of her dress. Libby kneeled and then sat on the rug before the fire. She reached up and hugged Susie, pressing her fingers into the back of the girl's upper legs. Susie kneeled too, even though her breasts were still enclosed by a bra and her panties still covered her crotch.
"I'm going to go down on you," Libby Talma said breathlessly, "like no one's ever gone down on you before." With that, she tucked her head into her chest and pushed her naked body against the rug. Through the synthetic fabric of the panties Susie noted the pressure of Libby's jaw. Then the tongue wet the V of the crotch, and soon the moisture seeped onto the hole itself. The garment protected her from the edges of Libby's upper teeth, which sizzled over the clit. The button became puffy, and a few strokes of the tongue later, the lubrication started to flow inside Susie's quim, answering the saliva outside the box.
Libby raised her buttocks and held the genitalia to her face. Her nostrils flexed against the septum as she breathed in the smell of Susie. Her thumbs moved up the sides of the girl's body and pulled in the panty waistband. Susie raised her hips while Libby pulled the fabric down her stomach and past her thighs. She walked backwards on her knees and took them off over the slim ankles, but she couldn't resist first passing them under her nose so that she could smell the scent that remained.
She tossed them away then and slipped her face between the outstretched legs. Susie turned her head from side to side against the floor. She lifted her legs and rested them over Libby's shoulders. That made it easier for her lover to squeeze the rump-cheeks until they were raw with finger prints.
Libby had incredible strength. Each time her tongue swept over the clit and then down to the hole she lifted Susie's butt off the floor and made her 'feel as though her torso was soaring on the power of the single tongue and the pair of wet, probing lips. Mrs. Talma's lipstick smeared and gave the whole beaver a faded red glow.
Susie smashed her crotch against the turning, churning lips. Spit trickled inside her pussy, melting into the warmer fluid that lined the twat. Libby's thumbs pushed the buns apart, and both of the short, broad fingers stretched the skin around the ging. The woman's tongue moved lower. Susie was ticklish, but she gasped out in pleasure when the end of the tongue smacked the sphincter.
"Your pussy tastes so good ... so good ... ! I love to suck you! ... " were the endearments she spoke as she snapped her head back to take in air. Her lips were almost colorless now: the vaginal mist had washed the paint off her mouth. Susie's knees ached because the pumping made her tired. Still, she could not keep herself from moving up to meet Libby's mouth as it sucked her.
Susie was shocked by the way her whole body snapped under the fierce tonguing; she was as out of control now with Libby going down on her as she had been when she'd gone down on Sandy, that mindless little dyke! She tried to grab the rug, but her fingers just slid through the pile.
Libby separated the cheeks wide. She rolled her tongue in a circular fashion over the clit, then cut a straight path down to the smaller of the two holes. She pushed against the anus, then grazed the labia with the side of her tongue before starting the tour again. While Susie's stomach bobbed faster and faster with each new pressure on the button, Libby teased her by moving more slowly. Susie stretched her arms out, sitting up halfway, and pulled on Libby's flabby biceps. Her assbones hit the floor as she wiggled her butt like an impatient child in a tantrum.
Libby helped her. The woman's fat index finger pushed up her friend's rectum. The dry, warm walls of the anal cavity tightened around it as if to spit the finger out. At the same moment she was sucking the clitoris between her teeth.
Susie rolled her lower body up against the thirsty, hungry mouth. Her arms hit the floor, and she started to come. Libby locked her finger inside the asshole and kept it in there while. Susie groaned and thrashed. She did not move her mouth away nor pull out her finger when the orgasm was over and Susie lay silent.
"Would you like a cigarette?" she asked, and Susie surprised herself by saying she would, for she seldom smoked. Awkwardly, Libby disengaged herself-awkwardly because now that the sexual excitement had been drained from the girl's body, it seemed incongruous for her finger to be buried in the constricted anus.
While the two rested, naked and relaxed, smoking before the fire, a car drove up into the large garage. There was a sound to the way Chiver slammed the car door and ambled to the front of the house that suggested he was a frequent and intimate visitor to Mrs. Talma ...
"That's Wil," Libby said, petting Susie's shoulder, reassuring the younger woman of something the latter had expected anyway. She went to the front door and stood behind it, drawing it open so that Chiver did not see her-this way, of course, she concealed her nudity from the neighborhood at large. Chiver sensed the reason for the seemingly magical opening of the door, but he was transfixed at once by the sight of Susie's nude body in the far comer of the living room. Her swelling curves were bathed in a satanic red-orange glow.
He stepped forward, looking at Libby-who sprang to his side-nervously and without interest when his eyes met those of the young therapist, his face attempted the features of a kindly uncle. He admired her nudity as though it were merely an aesthetic commodity-indicating that he himself was not aroused by it And Susie could tell that wasn't true. His cock stuffed his underwear and pressed overbearingly at the stomach of his trousers.
He sat down on an overstuffed chair near the fire. Susie looked up at him with a placid expression. The firelight made him look even older and somehow more foolish than he really was.
Libby Talma, her tits hanging toward her diaphragm like a cow's hovered over him from behind the chair. Her fingers undid the top buttons of his shirt and pulled at the flaps of his regimental striped tie. His hands clasped hers and then quite tenderly, he kissed the backs of her bloated-looking fingers. He licked one of the knuckles. Laughing shyly, Libby pulled back and stepped around to watch him complete his undressing.
Susie felt called upon to help, to show her interest in him. She unclasped his belt and pulled his cock out from cotton briefs. It was smaller than she had expected; the pleated pants he wore had given it a kind of tent effect, and the fabric had billowed around it.
In a strange way, she was glad that he had arrived. She liked getting sucked off as well as any woman, she figured, but there was nothing comparable to the feel of a hard penis inside her quim. Maybe the experts-including Talma and Chiver were right about there only being one kind of orgasm, but somehow they didn't go far enough.
She ran her fingers up the column of stiff pink flesh. Men's cocks, she thought to herself, were the parts of them that stayed youngest the longest. She couldn't have told whether this pecker was a young man's, or whether it belonged to someone middle-aged-as it did.
She pulled the pants off his legs, or rather helped him do it. Libby, kneeling, had rid him of his shirt. He took care of the undershirt himself. His feet were bare also, and now only his shorts covered his stomach. Half covered, really, because the pillar had burst forth. He would have shoved it up against his stomach and then pulled the undershorts down had it not been for the way Susie was jacking him off. He closed his eyes, and his heart beat madly.
He turned to Libby. "Can we go in the bedroom, dear?"
"You and Susie?"
"No," he chuckled in a grandfatherly way, "all three of us," and Mrs. Talma looked both relieved and embarrassed at the reassurance. In the bedroom Chiver was the first to spread out on the king-sized bed. Susie lay back gently as if testing the mattress. She wondered how quickly the tangle of flesh would begin. She turned over on her side and grabbed Chiver's prick. Her movement was almost unconscious; she had seen it, she wanted it, and so she took it.
Libby was hugging her. The woman's large palms brushed her breasts and rubbed the tits into solid erections. They way that Libby, on her knees, was thrusting her pud forward, told them both how much she wanted her own satisfaction. Susie took pity on her and moved under the pubic altar. She licked the distended labia, washing them in spit, and then Chiver was beside her, teasing the rising of Libby's hipbone with the edges of his perfect white teeth-so perfect, thought Susie, that she was sure they were dentures.
Mrs. Talma spread her arms behind her and threw her weight down on the palms. Her legs were parted wide enough for Susie and Chiver both to push their mouths against the opposite sides of her purplish-pink pussy, covered with coarse brown hairs and coated with a moist colorless film.
Susie felt her cheek get hot and flushed as she rubbed it up and down over Libby's privates. Her tongue almost met, over the chasm, the tip of Chiver's tongue, which was manipulating the matching labia as he stared at Susie. He put his hand at the back of her head and then shoved his mouth closer. Suddenly the two were kissing with open mouths, and Libby showed her enjoyment by rolling her pud against their cheeks while they trenched. She massaged their necks, the fingers of one hand kneading the flesh above Chiver's collarbone while the fingers of the other prowled as low as Susie's shoulders.
She lost her balance and stumbled back on the bed. Both partners followed her down. Susie's mouth opened wide on Mrs. Talma's quim, while Chiver took her breast. He kneaded it with both hands, and when the tit pointed sharp as a diamond he took it between his teeth and licked it furiously.
It didn't take much to make Libby climax Susie found, but when the woman's whole body rocked with the waves of orgasm, the end of one climax blended into another. Susie counted three separate orgasms in a row, each distinct from the other. Obviously all that she had learned from her research had not been for pure science. Susie's throat was dry from using so much of her saliva to suck and tongue-kiss the other woman's pussy.
She came up off the crotch when at last Libby appeared sated. She 'looked into the woman's eyes, and their noses almost touched. Libby's lips parted and the two exchanged tongues. Susie delighted in the softness, the coolness, of her lover's tongue.
Chiver was at their side. He had raised her arm as though it were the limb of a machine. His tongue was massaging the armpit, and he was so excited that he kept jamming his prick against the side of Susie's knee. He was startled at the words that next came from Mrs. Talma's lips, when the latter drew her mouth away and ended their kiss. "Blow Wil," she said, and she did not miss the smile of understanding that passed between the middle-aged couple.
So, while Libby rested, Susie took the shaft in her hand and opened her mouth. With her hand still circled around the instrument, the doctor pushed deep inside, across her tongue and up against the roof of the orifice.
"Slower," she said, and her lips pursed around the dick. She stuck her tongue out, but it was her whole head that moved, as she tracked the cock up and down with the edge of the soft muscle. She followed the glans until a trickle of new dog-water required cleaning. She pulled down on the skin that covered the penis and then smashed the bulb on the inside of her left cheek. Her tongue now tasted of his sweat and his premature semen.
"Oh, please," he said, and he repeated again and again the word please. The rest of his body felt bone dry; it seemed to wheeze and squeak, so parched was the skin and unlubricated the joints. But his cock was washed in tide after tide of spit provided by Susie's tongue. When she drew the skin down toward the base and raised her lips past the head, he groaned and tried to shove the stick back in her mouth.
"No, I want you to tuck mc. I want ... I need you." She had to force herself to say these last words, but they were true. She needed him to end the aching in her twat, the longing, the emptiness.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the concern in Libby Talma's face. It gave her a feeling of unease, but not half so intense an impression as the one Chiver's own expression caused. It seemed to be a look of fear.
Yet her body was moving without the direction of her mind-it had even outdistanced her senses. She was climbing onto the stick, shoving it inside. It went in easily.
Then the revelation came.
From the second it touched the lining of her pussy, the cock started to wilt. It grew smaller and weaker; the hardness disappeared. Chiver s phallus was thawed and impotent the second she spread her twat-lips and thrust her pud down invitingly on the cock's head.
She could not conceal her puzzlement; both her lovers read it on her face. Oddly, both seemed relieved. The thing they feared had happened-but for that very reason, they no longer had reason to fear it.
She had stopped moving. The cock was limp but completely inside her. Her pubic hairs twined into Chiver's. His lips were tensed against his front teeth as though he wished to say something but couldn't. Susie's glance turned to Libby Talma.
"I should have told you, shouldn't I, dear?" The tone was maternal, as if it had been the facts of life she were concealing from a shocked teen-aged daughter.
"Told me what?"
Later Susie would, realize that she should have caught on much earlier in the game. But right now she was genuinely confounded.
"Wil and I discovered the identical nature of all female orgasms ... " She paused, as if to part with this secret were the ultimate sacrifice. " ... Because we were both unable to achieve orgasm except through oralism. All my life I had worried that I wasn't achieving the ultimate climax, the vaginal orgasm. I wanted so desperately to prove there was no difference." She was moving relentlessly on, illustrating the soundness of the adage that confession is good for the soul. "And Wil-" She turned her gaze on Wil Chiver, and looked at him lovingly. "-helped me prove there was no difference ... "
***
The diet pill had made her intolerably jumpy, as diet pills always did. But without it she could not have stayed up all night.
Now it was six-thirty in the morning, the hour when her neighbors would rise and go to work. All day long they would be immersed in their jobs, hardly thinking for a moment about sex-unless a pretty or handsome stranger passed them on the street. They would not, in any case be thinking of what awaited them in the marriage bed.
She had completed the first draft of the article in one frantic sitting. It would need work, a great deal of work, and she would have to sleep before she could attempt the revisions. It had not been the time factor-she was well ahead of deadline-but rather her excitement that had made her sit down at this desk and type through the silent Connecticut night. She longed for the relief that always came when she had solved the handling of a major story.
Connecticut. Too quiet. She had been away from New York too long. She wanted to trade the sounds of the indolent birds for the squawls of cabs and trucks and the underground hum of subway trains.
Trains. She called the station. She would leave that morning on a commuter train; she could be packed and out of the temporary apartment in an hour.
The thought of a warm bath crossed her mind, and that sounded so good! Her brain raced through wild and exciting thoughts, and .she reconsidered the warm bath-that might calm her, and she was enjoying the excitement too much to want to be calmed.
She would have to pack, yes, she would have to pack. God! The thoughts were coming a mile a minute. New York. New York!
She had copy to write! Female orgasm! Indeed! Nobody, but nobody! even knew what the fucking thing was all about! How would she write it?
... She put her fingers on the typewriter keys, and by themselves they found the words.
