The people on the ship were very wealthy and famous, and they had one other thing in common too:
They had all taken this one-day cruise in an attempt to find themselves by living out their sexual fantasies.
The black rock-and-roll singer wanted to have a young white boy dominate her and call her dirty names.
The husband of the movie star wanted to watch his wife make it with another man.
The novelist wanted to recreate the rape that he had once committed on a strange, young girl.
The two teen-aged girls wanted to make love to one another while a man watched them.
And they found what they wanted on the pleasure cruise. It was a night filled with hard cocks and hot pussies, lust and anger, passion and pain. It was the kind of night that human beings only go through once.
But it was the kind of night that gave them all what they yearned for in life.
CHAPTER ONE
Barney, the famous novelist, the man who created suspenseful, best-selling murder mysteries, sat in the cabin of the ship and read over the brochure that he had been given for this little over-night journey in the Pacific ocean. He already knew that he and the other passengers on that ship had several things in common, and he thought about those things.
They were all wealthy.
They were all famous.
They all had waited a long time for the chance to take a cruise on this ship.
And they were all anxiously awaiting the chance to have their sexual fantasies fulfilled. After all, that was what the trip was for, Barney thought with a smile.
He started to fantasize about his books. This type of cruise would be a great place for a murder mystery, he imagined. A lot of famous people get together to work out their secret desires and then one of those famous people wound up dead. Oh, yes, the readers would love it. It would be filled with sex and violence and real meaning. Barney liked to work real meaning into his murder mysteries. He had been hailed in France as a great novelist and stylish, a man who had his hand on the pulse of the modern world, and some Europeans even said that he deserved a Nobel Prize for his work. It did not matter to those critics that his novels had titles such as "The Blonde Wore Black."
"The Gun and the Virgin," and "The Black Box of New York."
Those Europeans knew great literature when they read it, Barney thought, and a book about this pleasure cruise, a book about a murder in this kind of warped high society would be a big seller in Europe and in the United States. It might even be the book that put him 'over the top, that got him that Nobel Prize. Then he could thumb his nose at all of those critics in America who called him nothing but a pulp mystery writer.
And he had to admit that he needed a big seller very soon, because he was running low on money. He had made a lot of money over the past twenty years of his writing career, but he was nearing fifty and he had four ex-wives and ten children to support, and the IRS was on his back again about those little games that he played every April 15 when he filed his reports.
But Barney could not think about the IRS right now. He wanted to concentrate on that woman who was on the ship, the woman whose sexual fantasy matched his own perfectly. He did not know yet who that woman was or what she looked like, but he would find out very soon. He would find out just as soon as he got the notice from the steward that he was to go to one of the rooms on the ship and work out his desires-and hers too.
Barney read a paragraph in the brochure again. It was not very well-written, he thought, but it made the point well.
"Who knows what goes on in the minds of human beings? Who knows what human beings crave in their darkest hearts in the middle of the night? Well, we know. We know what you crave, and, for a sum, we will match you with another person whose fantasy fits your own and we will give you the opportunity to work out those fantasies with each other, to answer those crying needs that you have had for a lifetime. If you will just fill out this form and send us the form with a check for $10,000, we will put you into our computer and we will try to find a mate for her. The check will not be cashed until the mate is found and the cruise is scheduled. Caution: it sometimes takes months to find a suitable mate for the more elaborate fantasies, but we will continue our search until we do find one that fits your yearnings exactly. Once that match is made and your cruise is scheduled, the money will not be refunded for any reason. We assure you that your mate will be attractive and willing and very alive with sex. And we are sure that you will be the same way for your mate. Do not fear. Our service is entirely confidential."
And very expensive, Barney thought. He had had to write a full-length magazine article in two days in order to make the ten thousand dollars that he needed to pay for this cruise, but now, as he waited there in his cabin to be told where his mate was, he knew that it was worth it. He could already feel the tingle in his spine that told him that he was going to have a lot of fun.
It had only taken them two weeks to find his mate and book them for the same cruise. His fantasy was really not that elaborate and he knew that it matched the fantasy of many women too. He wanted to rape a woman again.
Barney closed his eyes and remembered that one real rape that he had committed when he was just a boy serving in Korea in the army. One night on patrol, he and his old friends Goon-Face and Bugger had come across a half-naked, frightened, Korean girl, a pretty, yellow girl with nice, melon-sized tits. They had not even discussed it. It was the middle of the night and they were out there in the Korean jungle and there was no one around to tell them that they should not do it. And they were all horny after days on patrol, and she had been very pretty, in a slant-eyed sort of way.
So they had raped her. It had been that pure and that simple. When she screamed, Goon-Face hit her in the mouth with his fist and that shut her up. Goon-Face had gone first and then Bugger had gotten into her Korean cunt. And then, finally, Barney took his turn at bat.
Naturally, Barney was more sensitive to the girl than either of his friends. Goon-Face and Bugger were great guys but they were both high school drop-outs. One of them was from Arkansas and the other one was from Chicago. Barney was a college graduate from Long Island. He knew more about literature and he had already decided that he wanted to be a novelist. He had decided that he would write his first book about the Korean War and that it would be a best-seller. So he knew that he would have to remember every detail of this rape as well as he could. As he shoved his pants down and jabbed his thick, dirty cock into her, Goon-Face and Bugger held her onto the ground. But Barney knew that she did not really need to be held down at all. By that time, she was weak with fright and surrender and her eyes were dazed with the raping that had been done. She just looked at him with those big, Korean eyes, and he had thought of babies. She was a young girl, probably not more than fifteen or sixteen, and she had been a baby once. Barney had thought then that it would be good for both of them if he could get her pregnant with this raping so that she could carry the seed of the novelist in her as she wandered through the fields of Korea. Her face was bloody and her eyes were dazed and she was weak. Her breath came to her in shallow little gasps that made her nice, damp tits heave up to greet the soldier as he raped her. But Barney could tell, even then, that she was the kind of girl who would understand that a good raping was just the kind of sex she needed. Women were meant to be raped, the novelist thought. He had been sure of it from that moment on, and he had written about that idea in many of his books. Many feminist critics called him a swine for saying such things, but Barney knew that they understood in their hearts that he was correct.
Of course, things had not worked out exactly as he had planned in his life.
He had come home from Korea and had married the first of his wives and had played the little rape games with her, but it was not the same. She enjoyed it too much and that reminded him that it was just a game. She did. not have that bloody, dazed look that that Korean girl had had that night in the jungle. He had written his war novel too and had gotten it published. But it did not turn into a best-seller. It was ignored by most of the critics, except for the ones who called it a rip-off, who said that he had followed in the tradition of other hacks by rewriting great novels and turning them into trash.
Then that first wife had divorced him and had run off with an insurance executive from New Hampshire. And he had married again and that wife had not wanted to play rape at all.
It was during his second marriage that he had begun to write about murder, and those books sold very well. But the critics still ignored him, except for the ones in Europe who understood. His books were made into movies but he had never really liked any of the films that had been based on his novels. They never really captured the essence of cruelty that Barney knew that he understood. They just had some gunshots and some tits in them.
There was more to sex and to humanity than gunshots and tits. Barney knew that. There was rape too. He could not count the hundreds of times, probably thousands of times that he had dreamed about that pretty, dazed Korean girl, and it seemed to him that, as he got older, the dreams came more often. By this time, Barney thought that that girl had been the only one that he had ever really fucked with any meaningful, male relish at all.
Barney had kept himself in shape, but he had worked out even more diligently at the gym every day for the past week in preparation for this cruise, this night. He wanted to be special for this woman who wanted to be raped. He wanted to let her know that she was getting a real man. Now he lay on the bed in the cabin in his jeans and his T-shirt and he looked at himself in the mirror. He thought that he did look like a real rapist, a thug. His hair was gray and he still had sort of a pot-belly, but he looked like a thug. He could put the fear into a woman if one only gave him the chance, he thought with glee. His face a little white too, he noticed. That was because the tossing ship made him a little sick. He did not like sailing. He had been a foot soldier in Korea.
There was a knock at the door and Barney jumped up from the bed. He stood there" by the bed and took a deep breath and then slowly walked to the door and opened it. When he saw the man in the uniform standing there, he knew that this was the message that he had been waiting for, and it seemed to Barney that he had been waiting for this message since that night so many years before, that night in Korea. He sighed as the man in the uniform handed him the folded slip of paper. He just hoped that that woman who waited for him in another cabin was Korean. If she were, it would be complete and wonderful. It would be like regaining his youth.
Barney opened the piece of paper and read it with fevered eyes. Cabin H, the paper said. That is where she waited for him. That is where his youth was lying.
Cabin H.
Barney ran over the letter several times in his head. H as in hero. H as in heroin. H as in hell. H as in humiliation. H as in heaven. All of those words seemed to fit at that moment.
Barney opened the door to his own cabin and stepped out into the hallway. He checked himself one last time and pulled his gut in just as far as he could and tried to sneer like a rapist should. Then he closed the door to his cabin and walked down the hall.
He was in Cabin B. He saw the other letters pass him as he moved down the hall with all of his criminal grace.
C. D. E. F. G.
And then it was there.
Cabin H.
"Goddamn slut," he whispered, testing the words out on his lips. He had picked those words out after studying his expression in the mirror as he said many words of anger and criminal intent. It seemed to him that goddamn slut went well with the sneer, the style that he was trying to perfect on this night.
Barney tried the words again in another harsh whisper.
"Goddamn slut, spread those fucking legs. You are going to get your pussy raped, you goddamn slut."
Yes, those were the words that he would use!
Barney stood outside the door to cabin H and wondered if he should knock. Then he thought that that was stupid of him. Rapists did not knock. He had not knocked with that Korean girl back in the days of his youth, had he? Of course, there had been nothing to knock on that night. No door had separated the madcap soldiers from the girl that they lusted after. She had just been there in the forest, had just been there on the ground, trying to hide from them when they marched by her.
But Barney knew that he would not knock tonight. He put his hand on the doorknob and twisted it. The damned thing would not turn. The door was locked.
He jiggled the knob in his anger and then he heard the feminine voice on the other side of the door, the voice that came from deep within Cabin H.
"Shit, I forgot to unlock it," she said. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute and then burst in on me."
He heard the click of the lock and he jerked his hand away from the doorknob. Already, things were getting spoiled, he thought. Already, he did not feel like a rapist at all.
One part of Barney's mind told him that he should turn around and walk back to his cabin and forget about the whole thing. He was already embarrassed by his own faltering turns on that doorknob. But then he remembered that he had paid a lot of money for this experience and he remembered that that woman on the other side of the door was probably embarrassed too. After all, she had been the one who had fucked the whole thing up. He took another deep breath and determined to go into that cabin and rape her and try to gain at least some sweetness from the experience. If he could not recapture all of his soldier days, his youth, he would at least rape her and knock about seven or eight years off his middle-aged life.
He touched the door with a hesitant motion, as if he were afraid that the knob would shock him. Then he turned it slowly and pushed the door open. He looked into the room. It was dark in there, but he saw the form, the woman lying there on the bed. He saw her outline in the moonlight that came in through the cabin porthole.
Remembering his criminal intent, the novelist moved into the cabin and shut the door behind him softly and flicked the lock. The woman did not move. She lay there on her back as if she were dead. Barney crept closer to her.
He looked down on her and the first time that he noticed was that she was very tall. She seemed to stretch out all over that bed. She must have been at least six feet tall, he thought, and Barney himself was only five foot four. He lied and said that he was five foot seven inches tall, but he knew the truth. He had been five-four since he was fourteen years old. He had not grown an inch since the ninth grade.
He looked down on the tall woman who lay there on the bed. She was wearing a flimsy, long, white nightgown and she seemed to be very thin, like a model. Her breasts were small but well-formed and her hair was red, fiery red in the moon-light. Her face was very pale. He looked at that pale face and thought again that she looked like a woman who was dead, who had been laid out for the mourners. But there were no mourners. There was only Barney and he was a stranger and a rapist.
He had been concentrating so diligently on her dead-likeness that he jumped when she opened her lips and spoke to him. Her voice was soft and seemed to echo back in her throat. He caught the lilt of a Southern accent.
"My name is Barbara," she whispered.
But only her lips moved. The rest of her body and her face was still, still like the dead.
"My name is Barney," the man said. "Happy to meet you."
And then he snapped her fingers and turned away from her in self-disgust.
"Oh, shit,"-he muttered. "Oh, shit. I am so fucking stupid. Goddamn it to hell."
He was standing there shaking with his own embarrassment, the anguish that came over him when he realized that a rapist did not introduce himself to a woman before he raped her. A criminal did not want to leave any clues at all, and he certainly did not introduce himself and say that he was happy to meet the woman. He was not happy to meet her. He was happy to rape her.
This thing was not working out at all.
Behind him, he heard the woman move. When he glanced back at her she was sitting up on the bed and she had pulled her long legs up to her body and was resting her chin on her knees like a little girl.
"That's okay, Barney," she said. "We all make mistakes sometimes."
Her voice was soothing, he thought, and then he hated himself with a new wave of disgust because he remembered that she should not be soothing him. She was the victim and he was the rapist. She should be screaming in pain. She had wanted this too, he recalled. This had been her fantasy and this was the reason why she had been linked up with Barney for this cruise. He glanced back at the tall redhead and he felt that he had let her down in some strange way. She was not even afraid of him now, and she should be afraid.
She would have to be afraid if her fantasy was going to work itself out at all.
And Barney remembered all the stuff that he had written about the rough ease of rape. He realized now that he had been wrong. There were many things in the world a damned sight easier than rape, he thought.
"Let's just start right now," Barbara said softly, using her Southern accent in a sexy way. "Let's just act like nothing ever happened before this very moment. You are in here and now you will rape me. Okay?"
He had been willing to go along with her plan until that last word. But there was something just a little too chipper, he thought, about the way that she had said okay. It was like a little girl making up rules for a child's game. No, this girl was not a suitable victim at all.
There was silence in the room for a moment. Barney kept his back turned to the redhead until he heard the ripping, the mad ripping of soft fabric, and then he heard her sigh with fear and anxiety.
"No. No. Please, don't do that. You are ripping off my nightgown. No."
Who was ripping off her nightgown? Quickly, Barney had an vision. Some other man, some good and noble rapist who was young, who had just come in from the Korean battlefield, had entered the room quietly and had taken Barney's place in her bed. That could not be. He had paid a lot of money for this cruise and this experience, and he would not allow it. He turned quickly and crouched there, ready to jump on the other Korean veteran who had taken his place as the rapist of the night.
But there was no one there. Barbara was ripping off her own nightgown and was thrashing around on the bed as her naked body came into view and she was sighing with fear' in her voice.
She had started the game without him. That made the novelist very angry indeed. The redheaded bitch had no right to start acting like she was raped when he was there in the room. He was the rapist and he had not done anything to her yet except introduce himself like a fucking fool.
The novelist felt his cock get very hard in his pants, harder than it had been in years and he knew that his anger was making his prick so massive. He tore at his trousers, ripped them open and pushed them down and exposed his meaty, gritty prick to the redhead who tossed there on the bed. Then he jumped on her. He flew through the air and landed with all of his force on her thin, long body.
When he was that close to her, when he felt her under him, he was surprised to discover that that thin body was very soft and sexy. He put his hands on the firm tits and twisted them and growled at her.
"Goddamn slut, spread those fucking legs."
He was happy that the words had come out just as he had planned for them to do.
"No," she whimpered, "please don't rape me."
And she pressed her legs together. Barney reached down and tried to run his hand in between those legs and push them apart but she was too strong for him. He could not move her legs at all.
What could he do now? He thought about it for a heated second and then he remembered what his old army buddies had done to put that dazed expression in that Korean girl's face. This redhead was not Korean but he figured that it would work just as well with her.
He raised his fist and brought it down on her face.
"Goddamn slut," he snarled as she screamed and as the blood shot out of her nose and mouth with little spurts.
And the rape was suddenly very real to both of them. Barney sensed that with his novelist's instinct.
The redhead did spread her legs. She spread them wide and Barney's hand moved down and slapped against her pussy as he watched her bleed. The red blood flowed into her red hair as she lay there and cried and whimpered and moaned to him.
"Please, don't. Not this way. Not now. Please, leave me alone."
And she tried to raise her arms up and fight the novelist off, but he was the strong one by then. He pushed her arms back and slapped her cunt again and found her pussy leaking with juices. He had known that she would like if he could just work it right.
Just for good measure, he hit her again. He curled his meaty hand into a fist and he dug that fist into her throat. He heard her gasp and gag, and then he drove his cock deep into her pussy.
God, that pussy was warm, he thought as he started to fuck away. He rode her with violent passion and closed his eyes and remembered that Korean girl, the girl who had given her all for the soldiers in the field that night so many years before. This redhead was going to give her all too.
"I am going to shoot my come into your pussy and give you a baby," Barney snarled. "Rapes always make the best babies."
And the long, thin redhead did not deny that he was correct. She only made a strange gurgling sound in the back of her throat and turned her bleeding face away from his as Barney, the famous novelist and soldier in Korea, fucked her, rammed his meaty, stubby cock into her and thought that he would tear her pussy open if he could.
This was it, the man thought with a sigh. This was what he had waited for for so long. This is what he had paid for.
And, as he came into that girl's pussy, he groaned and knew that this experience had been worth every dime of that ten thousand dollars. He felt young and strong again as he felt his cock explode in her warm, wet cunt.
CHAPTER TWO
Bob and Natalie were both movie stars, but she was the one who was acclaimed as an actress. The critics said that Bob was just another pretty face and one of them had gone so far as to imply that he would never get a job in a film if Natalie did not insist on co-starring with him at least once every couple of years.
Natalie was the one with the academy award, for her performance as a prostitute in a film that was a big box office hit. Bob had never even been nominated for an Oscar.
He had never told Natalie the truth about how he felt about her success, never in ten years of marriage. But he was envious, terribly, terribly envious. When he started drinking sometimes, late at night when Natalie was away from the house that she had paid for, shooting a film on location, he would mumble to himself and then he would begin to scream. He would curse her with all the anger that came from deep in his black-hearted soul.
"Damn you, Natalie!" he would scream. "Damn your cunt to hell! You got an Oscar for playing a whore, but you didn't deserve because you were not acting! You are a fucking whore, baby, a lousy, fucking whore!"
And then he would feel very guilty about saying things like that, even when he was alone. Often he would start to cry. He knew that his curses had an element of truth in them. He knew that she was a whore. She slept with other men all the time, and she had even admitted it to Bob one night when she had been drinking. But he could not really blame her. She was a major star and he was just a minor one. Now, as they rolled out into the Pacific Ocean, he knew that he would get his revenge on her in his own way. After this night, he would never feel the need to curse her again.
She had agreed to this little experiment at sea for her own reasons, for her own kinky, sexy reasons. She did not know just how much this experience would mean to her husband. She sat there on the bed right now and looked at him from behind her reading glasses. She was calm, he thought, reading a murder mystery that she had picked up just before they had boarded the ship, waiting for everything to happen and giving no real thought to it.
Bob was as nervous as a cat on a hot, tin roof.
The husband poured himself another drink and reminded himself that he had to be careful. He did not want to drink too much. He did not want to get drunk. He just wanted to be prepared and ready for what was going to happen that night. Then, after that night, he would never have to curse his wife again because he would know for sure. He would have seen the truth in her terrible movements and her sick passions and he would be able to accept her for what she was then.
Natalie would have never understood this. Bob knew that. Even though she was the major star of the two, he was the smart one. He had to admit that his sexy, dark-haired wife was really very dumb.
Even if he had tried to explain it to her that he needed to know for certain, she would not have been able to fathom his meaning. With Bob, knowledge was everything. Once he knew something, once he had seen that something at work, he could accept it as if it were a law of the universe. After tonight, he thought, he would be able to accept that some greater power in the universe had made the rule that his wife should be a whore and that he should be the husband of a whore. Then things would be all right between them. Even though she was a whore, Bob loved Natalie and he did not want to leave her or hurt her. He just wanted to know things for certain.
And that is why he had talked her into taking this cruise. They had applied for membership in this special club of fantasy-minded, wealthy people, and they had waited for about a month until the people who ran the cruise had found a man in their computer, a man who fit their fantasy with his own.
Now they were waiting for that man. Bob and Natalie had been told that that man would come to their cabin. Natalie turned a page in her book and glanced up and smiled at Bob as her husband sipped at his drink. She was waiting too. She knew what that man was going to do to her and she knew that she was going to enjoy it. But she was too stupid, Bob thought, to really understand the meaning of what was going to happen on this special night.
There was a knock on the door, a firm knock. Bob gulped down his drink while Natalie lay her book on the night table next to the bed. Then the husband got up out of his chair and walked to the door. He opened it slowly. The man smiled at him.
The man was young, probably in his twenties, and he was thin and muscular in a lean, cowboy sort of way. He had a dark beard and a bright, white smile. Bob thought that he looked vaguely familiar but he could not really place the man who had come to share the night with him and his wife.
"Bob?" the man asked, grinning.
"Yes," Bob muttered.
"My name is Tom," the man said.
Bob opened the door a little further and the bearded, young man, Tom, stuck out his hand in a friendly fashion. He did not seem to be at all embarrassed by what they both knew what about to happen. Bob was embarrassed and he felt the liquor hit him suddenly and make him dizzy. He did not shake Tom's hand. Instead, he staggered back away from the door and fell into the chair. Tom walked in and closed the door behind him. He smiled at Natalie.
"Hi," he said, "I am Tom. You must be Natalie."
"Call me Nat," the woman on the bed said.
When she said that, Bob jerked his head around and looked at his wife. She had never told him to call her Nat. She had always been just Natalie to her husband. And then Bob realized that that was probably the difference between a husband and a lover as far as Natalie was concerned. The husband was more formal. With a lover, she could have a nickname. His head swam with the liquor and he thought that he was going to be sick.
Tom was standing there, looking at him.
"Are you going to be okay, Bob?" the man asked.
"Yeah," he said. "Sure. I will be okay. Just drank a little shot of bourbon a little too quickly."
Bob held his forehead in his hand and glanced up at the man. He waved him toward the bed.
"Go ahead. Get on with it," he snarled.
"Bob," Natalie said, "that is no way to talk to our guest. Tom is our guest here tonight, you know."
Guest? Bob almost laughed out loud when she said that. That was a terrible, cordial way of saying it. The truth was this: Tom was going to fuck Natalie that night. He was going to fuck her and call her Nat and do all of that right there in front of her husband. That was not something that a guest would do, Bob thought.
He looked un at Tom again. No, he thought, this young man with the beard was not a guest. He was a good friend. Although they had never met before, Bob felt a strong compassion for this man who stood over him and worried about him. This man was going to fuck Bob's wife and let Bob know for sure that Natalie was a whore. He was going to set things right by fucking that woman on the bed, and he was going to make everything sensible for this Hollywood couple.
Bob found himself apologizing to his wife's would-be lover.
"Sorry, Tom," he said. "I don't mean to be coarse with you. I am sure that you are a very nice guy, but I am a little nervous."
"Nervous?" Natalie chirped from the bed. "What do you have to be nervous about? Tom and I are going, to do all the work. You are just going to sit there and watch like some kind of parakeet in a cage-" s
"Nat," Tom broke in, "I can understand why he is nervous. He is your husband and he cares for you and he wants to see this and yet he does not want to see it. He is a little confused right now, aren't you, Bob?"
"Yeah," Bob muttered, "confused. That is what I am. Confused."
"Well, don't worry about it, old man," the would-be lover said. "When things get started, I think that you will find that all of that old confusion will just wash right away. You just wait and see if it doesn't."
Bob suddenly hated the man again. He did not like this buddy-buddy attitude that Tom was developing. Old man? What was this guy, anyway? Some kind of grade-B, British actor? No, he was not British. He was just a man with affected ways, and Bob did not like that kind of affectation. He sat there silently and boiled with disgust, but he knew that he would have to go through with it. If he did not let Tom fuck Natalie, old Nat of the hot-cunt tribe, then his wife would laugh at him forever. In her simple mind, this fucking was just fun. She would never be able to understand what kind of turmoil Bob was going through.
When Bob said nothing, old friendly Tom took that as a sign that everything was settled. Then the young man with the beard turned his attention to the wife.
And Natalie was dressed for the occasion. She was wearing a sheer, short, pink nightgown and a pair of pink panties. She was sitting up with her long legs stretched out in front of her. She moved those legs back and forth, crossing and recrossing her ankles and she smiled at the young, bearded man who smiled at her.
Tom seemed to be ready for action too, Bob thought. He was dressed in a T-shirt and he was wearing a pair of old, faded jeans. His feet were bare. He was wearing some kind of imagine, masculine cologne, the kind that smelled like rawhide and come, Bob thought.
But what Bob thought made no difference any longer. The husband knew that. His wife and the man had looked at each other, had made a connection. Now they were going to fuck and there was nothing that Bob could do to stop them.
Natalie pointed at the liquor cabinet.
"Would you like to make yourself a drink, Tom?" she asked.
"No," the thin man said. "I never drink myself. I don't want anything slowing down my reflexes, if you know what I mean."
And then he flashed one of those bright-toothed, obscene smiles at the woman. She knew what he meant and Bob knew what he meant too. Natalie giggled and looked at Bob when she said it.
"Yeah," she sighed. "I think that lovers are better when they don't drink or smoke."
Bob winced as if he had just been slugged with a fist. But he would not let her get the better of him in that way. He pulled a pack-of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and put one of the cigarettes in his mouth. Then he could not find his lighter. Natalie was looking at him and she was the one who pointed to the desk behind him.
"There, Bob," she snarled. "There it is. Drive another nail in your coffin."
Bob grabbed the lighter and lit the cigarette and took a deep breath, drawing the smoke into his lungs. Then he stared at his wife and blew the smoke out with a smile on his lips.
Natalie glared at him with something that looked like disgust in her face.
Then she turned her head and smiled at the man who had come to visit and fuck her.
She patted the bed and spoke to him like a lover.
"Come sit down here, Bob," she said.
"Sure, Nat," the man said. When he used that nickname, Bob winced with a sharp pain in his brain.
Tom moved onto the bed and sat next to Nat with his legs stretched out in front of him and his back resting on the headboard.
"You are very handsome, Tom," the woman said, almost sighing with lust.
But Bob was not sure how much of that lust was only a put-on, something to make him feel even worse. The whole situation had suddenly taken a turn that he had not expected. It had turned into some kind of battle between him and Natalie. He frowned when he thought of that, when he said her complete name to himself. He refused to call her Nat, even in his mind. That was too gross, too disgusting a name for her. It sounded like the name that belonged to some girl from the backwoods, some disgusting girl with big, cow-like tits and bad teeth and dirty feet. No, she would remain Natalie as far as her husband was concerned.
But now his Natalie was running her fingers over Tom's chest and grinning at him and she was cooing to him like some whore.
"I bet that you are strong, Tom," she whispered just loud enough for her husband to hear. "I bet that you are very strong."
"I try to keep in shape," the young man said, smiling at the woman with a look of false humility on his face.
"I like a man who keeps in shape," the woman said. "I bought Bob some weights last Christmas but he never works out on them. He is really very frail."
Frail? Bob had never thought of himself as frail before. Thin and wiry, maybe, but not frail.
But the husband could tell that the young man with the beard was getting a little sick of hearing about him, and he was not surprised when Tom made the suggestion to his lover, that whore Nat.
"Let's forget about Bob," he said. "The next few moments belong to us, Nat, only to us. Bob can take care of himself.' And, saying that, the young man turned and pulled the woman to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. He was strong. Bob could see the muscles working in Tom's arms as he held Natalie close. And the woman was surrendering to the man very quickly. When that first kiss was over, she covered the bearded man's face with soft kisses, little kisses, the kind that she had often given Bob when they were first married.
And then the two people on the bed twisted and turned and moved down so that they were lying on the cool, white sheets of the bed. Bob watched as Tom kept himself slightly above Natalie so that he could lower his face to hers and kiss her lips while his hands went over her firm, movie-star tits. Natalie moaned with delight with the touches that the man was giving to her.
Tom had been right, Bob thought. The husband did feel strangely relieved now that the sexy action between the woman and the man on the bed had actually begun. For one thing, Natalie no longer directed her attention to her husband, no longer tried to find ways to make fun of the man who sat there watching them. She did not even seem to know that Bob was in the room with them any longer. She sighed like the whore that she was as the bearded, young man held her close to him, and she kissed the white material of his T-shirt. And then she put her hands under that T-shirt and lifted it, raised it up. Tom knew what she wanted and he sat up on the bed quickly and pulled the shirt off. His chest and stomach was covered with dark hair. Natalie ran her fingers through that hair. The husband could tell that she was enthralled by the feel of that hairy chest, but he did not like it at all. To him, Tom looked like some kind of mangy animal. Bob did not have any hair on his chest. He had never had much hair on his body.
Tom lay back on the bed and Natalie moved down the bed so that she could kiss and caress all of that hair. The man let her do that. He let the woman move over his body and used her lips and her tongue on his chest and stomach. And Natalie was using her hands too. She ran one of her hands down to the bulge in Tom's trousers and cupped his sex organs in her hand and gave those organs a soft, girlish squeeze. When she did that, Tom smiled down on her, and Bob, watching them, was surprised to discover that his head was clear. The liquor that he had drunk no longer seemed to affect him at all. He was breathing regularly and watching the two people on the bed as if they were some kind of boring but intellectually fascinating exhibit in a dark, old museum.
As he watched the two people on the bed, Bob tried to remember if Natalie had ever touched him in that way, had ever cupped his crotch in her hand as she had cupped Tom's. Maybe she had. She must have done it sometime. Perhaps when they were first married. It seemed to Bob suddenly that everything that was good between him and Natalie had had happened when they were first married. Nothing that was much good had happened in years.
Bob watched with fevered fascination as his wife used her nimble fingers to loosen and unzip those jeans. He was not surprised when he found out that Tom had not worn any undershorts to the cabin. He figured that he would not have worn any either, if he had been in Tom's place. But he was not in Tom's place, and that gave him a strange sense of glee. He leaned forward and watched his wife and the man with the hairy body as if he were watching the most wonderful porno film ever made. He sighed when he saw how Natalie's fingers curled around Tom's cock, how she stroked the man with such expert ease. And then he saw his wife turn her head and look at the cock and come toward it, as if something in that big, long, meaty prick was drawing her to the shaft. She seemed to be hypnotized by the rod. She should have seen her husband sitting there as she looked down at that cock and past it, but she did not seem to notice Bob at all. In the husband's mind, the woman was incapable of seeing past the prick. And she had taken off her glasses when Tom had entered the room. Perhaps that was it, Bob guessed. But, just as soon as he thought that, he knew that it was not right. There was nothing that wrong with his wife's vision. She was just attracted to the prick and she was intending to suck on it.
She licked her lips as she came closer and closer to the cock and then she raised her head over it and looked down on it and stuck out her tongue and licked the pink cock-tip with a fast, almost serpent-like motion.
Natalie opened her soft mouth and lowered her face and took that prick into her. Bob sighed again when he saw that. He knew what Natalie's mouth felt like when it was on his cock. He could remember that. She had done that for him many times.
When they were first married-
Tom sighed too and reached down and ran his fingers through Natalie's dark hair as she worked up and down on the rod, sucking on it and then licking her tongue down the side of the shaft and then sucking on it again. She worked on that cock like a pro, her husband thought. She worked on that cock like a real pro whore.
Bob was getting what he wanted. He would know for certain about his wife's whorish ways when this night was over, he reminded himself. But he had trouble remembering that that was his wife, that that was Natalie, when he looked at her now sucking on that cock. He had trouble remembering that these people were real. He had seen all of Natalie's movies, even the ones that she had made with him and he kept thinking that she was actually up there on the screen at that moment, a porno star, a girl in a film who was sucking off some stranger in some movie in which the plot made little sense, in which the plot was almost non-existent. Bob had seen quite a few of those movies. He often went to see them when Natalie was out of town, and he had to shake his head from time to time and clear his brain to remind himself that he was not watching a porno film at this moment, that he was watching his own wife sucking the prick of a stranger who had come to make love to her in that bed with her husband watching.
And Bob was suddenly glad that Natalie and Tom were not looking at him, were not studying him as he studied them, for he knew that he was getting a blazing hard-on, that his cock was growing to hefty proportions in his pants. He wondered what Natalie would say if she knew that, if she knew that he was getting turned on just watching them, more turned on than he had ever gotten by watching a porn film because he did know that this was his wife, the woman that he loved, the woman that he wanted to hold to his body for the rest of his life. This was his wife and not some nameless actress in a film, and she was sucking on that cock like a pro.
And then Bob understood. He knew why he had really wanted his wife to come with him and do this for him. It had not been for some kind of intellectual reason. That thirst for sure and certain knowledge had all been a charade. He knew that by now. He had wanted to see his wife with another man because he had known that he would be turned on by the sight. His soul answered the kinkiness of the situation. And he was turned on because it was his wife, his Natalie, who was doing this.
The husband remembered the times that he had wondered what it was like, the times that he had tried to picture this sight in his mind since Natalie had confessed to him that she took lovers when she was away from him. He had imagined some things, but he had never imagined anything as sexy and as wonderful as this sight that was right before his eyes at that moment.
As Natalie sucked on Tom's cock, the man ran his hand up and down her back, pushing her pink, short nightgown up with his movement. Then he ran his hand into those pink panties, and Natalie took her mouth off the cock just long enough to sigh when he did that.
The prick was long and thick and hard now. She had done that with her mouth.
And Tom had another idea, another suggestion to make to the woman who was alone with him in that cabin.
"Let's get naked," he said.
And Bob, the husband, wanted to shout in agreement. "Yes! Yes! Get naked, you two! Get naked with him, Natalie! Nat! Get naked!"
But the man in the chair kept his mouth shut as the woman on the bed and the man who had joined her there moved up on the bed and quickly shook off their clothes.
When they were naked, Nat giggled girlishly and reached out and touched Tom as he touched her.
Bob pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his brow as Nat and Tom knelt there on the bed and touched each other softly. They looked almost like children, the husband thought. They looked like two people who were exploring each other in an attempt to find out what sex was all about Natalie's face was suddenly soft as she looked down at Tom's hands, the hands that massaged her breasts so tenderly. She ran her hands up and down the man's sides. Bob tried to remember if his famous wife had ever looked that soft, that child-like, that tender with him. Perhaps she had, he thought, soon after they were married, but she had not looked like that for years. Tom seemed to bring something out in her that Bob liked. He wondered if he would ever be able to bring out that feeling and that look in his life. "
Tom's cock was very hard and stood out from his body and Natalie reached down and again curled her fingers around it and stroked it and then she put her other arm around Tom's neck and pulled his face close to hers and kissed him with her soft mouth.
The husband saw the mouths open and the tongues move back and forth as Tom and Natalie looked at if they were trying to gobble each other up with their mutual passion.
And then the two of them tumbled back onto the bed and Tom moved quickly down Natalie's body and kissed and licked her as he traveled to her pussy. The woman with the dark hair spread her legs wide and sighed to her new lover, "Suck it, Tom. Suck my clit and lick out my cunt, you stud."
She had not called Bob a stud for years, not since those months right after they were married. The husband sighed when he heard his wife use that word to describe that man who had come to visit them in their cabin.
Tom buried his face in the woman's pussy and Natalie grabbed her tits and sighed with passion as he started to work his tongue into her cunt. Bob could not see that very well from where he sat. The husband almost got up, almost walked around the bed so that he could get a better view of the stranger going down on Natalie, of Tom's beard slapping against her own bearded pussy. But he kept his seat. He knew that he should not get up and disturb them. They had both forgotten that he was there, just as Tom had suggested that they should do. They were with each other now and concentrating on each other. Bob could hear the slurping sounds of Tom going down on Natalie, could hear the sighs that escaped from deep in his wife's throat. Those were the only sounds in that room at that moment and Bob did not want to disturb those sounds. He did not want to remind that couple that he was there with them. That was not part of his fantasy, and he knew that Natalie would be very angry with him if he broke into her sexual thrills at this moment, as Tom was preparing her for the fucking.
Then the bearded, young stranger turned on the bed with a kind of muscular grace. He re-positioned himself so that he was lying over the woman with his face still in her snatch. Then Bob could see it more clearly, the way that that man's tongue worked against Natalie's clit with such easy power. But the husband knew that Tom had not turned in order to give him a better show. His stiff cock was hanging down in Natalie's face at that moment, and everyone in that room knew what Tom wanted. He wanted the famous movie actress to give him a few more seconds of sucking with her mouth, to get him really hard before they started to fuck with all of the desire that they shared in their bodies and their souls.
Bob heard the girlish slurping of his wife's sucking and he closed his eyes and sighed again. She was doing just what that bearded stranger wanted her to do because she was enjoying this sex too. He did not remember when he had even seen Natalie so free and wild and abandoned in her love-making. She seemed to read the stranger's movements perfectly and she seemed to want what he wanted exactly. Natalie and Tom made a perfect match, Bob thought. No words were exchanged now. They were too much in tune. They did not need any words at all.
Then, like two members of an orchestra that was playing the same, simple symphony, the two people on the bed moved again.
At the same instant, the sucking and the slurping and the licking stopped and the two people moved on the bed, moved into another position, the perfect fucking position. Tom lay on his back and Natalie moved over him and held his cock and sat down slowly on that prick. The actress gasped as the member slid easily into her love-hole.
"Oh, that feels so good," she said.
And she took all of that cock into her as Tom reached out and put his hands on her thighs and steadied her. She slid down until the prick was deep in her' twat and then eased herself onto Tom's hairy, strong body.
Bob had never fucked her like that. That was the thought that came to the husband immediately when he saw that position. He had never fucked her with her on top. When they made love, he had always gotten on top and churned his cock into her and she had never looked that comfortable when they had done it like that. But she looked comfortable now as Tom moved around on the bed. He moved on his back, like some kind of night fighter in a way who was trying to get somewhere without being detected by the enemy, and he carried Natalie with him. Bob knew then that Tom had not forgotten that he, the husband, was there. He was moving so that Bob could see more easily the way that his wife moved on that cock, and Bob felt a sense of appreciation well up in his throat. This guest of his was a very good friend indeed, he thought.
Then Bob had a side view of the fucking, and he looked at the two people there on the bed with a certain relish in his eyes. He could see his wife's fine, high tits, those breasts that thrilled him when they bounced and he could see her damp, warm thighs as she knelt there with the cock deep inside her and then he saw Natalie's hair puff up as she started to bounce and as Tom started to move under her. They were fucking and Natalie reached down and ran her fingers over Tom's hairy chest as they started to fuck in earnest. Tom held onto her thighs and drove his cock up into her pussy as he moved his hips up and down and Natalie rode him like a cowgirl on a bucking bronc. She spoke to her. lover with words that were soft with passion.
"Oh, that feels good. Fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Oh, fuck me, you stud. That feels so good. I want that cock in me forever."
And Tom chuckled with masculine glee and fucked her as if he was willing to fuck her forever and a day.
Bob had to admit it. He had never seen his wife so happy before. The woman seemed to be almost beside herself with joy, sexual joy, fucking joy. Then he understood why she took lovers. It was not that Natalie was a whore, he decided. It was this kind of joy that she was searching for when she fucked other men, the kind of joy that she might have had with him when they were first married but the kind of joy that had evaporated from their marriage over the years. He wondered how often Natalie found such joy with other men. From the way that she was acting right now, he suspected that it was not too often. He suspected that most of her lovers were not as good and as kind as this man who fucked her and bucked against her right then.
At first, Tom had been fucking her with speed and earnest movement, but now he slowed down. The bucking stopped and instead Natalie just seemed like a girl out for a Sunday afternoon ride on her favorite horse. Tom was her stallion, Bob thought. Her visiting stallion had come to give her a ride that night.
And she was enjoying that ride. She liked the easy gait of the fucking that she was getting now. She smiled down on her stallion and sighed as his cock worked its way in and out of her pussy with an easy, graceful force.
Then she started to ask Tom questions.
"Is this your fantasy too? Why do you like to do this?"
"Because you are a good fuck," he sighed with a grin.
"No," Natalie tried to explain. She glanced at her husband for just one split-second. "I mean with him watching. Why do you like to do it with a husband watching?"
Bob was shocked to be suddenly included in the group again. He felt strange. In one way, he was proud that Natalie had not forgotten that he was watching and he wondered if that fact added to her enjoyment of the sex that she was having with the man. But, in another way, he did not want to be included. He wanted to be a spy, a person who could see but who could not be seen.
And then Tom explained in a slow and easy tone just why he liked to do it this way, with a husband watching.
'I only did it once before," he said. "That was when I was just a kid and the couple were my neighbors, two people who lived next door to me back in Missouri."
"Where in Missouri?" Bob asked. He did not know Missouri very well, did not even remember if he had ever been to Missouri, but he suddenly wanted some kind of detail. The more details that Tom gave him, Bob thought, the more real the situation and the story would be for him. And, since he was already included in the group, had been included by Natalie's question, he wanted to make sure that the experience was completely real to his own mind.
"Victory, Missouri," Tom answered him, as if they were having the most normal conversation in the world, "a small town about a hundred miles south of St. Louis."
Then Tom looked back at" Natalie and told her the rest of the story. After all, she was the one who had asked that first, meaningful question.
"When I was fifteen years old, the woman next door seduced me. I must admit that I was easily seduced. She was very pretty and sexy and she was only about twenty-six or so herself. Then we started fucking regularly. I would visit her every afternoon after school and fuck her before her husband came home about five o'clock in the afternoon. But one day he came home early and I was very frightened when he walked in on us and saw me fucking away at his wife's pussy. But she just smiled at him and he smiled at her and then he sat down in a chair there in the bedroom and watched, and that turned me on. It turned me on more than anything else that had ever happened to me. After that, he would watch most of the time. I started fucking her later at night, visiting her about ten o'clock and fucking her while her husband watched us and then I would get up and go home and I was certain that they would fuck like crazy after I was gone."
"Sounds sexy," Natalie said.
Bob did not say anything. He just nodded his head in agreement.
But Tom probably did not notice that nod of the head, Bob knew. He was too busy fucking with that slow and easy motion and talking to Natalie, to Nat, his lover and Bob's wife.
"After I graduated high school, I went away to college and then I came to the West Coast and made a lot of money by investing other people's money. I was very lucky and I fucked a lot of women here, but none of them has ever meant as much to me as that first one meant, that woman with her husband. I guess I just wanted to recapture my youth with this experience and I could afford the money and I was sure-"
He paused and growled and then spoke to Natalie almost apologetically.
"I am sorry, Nat. I will have to fuck you faster now. I am just about ready to come."
"Oh, yes," she sighed. "Fuck me. Fuck me faster. Make me come too."
And then the hard bucking started again and, within seconds, both Tom and Natalie were filled with lust and on the verge of mutual, simultaneous orgasm. Bob felt forgotten again and he was sure that they were not giving him much thought. But, after hearing Tom's story, he knew that the couple had not forgotten him completely. He knew that his presence there was adding to their pleasure and their passion. He felt like a real part of the sex and yet he was not a part of it at all. There was something about the whole situation, he thought, that made him feel a little like God. And he liked that.
The sweat poured from Natalie's body onto Tom's and the movie actress tilted her head back and sighed and groaned and then she made hat strange, little rasping sound deep in her throat, the one that Bob recognized. She had often made that sound when they had first gotten married. It meant that she was coming. And Tom was tossing on the bed and driving his cock deeper and deeper into her and growling and Bob knew that that meant that the stranger was coming too.
Bob smiled, for he knew that he had played in .a part in this in a strange way. He knew a great deal now and he felt that he understood his own emotions and his wife's emotions for the first time. He knew what she was looking for when she took lovers and he knew what he had been looking for when he had suggested this experience, this cruise and he felt that their marriage could only be better for all the things that he had learned about himself and his wife.
And Bob was very grateful to his guest, to his friend. As the orgasms rushed through the couple on the bed, Bob lit a cigarette and took one draw on it and then frowned and crushed it out.
He would have to stop smoking and drinking and he would have to start working out on those weights that Natalie had given him. He wanted his wife to be very proud of him. He wanted his wife to call him a stud too.
CHAPTER THREE
Kristy and Jodi were two members of the strangest breed in the world. They were both show-business tykes, two young girls who had already made minor fortunes in commercials and television shows and movies. They were both sixteen years old and they had been in show business most of their lives and they were both California girls, used to the sun and drugs and fast past of Hollywood life.
And they were lovers too, lesbian lovers at sixteen.
Oh, they had both had men lovers too, boys and more mature men, and they had talked about those men together. They agreed that the men were usually sloppy and too fast in their love-making. They agreed that girls were better, more passionate and more soft, and they agreed that, for each of them, the other girl was the best lover of all.
That night, Kristy stood looking out the little window of her cabin and thinking about this cruise. It had been her idea to spend their money in this way because she had wanted this special kind of kinky experience with her lover. Kristy looked back at Jodi. Her lover was a cute, slim blonde with blue eyes and nice tits and a little, furry bush that almost made Kristy melt with she looked at it. Jodi was the ail-American girl next door, the girl who seemed to look best in California commercials for toothpaste and hamburgers. Kristy knew that she was a little more complex in her looks herself.
Kristy was dark. Her eyes were gray and flashing and her face was broad and open and cute. She liked to wear jeans and boy's shirts and she was the all-American girl as tom-boy. She knew that, no matter how old she got, people would still be saying that she would grow out of it, that she would develop an interest in boys any day now. She had developed a slight interest in boys a few years before, but she knew in her heart that her real interest was in girls-and she wondered sometimes if Jodi was really as much of a lesbian as she was. The blonde swore that she did not really like fucking boys all that much, but there was something about her that was too giggly and too fresh. Kristy was afraid that Jodi would wind up running off one of these days with some handsome, California stud, and then Kristy would be left all alone.
Jodi and Kristy lived together in their own Hollywood apartment. It had been no trouble for Kristy to move out of her house. She just paid her drunken mother off, gave her money and told her to go to Mexico and find herself some dark, young, Mexican lad to keep her happy. She sent her mother money every week to keep the woman in Mexico because she did not want to deal with that woman. And Kristy's father had been gone for years, since Kristy was a baby. He had just wandered away one day before his little daughter became famous and had gotten lost in the sea of people in Los Angeles. Kristy knew where he was now. He had been trying to communicate with her since he had discovered that his daughter was famous and wealthy. But he did not really know where to find her, and Kristy did not want him to know. She had to support one parent, she thought, and that was enough. And she sensed that she owed her mother some support. The woman had done her best to give the girl a happy home and she had stayed there and looked over Kristy for years. Her father had not even bothered to come and see her. The teen-aged girl hated that worthless man who had given her life with his sperm and then had forgotten about her.
But Jodi's home was more traditional, complete with two older brothers who lay around on the beach and tried to get into Kristy's pants when she had come to visit her blonde friend. Her traditional parents were living off her success too, but they liked to think that Jodi was just a nice part of their family, and they had been a little perturbed when their sixteen-year-old daughter had announced her intentions to move into an apartment with her girlfriend. But, naturally, her parents never knew the truth about Jodi's relationship with Kristy. Parents often did not know the truth. Kristy knew that most parents could not handle too much truth from their children. They wanted to be left in the dark about most things.
The truth was that Jodi and Kristy had been lovers for more than a year, ever since they had done that made-for-TV movie together about girls in a reform school. In that movie, they had portrayed two girls who were bitter rivals and the character that Kristy played wound up cut up at the end of the movie by Jodi. But the two girls had actually grown to like each other during the making of that film. They were both professional, good young actresses and they liked to talk about their characters and their work.
Kristy had fooled herself during most of the filming of that movie. She told her mother that she had grown to love Jodi as if the girl was a sister. Kristy had never had a sister, of course, and she thought that maybe that was the way that sisters felt about each other. But she realized that a sister would not feel her pussy begin to leak juices when she saw her sister in a sexy bikini. During one of the scenes in that movie, the woman who ran the girls' reform school had taken the teen-aged inmates to the beach for the day. And there, on the beach, Kristy and Jodi had to fight each other. They were both in bikinis when they did it and they had had to spend most of the day shooting that battle scene to get it right. Kristy did not know what that scene would do to those people in the television audience, but she knew what it did to her. She was almost exhausted from her own sexual tension after that scene was over, and she thought that she sensed in Jodi's eyes that same kind of sexual exhaustion, that same kind of pent-up lust. That is when she asked Jodi if she could visit her that night for a drink.
The entire cast and crew were staying in a motel during the filming that was being done on location at a real girls' school. Kristy and Jodi had separate motel rooms and they had rarely talked to each other off the set before that night. But Jodi said that she did have some liquor in her room. She had smuggled it in because she needed it to relax at the end of the day's shooting. Now Kristy told Jodi that she would need something to relax too, and Jodi grinned her all-American grin and invited her over.
When she remembered that night, Kristy was not certain if she had gone there With love-making in mind. But she knew that she wanted to be near Jodi that night, and she sensed that she had something more than liquor in mind.
Kristy had knocked on the door about eleven o'clock that night and Jodi had opened it with a glass in her hand. She offered the drink to Kristy immediately and the dark-haired girl had smiled and said thanks.
But, as she walked into the room, she was not thinking of the drink that Jodi had given her. She did not even drink that much. The taste of booze did not appeal to her. She was looking at the blonde girl who had offered to visit with her that night, the one that she had battled in front of the cameras for most of the day. Jodi was wearing a bikini, a white bikini that showed off her tan, and she seemed like the ultimate, pretty, California girl. She was the kind of girl that any father would like to have for a daughter, Kristy found herself thinking, and then she remembered that her own father had run away from her when she was just a little baby.
Kristy sat with Jodi on the bed and they talked about their dreams and the movies that they had made and the things that they wanted to do when they got a little older, and, naturally, the conversation turned to boys. When Kristy asked Jodi if she had ever fucked a boy, the little blonde had giggled and waved her hand in the air.
"Oh, lots of them," she said. "I started fucking when I was thirteen. You see, I was making a movie with this director, a very famous one from Europe, and he sort of liked young girls and I thought that I might as well get started right then. So I went over to his apartment one night and I guessed I sort-of seduced him in my own bumbling manner. We wound up in bed and we fucked like crazy until dawn. I loved it."
Then she looked at her co-star and grinned.
"How about you, Kristy?" she asked.
By that time, the dark-haired girl was a little embarrassed by her own lack of experience. She had fucked one guy, a young, blonde guy who had made a commercial with her about six months before and then had asked her out on a date. But she had to admit that she had not liked it when he fucked her. It had been all right, but there was nothing very exciting about seeing and feeling a cock in you, she thought.
But she could not tell Jodi that. She knew that she would have to let the girl know that she too had had experience with men. If she told Jodi the truth, she thought, the blonde might think that there was something very wrong with her co-star and Kristy did not want that girl to think that there was anything wrong with her. Suddenly it seemed very important to the young actress that this blonde like her and think that she was the most normal girl in the world.
So she made up stories. She made up the stories without even thinking. She talked about the blonde guy that she had really fucked and she talked about the curly-haired guy who played her brother on a television series that had been on the air for about six weeks before it was cancelled and she talked about beach bums and the sons of producers and other men that she had met. She turned them all into lovers, and, when she was finished with her talking, she looked down and noticed that her glass was empty. That surprised her. She had not remembered taking one sip of the liquor and yet she had drank it all.
And Jodi was beaming at her.
"Wow, Kristy!" the blonde said, taking her glass and going toward a little table to refill it. "You certainly have had a lot of experience."
The liquor seemed to hit the dark-haired girl all at once. She felt woozy and happy and she leaned back on the bed and giggled and explained to her new friend her philosophy of life.
"I figure that I am very lucky," she said. "I am young and I have some money and I figure that I should use it to have fun while I am still young enough to enjoy it. I don't think that there is anything that I wouldn't try."
Jodi turned around and held the glass against her bikini top and smiled at her dark-haired co-star when she said, "I agree, Kristy. I feel the same way. There is nothing that I would not try. I like to have fun with all kinds of people."
And there was something in the way that blonde had smiled at her when she said that that made Kristy shiver with joy. She lay there and looked up at the girl in the bikini and she was suddenly sorry that she had not worn a bikini too. She was just wearing a pair of jeans and an old work shirt, her usual lounging around clothes and she felt very hot in those clothes there in that air-conditioned motel room.
"Yeah," she muttered and she knew that she was smiling at Jodi in a way that she had never smiled at anyone else before in her life. There was a strange kind of electricity in the air and the room seemed very stuffy with something that was not girlish at all. Kristy felt very mature and she lay there and watched at her new, blonde friend set the glass of liquor down on the table again and turned and smiled at Kristy and reached behind her own body and loosened the top of the bikini. She took off that bikini and then she smiled at Kristy again. She pushed the bottom of that white bikini down her firm, young legs and stepped out of it and then stood there naked in front of her girl. She put her arms on top of her head and her fine, little tits were lifted up with that motion and then she turned around slowly so that her friend could look at all of her body. When she faced Kristy again, the dark-haired girl concentrated her attention on that muff of soft hair that grew over Jodi's pussy. Then
Kristy gulped. She knew what her friend wanted and she knew that she wanted it too, but she did not know how to go about it. She was smiling and she was trying to show her new, blonde friend that she was filled with mature knowledge about sex, but she sensed that Jodi saw through her soft, girlish bravado to the frightened child that was really in there. And she sensed that that frightened child in her was actually making Jodi want her more.
"Don't worry, Kristy," Jodi finally said. "It will be real easy. And you want it, don't you?"
"Yes, I do want it," the dark-haired girl said.
"And all those stories you told were not true at all, were they?"
"No. All of those stories were lies, except one. I did it once with a guy and I did not like it that much."
When Jodi grinned at her and moved toward her, Kristy felt suddenly free. She felt that she had told this girl the truth about her life and Jodi had accepted it. Kristy knew that very few other people had accepted the truth about her life, and she felt very warm toward this new friend of hers. She almost wanted to cry because she knew that Jodi knew a truth about her that she herself had not known until now. She knew that Jodi was going to show her a lot of truth about herself before this night was over.
And Kristy wanted to know all the truth about herself that she could possibly know. She wanted to know just what it felt like to make love to a sexy girl like Jodi.
The dark-haired girl moved to the edge Of the motel room bed and sat there and waited for her naked friend to join her. The liquor no longer made her head swim. There was just a softness in her head, the kind of softness that she liked. Jodi walked, to the door and latched it and then walked softly to the bed and sat down next to Kristy. She sat very close to her co-star and she ran her hand over the girl's thigh. Then she moved her hand up and let her soft fingers flutter over the shirt that the girl wore. like magic, she opened that shirt with that easy fluttering of her fingers and she helped Kristy take off the shirt. Then she threw the shirt across the room and turned and looked at Kristy's tits. The dark-haired girl had not worn a bra when she had come to visit her new friend and she was suddenly happy that she had not.
Kristy and Jodi turned so that they were looking at each other. Jodi was naked and Kristy's tits were bare. Jodi touched Kristy first, continued to be the seducer of the pair. She put her hands on the girl's tits and massaged them with a gentle, circular motion. Kristy sighed and put her hands on Jodi's tits and did the same thing to her new friend and then the two girls had brought their faces together and had kissed each other with soft and girlish passion. It was wonderful, Kristy thought, so much better than the way that that boy had mauled her a few months before. It was the best thing that could possibly happen to a girl and she found herself wishing that the movie was really true, that she and Jodi were locked in a reform school together. They would not be enemies though, she thought, they would be friends, lovers, and they would never need any other person in that reform school. They would be special to each other and they would offer each other solace in that special way that girls could offer each other the pleasure, the soft pleasure that a girl really needed in her life.
The two of them had made love that night and Kristy had fallen in love. She had never known such happiness as Jodi gave her that night. The blonde seemed to be so accepting and so kind.
After the made-for-television movie had been completed, the two girls had continued to see each other, to make love to each other on soft, warm California nights. When the film came out, there was a cry for more movies with the two of them in it. There was a certain chemistry between these two girls, one critic had said, that made the most mundane material seem alive with meaning. And they had just finished making another made-for-television film, this one about two girls who run away from home during the 1930's and find out that true life is not pretty. The network had scheduled that one for the fall during the first sweep week of the new season, because the executives were sure that it would get a good rating. The movie was filled with all the strange, sexy things that television audiences loved. Two girls swim in a lake together and Jodi even got raped at one point in the film. It was after the rape that the two girls in the film, the girls that Kristy and Jodi portrayed, understood that they had to hang together and protect each other because they were all that either of them had in that cold, cruel world.
That was the message of the film-togetherness. It was also a little feminist because the two girls decided that they could conquer the world if they had each other. They did not run off with men. Kristy had liked that message for reasons that most of the members of the television audience would never suspect.
They had used part of the money that they had made from that film to take this cruise. The whole thing had been Kristy's idea. It was really her fantasy more than Jodi's, she thought, but her blonde lover had been very understanding, as usual, and had gone along with the idea because she could tell just how much the whole thing meant to Kristy.
Now they were waiting in their cabin for the message, telling them what cabin they should visit, what man waited for them where.
They were dressed in identical outfits, white shorts and white halter-tops that showed off their California tans. They were like sisters, Kristy thought, strange and kinky sisters who understood each other very well.
Kristy turned and looked at her lover.
"I wish it were really my father," she said softly. By that time, she had been truthful with Jodi for so long that she could not keep any idea to herself. "I wish that it was really my father who was going to be in there with us. I hate that bastard. I want to show him that I don't need him at all."
Jodi sighed.
"Kristy, the idea is to make believe that it is your father. You have to believe that it is your father and then it will be for all intents and purposes. You will show him tonight. We will both show him."
She had tried to explain that to her friend at least a dozen times, that the fantasy would not work until you really got it into your head and kept it there. Kristy was still not as experienced as Jodi in the ways of sex. And she never would be, the blonde thought. Sometimes, Jodi thought of her friend as a little girl who had to be led by the hand through the world, and sometimes she hated the idea that Kristy depended too much of her and would not allow her to have her own, little fantasies. For example, she thought, at that moment she had been thinking of what the experience would mean to her, had been developing her fantasy, one that she had never told Kristy about at all. And she was a little irritated that her dark-haired friend had interrupted her fantasy. She felt like a mother whose child would not leave her alone when she was trying to do the housework. Since she had been living with Kristy, she had begun to understand the reasons for child abuse in the American home. If she were that girl's mother, she thought often, she would certainly beat the girl with anger at least once or twice a week.
But she still loved the dark-haired girl, and she reminded herself that she had really started the relationship. She had been the one who had read" Kristy's yearnings in the dark-haired girl's eyes and she was the one who had seduced the girl. And she did love Kristy in a strange way. She liked making love to the girl and being around her and she felt very protective of her. But, still, sometimes she wanted to ring the girl's neck.
There was a knock at the door. Neither girl moved for a second and then Jodi sighed again and went to the door and opened it. The steward handed her the piece of paper that they had been expecting and Jodi closed the door and opened it the paper and read it.
"Which cabin?" Kristy asked, her voice soft with expectation and sudden excitement that bordered on fear. "Which cabin is he in?"
"Cabin A," the blonde said. Then she looked at her dark-haired friend and decided that she would help Kristy one last time with her fantasy. "Your father is in Cabin A, Kristy," she said. "My father?" the girl asked.
"Your father. He is waiting there in Cabin A and he wants to see both of us."
"My father," the girl mumbled.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes. I guess so."
"Then let's go."
As Jodi opened the door for her, Kristy tried to remember the truth. That was not really her father down there. That was some strange man who had a fantasy that matched her own and she and Jodi were going to give him something as they gave each other something. But was that the truth? She remembered what Jodi had told her. That had to be her father down there. She had to think of that man as her father in order to get all the pleasure of the situation that she could. Her father, she repeated in her mind.
Her worthless, ass father, the man who had left Kristy when she was just a little baby, was down there in Cabin A waiting for them. And they would show that man. They would show him just what kind of girl his famous daughter had become and they would show him that she certainly did not need a father, especially a father such as he was. She did not need a father because she had her lover, her blonde and sexy girlfriend. That was better than having both parents. She would have gladly sacrificed both her father and her mother for Jodi's blonde, sweet love. That is what she would show her father, the man down in Cabin A.
Jodi held her friend's hand as they walked down the hallway. Then they stood in front of the door to cabin A for a few seconds.
"Ready?" the blonde asked.
Her friend nodded her head with a quick and certain motion. Her father, Kristy thought, that was her father in there waiting for them and they would show him that Kristy did not need any father or any man at all any longer. He would see that and then he would just go away and leave them alone.
Just as they had been told, the door to Cabin A was unlocked. Jodi opened it and then stepped aside for Kristy to enter first. It was dark in there and Jodi flipped on the light as she closed the door behind her and her friend and latched it.
The cabin was just like their own, spacious with a big bed. It was expensive. The man in the room had paid a lot of money to have his fantasy fulfilled too, the blonde girl thought.
But neither of the girls could see the man in the room. That was part of the fantasy too. They were supposed to act as if this were their cabin. They were supposed to act as if they were alone in that cabin, alone in the world with just each other for solace and kindness and love. Kristy remembered that and looked back and saw Jodi and smiled. It was not going to take much acting on her part, she thought. That was just the way that she felt. She felt that she no one in the world except the blonde who stood there and smiled back.
But then the dark-haired girl looked at the big closet that ran along the side of the cabin. There was a long mirror in that closet and she knew that the man was there, looking at them from behind that mirror. She knew that it was a special mirror. On the other side, it was just plain glass and the man there-her father, she had to remember-could see everything that she and Jodi did together there on that bed. She smiled at the mirror and then sat down on the bed and beckoned Jodi to her with her finger. Jodi almost bounced to the bed as she moved toward her lover with an enthusiasm that was strangely young and innocent.
They had their act worked out already. It would be easy for the two of them. They were both trained to say lines as if they meant them and they both meant most of these lines very much.
Jodi sat down next to her friend.
"Well," she said, "we are finally alone. All of those boys at the party made me feel all strange. They were all looking at you, Kristy. They all wanted to fuck you. It did not seem like any of them wanted to fuck me. I must say that I m a little jealous but I guess that I will have to get used to having such a sexy friend."
By the time that she had finished that little speech, her hand was resting on the dark-haired girl's bare thigh. Kristy smiled at her.
"They wanted to fuck you too. They thought that you were very sexy, and they were right."
"But boys don't know how to give a girl the fun that she-likes to have, do they, Kristy?" Jodo asked as her fingers started to work on the girl's thigh.
"No," the dark-haired girl sighed, "they don't know anything about how to give a girl fun. It takes another girl to understand that. like you understand me, Jodi."
And then Kristy put her hand on Jodi's firm, tanned thigh and felt that soft flesh and she was not acting at all when she said the next line.
"I love you, Jodi," she whispered, looking into her friend's blue eyes.
"I love you too, Kristy," Jodi replied.
This was something that no one would ever see in a made-for-television movie, Jodi thought, but this was truth, a strange kind of Hollywood truth. And it was a shame that the audiences out there in Akron and Des Moines were not ready for such truth, such softness between girls. Jodi knew that it was true out there too, that girls in Little Rock and Tulsa and Iowa City all found love with other girls, but the television executives knew that they could not say that and still keep the government off their necks. It was really a shame, the blonde thought, and that is what made television such a lie, such a great, American lie.
But this was not a lie, and now she and
Kristy were going to experience some of the great truth of their lives together, in front of that mirror and on this bed. They had paid money to be able to experience that truth.
Jodi ran her hand up Kristy's body and moved her fingers lightly over her friend's halter-top. Then she put her arm around Kristy's shoulders and pulled the girl to her and kissed her with a soft, truthful kiss. Their mouths opened and their tongues moved together and both of the girls sighed with their soft and lusty passion. Then they fell back on the bed and spread their legs and ran their fingers over each other's bodies as they kissed and held each other.
This was the reason why Jodi put up with so much childish possessiveness from her dark-haired lover. She always remembered why when they started to make love. Jodi liked boys too, liked them more than she would ever be able to admit to Kristy, but she also knew that she got a special kind of feeling from her lesbian lover that she did not get from a boy. She hoped that she would never have to truly decide which one she liked more. She would have trouble because both Kristy and the boys that she fucked on the side-the ones that her friend did not know about-gave her something that she needed.
Both Kristy and the boys gave her a wild passion, a passion that got rid of all the pent-up feelings that she had inside her soul. She remembered the way that her mother and her father had tried so many times to get her to go to confession because they were both Catholics. She had gone a couple of times when she was just a girl and had not known how to fight for her soul, but then she had refused because she felt that it was none of that priest's business what she did with her body and her mind. She knew that those priests were as hung up as anyone else, even more hung up, and she did not want to sit in a little box and tell the priest things that would come back to him that night when he lay on his little bed and beat his fucking meat. She thought that that was particularly dirty, the dirtiest thing that she could think of.
That was the reason for her fantasy, the one that she knew she could never tell Kristy about. She had developed her own fantasy when Kristy and she had talked about taking this short cruise and doing this kinky thing with a man looking at them. She knew that Kristy wanted to believe that that man was her father. Jodi wanted to believe that that man was a priest, a filthy priest who was watching them as he stroked his cock. That priest, she thought, would have to admit to his own filthy fantasies too, and knowing that made Jodi feel very proud of herself.
But, as she kissed her friend and felt Kristy's body with her hands, she forgot about the priest in the closet for a moment and concentrated on he r lesbian lover, the girl who sought so much from her, the girl who needed her so much. She loosened that girl's halter-top and ran her hands under the material and felt those soft, firm tits. Kristy's tits were a bit bigger than her own and she liked the feel of those jugs in her hands. She knew too that Kristy liked it when she touched her breasts. She always sighed with that first touch. When she sighed this time, Jodi put her mouth over Kristy's and ran her tongue deep into the girl who was her favorite co-star.
Someday, the blonde thought, if movies for television ever grew up enough to allow for truth on the little screen, she and Kristy would have to make a movie about the priests, the real and horny priests who wanted to listen to young girls and women tell stories about their sexual adventures. That would be a great movie and that would be a movie that was filled with truth, the blonde thought.
Jodi worked skillfully on her friend, turning Kristy on as she stripped the girl. She pulled the halter-top off Kristy and then turned for a second back to that mirror and smiled at her reflection in that glass, smiled at the priest who was back there. Then she lowered her lips to her friend's tits and started to lick on one of the pink, sweet nipples. She licked on it with a slow passion as she felt her cunt tremble with the idea that that priest back there was getting just what he wanted, was getting just the kind of show that he deserved.
The blonde sucked the nipple into her lips and she heard her dark-haired sigh. She felt Kristy's fingers go to the little string that held Jodi's halter-top on. Those fingers untied that string and then the dark-haired girl paused to sigh some words of lust to her female lover.
"Oh, just keep sucking, Jodi," Kristy moaned. "That feels good. It feels better than any boy's mouth could feel on my tit."
Jodi knew that Kristy was saying that for the priest in the closet. The dark-haired girl had only had one boy sucking on her tit and that had been the young actor who had fucked her so roughly a few months before the two girls had first made love. The blonde knew that Kristy did not really know how good a man's lips could feel on her nipple if that man knew how to work. She did not know how good a beard could feel when it moved against a girl's flesh. There was a lot that Kristy did not know, the blonde thought, but Jodi knew and she knew that that priest in the. closet would have wanted to ask her all about what she knew if she had gone to confession with him.
Now, she thought, that priest would have to confess something and he would have to admit that he was being turned by the sight of two sexy, teen-aged girls getting it on in front of him. He would have to confess that to some other priest.
Jodi took her mouth away from the nipple and looked down at it. It was bumpy with girlish lust.
Then the blonde sat up on the bed and took off her halter-top and turned and pointed her own tits, at the priest. She ran her hands over the tits and grinned at the priest that she knew was in that closet. She spoke to Kristy even as she looked at that mirror.
"Do you like to suck my tits, Kristy?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," the dark-haired girl murmured softly.
"I like it when you suck my tits. I like it when you suck my clit too and when you drive your tongue deep into my young pussy. You lick a pussy better than any man in the world, Kristy."
"Your pussy is so sweet, Jodi," Kristy said, reaching up and running her fingers down her friend's tanned back. "It is as sweet as candy. I love eating the candy of your cunt."
"Yes," Jodi murmured, still looking in the mirror, "and I love eating the candy of your cunt too. We both have candy cunts, Kristy."
Then Jodi looked back at her friend and grinned impishly.
"Let's take off our shorts and show each other our candy cunts," she suggested.
"All right," Kristy said, smiling and getting into the fun of the game. She knew that the man was there too. He was her father and she wanted her father to see her candy cunt. She wondered for a second if that cunt would remind her father of her mother's pussy, of the thing that he had fucked to make Kristy, the baby that he left behind. She hoped that it would and she hoped that her father understood that she would use her cunt in any way she wanted to. She hoped that her father looked at Jodi when the blonde licked out his daughter's cunt and thought that no man would ever make a baby in that pussy and then leave mother and child behind. No man would ever treat his daughter the way that he had treated his woman, his wife, her mother.
The two girls jumped up from the bed and loosened their white shorts and pushed them down. Neither of them wore panties. When they stepped out of their shorts, they were both naked. Kristy looked down at Jodi's pussy. She truly loved looking at that sweet thing. The hair was so light in color. Kristy's cunt-hair was dark and heavier over her snatch.
Jodi suddenly got another idea. She fell back on the bed and she giggled as she spoke to her lover.
"Lie down here next to me, Kristy," she said. "Lie on your back and spread your legs. I want to see your pussy in that mirror and I want you to see my pussy there too."
Of course, Kristy thought they were doing it for her father who was in there watching, but that was all right with her. She wanted her father to see her opened, candy-sweet cunt.
The two girls lay on their backs and spread their legs and split their furry, young beavers for the man in the closet. That would give the priest something to confess, Jodi thought. He would have to tell another priest about how he looked at two, fine, young, lesbian cunts and how that had turned him on like nothing had ever turned him on before.
Kristy and Jodi both giggled when they did that. Both girls put their hands on their pussies and spread the lips wide so that the pinkness within shone. And both girls looked at the pussies in the mirror. They were both so pink and so young and so wet in there. They glistened together like two trees in a rain forest, Kristy thought.
And then, when they had shown their cunts to the mirror, they moved together on the bed and started to make love in naked and lusty ways.
Jodi moved onto her friend's body and lay on Kristy as a boy would lie on a girl and Kristy's legs went up and around her blonde friend's tanned, sexy body. And then they started to hump each other. They kissed each other and moved together and moaned together.
"Oh, Kristy, your pussy feels so good."
"I can feel your juices leaking down into my cunt, Jodi. Those juices are so warm. I love your juices, Jodi."
"I love the way that your body moves under mine. Your tits are soft and sexy."
"God, I can feel your clit in my cunt."
"Yes, I am fucking you with my clit."
"Oh, fuck me, Jodi! Fuck me!"
Jodi had an extremely long clit for a girl and, when it got hard and juicy and filled with lust, it felt like a little cock, a vibrating, sexy, little cock. The blonde knew that her dark-haired friend loved that stiff and sexy clitoris more than she could ever love a real cock. Jodi moved the clit against Kristy's smaller clit and the two girls sighed and humped like crazy, fucking each other as they both began oiled with passion cream.
But Jodi did not want to come that way and she did not want Kristy to come that way either. She took complete control of the sexy scene as she had taken control on that first night when she had made love to this girl who had wanted so much without even realizing that she wanted it. She moved on the bed, tearing out of the hold that Kristy had on her with her arms and legs and she moved Kristy around too. The girl was too happy with passion to fight her. They moved so that the man in the mirror could see it all and then Jodi moved over the girl and pressed her own sweet cunt down on Kristy's face as she moved her tongue to that candy snatch of her friend. Then the two girls started to lick and slurp and suck with teen-aged passion for each other.
Jodi ran her tongue around the pink folds of the cunt and then spread those lips and found Kristy's clit and sucked that clit into her mouth. By that time, she knew how her friend liked it and she gave her friend the best sucking ever. She bit on the little morsel of flesh just hard enough to make the girl tense with passion and then she sucked. She bit and then sucked. It was as if she were giving her sexy friend a bit of pain, she thought, and then sucking that pain out of her. That was the way that Kristy liked to be handled down there. As she bit and sucked, Jodi worked her finger into the sweet, little hole, the cunt that had only been fucked by one boy. She played around in that cunt and bit and sucked as she felt her dark-haired friend go to work on her soft cunt with equal fervor.
And the blonde hoped that the priest in the closet was feeling really dirty with lust by then.
While Jodi worked on her cunt just the way that she liked, Kristy ran her tongue deep in; the blonde's candy-hole. She worked her tongue around in there, knowing that it was warm and filling her up with passion. She ran her hands over Jodi's rounded butt and slipped those fingers into the girl's ass, just as Jodi liked for her to do. She invaded one hole with her tongue while she invaded the other hole with her fingers and she knew that she was pleasing her blonde lover.
That was what was great about her relationship with Jodi, the dark-haired girl thought as she worked on the girl with such sexy passion in her fingers and in her tongue. She and her friend had tried out new things and discussed how they felt about them until they had found just the right things for each other. They had gotten to know each other that well. She wondered if her father, the man with the closet, had ever discussed such things with any of the women that he had fucked, if he had ever discussed such things with her mother. Probably not, she thought. That bastard did not care about a woman's pleasure. He just wanted to get his rocks off and get a woman pregnant with a baby girl and then leave her high and dry to fend for herself. That bastard did not care at all about the women that he fucked, not as Jodi cared about Kristy and as Kristy cared about Jodi. She knew that she was teaching that man a lesson with this show, a lesson that he would never forget. And she determined that she would open that closet and demand some sort of explanation from him when she was finished with Jodi. She would humiliate him even more right in front of her blonde lover. Her father owed her an explanation, she thought. She wanted to know why that man had run off and left her stranded in the world and left her mother to drink out her life until she could finally afford to get some young man that would give her the kind of pleasure that she had always wanted from him.
Kristy felt very proud of herself. Because of her success, her mother could hire Mexican boys and train them to fuck her and care about her just a little bit. Her mother deserved at least some caring in life, the girl thought.
But then all thoughts of her mother and even her father vanished from Kristy's mind as she felt her own orgasm coming. Jodi was giving it to her. The dark-haired girl pulled her tongue out of the blonde's cunt as slapped that tongue against that long and lovely clit and she knew that that would make Jodi come too. She knew just what she had to do to please her friend. She dug her fingers more deeply into that sweet ass-hole and hit the clit with her tongue and then she came and Jodi came and the room was filled with girlish, sexy, lustful squeals as the two young lovers came together.
"Fucking priest," Jodi muttered as she had her orgasm.
"Daddy," Kristy sighed.
And then it was over. The lust and the experience and the show were all over. Kristy turned and looked at the mirror again and remembered her resolve to face her father and demand an explanation of some kind from him. She pushed her sexy friend off her body and jumped up and walked to the closet. She opened the door quickly, because she knew that, if she waited very long, even a few seconds, she would lose her nerve.
She looked down on the man, and then she remembered that he was not her father at all. He was a very handsome stranger and he was sitting on a stool in that closet naked. His cock was hard and long in his hand, but she could see the white stream like a thread hanging off the end of it and she knew that that meant that he had just come, that he had probably come when she and Jodi had come.
Even though she knew that that man was not her father, the question was out of her before she could stop the words from flowing. They burst from her as his cock cream had burst from his prick just a few seconds before.
"Why did you leave me when I was a baby, Daddy? Why did you leave me all alone? Why did you leave mother to drink her life away?"
The man looked up, startled by the questions. He didn't know what to say. So he just smiled at the girl.
"Hi," he said, trying to be friendly with her although he was a little unnerved by this confrontation, "my name is Jack."
Kristy sighed and felt a little silly. She knew that her father's name was Al. She smiled at him and tried to overcome her own embarrassment.
"Hello, Jack," she said.
Jodi sat up on the bed and actually waved at him.
"Hi, Jack," she said, "I hope that we gave you what you paid for." The man chuckled.
"You two certainly did that," he assured Jodi. "You two are very sexy girls and you really seem to care for each other."
"We do," Kristy said honestly with a nod of her head. "Jodi and I love each other, Jack."
Jodi lay back on the bed and felt a little downhearted. The priest was not wearing his collar, she thought, and that ruined it just a little bit for her. She looked at the man. He was handsome, but she wished that he had worn something to show himself as a priest.
But he had worn nothing at all. He was sitting there naked in the closet.
CHAPTER FOUR
The black girl was a singer, a very popular singer, but she knew that she probably would not last in the fast-paced world of popular music. In a few years, a few months maybe, she would go out of style. She was not one of the ones who would always be around, making hit after hit and selling out big auditoriums for concerts when they are fifty or even sixty. She would be finished by the time that she was thirty. She was certain of that. She was twenty-six now.
So she had saved her money, the big batches of money that she had made from the concerts that she sold out now and the records that they played all the time on the radio. Her name was Donna and she was very sexy. She knew that that was part of her appeal.
But she was also black, a product of Detroit's slums, and she kept thinking about those slums even as she sang about love for all mankind and getting it on in the middle of the night. She wanted to make sure that she did not wind up back in those slums again, although, sometimes, late at night, she would awake in a cold sweat because she felt that she had been too lucky, that she was still black and that she still belonged back there in the ghetto.
She had saved her money but she had spent a little of it for this cruise because she had some demons to work out in her soul. She had never told anyone else about the things that she thought about, dreamed about on warm, California nights. She would never have had the courage to tell anyone about the dreams that she had. She had to keep reminding herself that she could not be weak in the world of show business. She had to keep reminding herself that she had to make sure that nobody stepped on her in that world. They would never respect her and give her what she deserved if she told them about the dreams that she had.
But tonight she would make those dreams come true and then she would go back to the recording studio in a few days and sing some more songs about what a hot momma she was and hot sure she was of herself, and she would believe those songs because she would have purged herself of those dreams on this night.
The black girl stood in front of the mirror naked and started to hum one of her songs to herself. She started to dance. People liked to dance when they heard her music and she liked to dance too. She thought that her big, black tits looked very sexy when they bounced like that. She pursed her lips and flirted with her own black reflection in the mirror. Her own blackness reminded her of Leon, the black man that she liked with. Leon was big and imagine and he fucked well and he protected her when she went out on a concert tour. But she had never even told Leon about her secret fantasies. It would have hurt his feelings if he had known that she dreamed about a man that was so different from him. Sometimes, while she was fucking Leon, she closed her eyes and made believe that that different man had come to her and was fucking her. But it was never really true in her head. Leon was so big and so black and there was that wonderful aroma that came from his black skin. It was wonderful, but it was not the kind of fresh aroma that she dreamed about.
Donna continued to dance until she heard the knock on the door. She knew that that was him. She had been told that he would arrive at her door and that he would be the one who would fulfill her fantasy because he had a similar kind of fantasy too. She wondered what he would look like as she turned and moved slowly, nervously to the door. She had described her fantasy man in detail to those who had interviewed her for this cruise. She wondered how close they had gotten to the fantasy man when they had found the real man who would help her.
She opened the door and looked at him. He fit the fantasy perfectly, she thought. She could hardly believe that he was there. She stepped back and let him enter her cabin and then she closed the door behind him.
Then she stood there and studied him in silence as he ran his own eyes over her naked, big-titted, black body.
He was a young man, really just a boy. He was probably no more than nineteen, but there was a look about him that told Donna that this boy was very sure of himself. And he had a right to be. He was a sexy, slim young with a deep tan and long, blonde hair and a flashing smile. He was one of those California boys, born wealthy and well-hung, who spent their lives seeking pleasure. His body was almost completely hairless. Donna took a deep breath. Yes, she thought, he smelled clean and fresh, just the way that she had wanted him to smell.
Then she finally spoke to him.
"Hi," she said, "I am Donna."
"I am Leif," he said.
"Leif," she said softly, repeating the name and thinking that it was a name that fight him. He was blonde and sexy and Nordic, as white as she was black. They would work well together, she thought.
The young man was wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that was it. He had come prepared for action, she thought, and she could see the bulge in those trunks. He was obviously well hung. She watched him as he moved to the bed and sat down there and smiled at her.
"Shall we begin?" he asked.
She nodded her black, pretty head.
"I think that we both want to start in the same way," he said.
Again, Donna nodded. She was certain that they did want the same thing. She was certain that she would want anything that this sexy, Nordic boy wanted. She stood there and watched him put his head in his hands. Sir quickly figured out what he was doing. He was getting into character for his fantasy and fo-hers. When he took his head out of his hands, that sure, masculine look was gone. He looked like a little, white boy, a frightened boy who wanted something that he himself did not understand. He opened his blue eyes wide and his mouth fell open and he spoke in that little-boy tone that she had often dreamed about. The tone and his words made her black cunt quiver with desire.
"Gosh, Donna," he said, "you sure are pretty, but I have never done anything like this before."
And Donna moved into character too. She would be the older, experienced woman, the black woman who was going to get this white boy in bed and show him the way to have some real fun. She moved to the bed and sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. Now that he was in character, he even seemed shorter, smaller, slighter, more like a boy than a man. He was just the way that she wanted him to be.
"Haven't you ever fucked a girl before?" she asked.
"No," he said softly, looking down at the black flesh of her thigh.
She put her hand on his leg and breathed on him when she asked her next question. "Not even a white girl."
"No."
"Oh, Leif, I am sure that there are a lot of girls who would like to fuck you. Why haven't you fucked any of them?"
"I never knew how. I was always-well, sort of afraid. I mean, what if I didn't do it right, Donna. I would be so embarrassed if I didn't do it right?"
"You just need someone to show you then, right, Leif?" she asked, moving her fingers up and down his leg.
"Yes, I need someone to show me," he muttered.
"Have you ever dreamed about fucking a black woman, Leif."
"Yes."
"Do you think that you would like to do that with me?"
"Yes, Donna. I have dreamed about fucking you before. I think that I dream about it nearly every night, Donna. You are so sexy. I would love to fuck you, if you would just show me."
The boy was one hell of an actor. She believed everything that he said in his hushed, wide-eyed tone. And she knew that he believed it too. She knew that, at that moment, he really believed that he had never fucked a girl before, although she was sure that he had probably fucked a lot of them, both black and white. And he was such a good actor that she seemed to know him. She thought of him as a friend, perhaps the son of one of her friends, some boy who had looked at her and thought about fucking her for months, maybe even years. Well, she thought, tonight he was going to get his chance. And his chance would be good for both of them.
Donna stood up and pulled Leif up too. They were the same height. She turned the boy so that he was facing her and she took his hands and put them on her black sides.
"Just feel me, Leif," she directed him. "Just run your fingers over my body and feel me. Feel my blackness. You can touch me anywhere that you want to touch me, Leif. I want you to get to know my black body while I get to know your body too."
The young man's hands were damp with sweat but they felt good on her body. He started to move those hands hesitantly, started to move his fingers over her flesh. Then he seemed to gain more self-confidence and his hands moved her quickly over her sides and her thighs and her stomach. Then he paused and looked at her with the question in his eyes. She almost collapsed with joy when he did that. He had that same look in his blue eyes that she had often dreamed about. She smiled at him and nodded her head and spoke.
"It is all right, Leif You can put your hands on my tits. In fact, I want you to. A woman-likes to have her tits felt by a sexy man like you."
Leif looked down at those big, black tits and then he did put his hands on them and he massaged them gently. When he had her tits in his hands, she began to touch him too. She ran her hands down his back and pulled him closer to her and kissed his mouth with her soft lips.
She was holding him firmly. In a way, she had him trapped there, just where she wanted him. She forced his mouth open with her tongue and licked the inside of his sweet, blonde sexiness.
Then she took her mouth away from his and held him close as he continued to rub her tits and she whispered to him with a voice that seemed to her to be filled with black lust.
"Feel my cunt, Leif. Put your hand on my cunt-hair and my pussy and feel it."
And the boy followed her. directions. He kept one hand on her tit and he slid the other hand down her black body and cupped her pussy and squeezed on it as she spread her legs and held onto him to keep from falling down with the passion that was in her body. The boy ran his finger into her pussy and then jerked it out.
"You are wet down there," he said. "Is that all right? Should you be wet down there?"
"Yes," she murmured to him as she kissed his neck. "Yes, I should be wet down there. I am wet down there because you are turning me on."
"Oh, wow!"
"Put your finger back in my pussy, Leif. Put it back in there and feel my wetness and work your finger around in that wetness, Leif. A girl-likes to be finger-fucked by a sexy stud like you."
Leif slipped his finger back into her pussy and worked it around in her as he moved back slightly. Donna kept her hands roaming over his body and finally she touched that bulge in his swimming trunks. It was hard with sexy, male life. It felt like some wonderful, little animal deep in his trunks, trying to get out.
It was then that she decided to move onto the next step in the seduction of her blonde, white, Nordic boy.
"Leif," she said, stepping back so that his finger slid out of her pussy, "I am naked, but you still have your swimming trunks on. You need to be naked too."
"Oh," he said, "I am sorry, Donna. I did not understand, I guess."
"That is all right," she said with a smile.
"Let me get them off for you."
And then the black girl dropped to her knees, in front of him. Before he pulled the trunks down, she touched the bulge again and she opened her lips and sighed. The bulge was so big and so hard, she thought.
She put her fingers under the waistband of the trunks and then she took a deep breath and started to pull those trunks down. She yearned to see that cock. She was sure that it would big and long and one of the best that she had ever had.
She worked the trunks down slowly, relishing each moment of expectation. She studied in detail the fine growth of cock hair that came into view first. It was soft and light brown, Nordic cock-hair, she thought. She pressed her lips to that hairy region and kissed it and she felt the prick that was still held down by the trunks gain even more strength from that kiss. She looked up at Leif and she saw him looking down at her. like the expert actor that he was, he was able to put all of the twisted emotions of a boy getting his first sexual experience into his expression. There was a little bit of fear there, but she .saw the pride too. He was proud that this woman was doing this for him, and she knew that his pride was greater because the woman who was pulling on his trunks was so sexy and so black.
She was like something exotic to him, even if he had fucked other black girls before. And she knew that he was exotic to her. She had fucked other white men but never a boy who fit her Nordic fantasy so well.
Finally, she looked back at the trunks and she pulled them down and the cock sprang out at her like a snake. It was hardening and it hit her in the face with its cool, semi-stiffness. That gave Donna another idea. Quickly, she pulled the boy's trunks down and held them for him to step out of them. Then she left the trunks on the floor and she put her hand around his cock and she leaned in close to it and she started to slap herself with that big piece of meat.
The prick was huge and long and gaining in strength with every slap that she gave her face. It was cool too and a little wet. She knew that some of the juices had probably already come out of the piss slit and that those juices had moved over his cock to lubricate it. She liked that slapping, that cool, hard, wet slapping on her black face.
But soon the slapping was not enough. She stopped hitting herself and held the prick in both of her hands and opened her mouth and moved over the cock. She closed her lips over the tip of the cock and she tasted that sweet Nordic flesh. The sweetness of the white boy's cock almost exploded in her head. She started to suck with speed and relish and she felt her pussy grow wet and tingling with sexual emotion. She wanted to get this boy as hard as she could and then she wanted to fuck him. In her mind, she thought that this boy had never fucked a girl before, had never been sucked like this before, and she wanted to give him such a good sexual session that he would want to fuck black girls every night.
When the cock was hard, she took her mouth off it and raised up slightly on her knees and looked up at Leif and beamed. As she smiled at him, she pressed her black nipple to the tip of the cock and slowly worked that wet, pink tip around on her soft, black skin.
"Do you like that, Leif? Do you like the way that my nipple feels on your cock?"
"Yes," he murmured.
He had been looking down at her and grinning, but, when she asked him that question, he had thrown his head back and had sighed the word. His long, blonde hair hung back from his scalp. He looked like a sexy, well-hung angel, she thought.
She lowered her lips to his cock again and kissed it one last time with a long kiss that involved a little bit of licking too. He sighed with passion when she did that. Then she stood up and she put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her and kissed his damp, trembling lips.
When that kiss was over, she spoke to him, to reassure the frightened, nervous but lusty boy that everything would be all right.
"I want to fuck you, Leif," she said to him, "because you are sexy and handsome. And I will show you how to fuck too. Then, after you have fucked me, you will be able to fuck other girls and make them come. Feel my cunt now, Leif. Feel how wet it is."
And the Nordic boy put his hand on her snatch and ran his finger into her again. She sighed and held him more tightly when she felt that invasion of her twat.
"Yes, Donna," he said, surprised, "it is even wetter than it was the last time that I felt it and I thought then that nothing could ever be wetter than that. It is like you have a flood in there, Donna, a black flood."
"Yes," she gasped, as he continued to move his finger around in her pussy, "it is a black flood, Leif. I am black and you are white and now you have your white finger in that black flood of mine. And I am flooding, Leif, because you are turning me on so much. I am flooding because I want to fuck you so badly."
"Really? You want it? Really?"
"Yes," she assured him. "I want it. I will die if you don't fuck me soon. That is the way that I feel right now. And other girls will feel that way about you too, Leif."
"Really?" he asked again, like a teen-ager, like a virgin boy, as his finger continued to work so smoothly in her black flood.
"Really," she gasped. "Oh, fuck me, Leif. Fuck my black pussy."
Gasping those words of passion, Donna pulled the boy to the bed and fell back with him on top of her. Leif started to crawl over her as she worked her way back on the bed. He kissed her sweaty, black flesh and she held him and kissed his white skin and then she spread her legs and reached down and grabbed that cock again, that long and meaty Nordic cock, and she guided that prick into her wet and juicy cunt.
"Fuck me, Leif," she sighed again. "Fuck my black, wet pussy, you stud."
When she got the tip of the cock into her, she raised her legs and tightened them around his body and felt his long, hard prick slip deep into her twat. Then she started to move her ass and she gave him some more directions, keeping up her game of virgin white boy and experienced black woman.
"Pull it back and forth in my pussy, Leif. That is the way that you fuck. Pull it back and forth in my hot, wet cunt." And Leif did just that. He raised up and started to grind his hips and press his loins against her body and then he started to fuck her with a mature, manly style. She ran her hands up and down his sides and cried out as she wrapped her legs tighter and tighter around his body and fucked him back.
"Yes, fuck me, Leif. That is right. Oh, girls are going to love you! Fuck my black pussy, you white stud!"
It was working out perfectly. They were fucking with power, linked together, black and white and man and woman and it was even better than the fantasies that Donna had had. This was something that she would have never have gotten if she had gotten out of that ghetto in Detroit, she thought. She loved the fucking and she loved the grinding, sweating, Nordic boy who slammed his cock into her and moved into her more deeply than any other man had ever been. She grunted and groaned and sighed and felt the perspiration drop from his body onto hers and felt magnificently linked. She would have liked to fuck like that for the rest of her life, she thought, the rest of her black life.
But, as good as this was, Donna knew that this was only the first part of her fantasy and his fantasy too, and she knew that the best was yet to come. It would come to both of them after the fucking was over, and that would be the fantasy-the reality-that would purge her of all her doubts, her old, black, Detroit doubts.
Fucking him with such passion, she could hardly wait for that second part of their fantasy to start.
CHAPTER FIVE
After they had both come, Leif and Donna rested for a moment. Donna held the Nordic boy close to her and sighed in his ear and he kissed her lips from time to time. They were no longer playing their little game, she thought. They were being real with each other, and, even when he was being real, Leif was a very sexy young stallion. She liked him a lot.
When she felt the life coming back into her flesh after her orgasm, Donna spoke softly to her young, white lover.
"Are you ready for the next one?" she asked.
He looked at her and thought for a minute and then he smiled and nodded his head.
"You want what I want then?" he asked.
"I surely do want it. They would not have put us together if they did not know that we wanted the same thing. The brochure said that they did not want a lot of discussion between the partners because they knew that discussion spoiled the fantasy."
"Yeah," the boy said. "You ready then?"
She shivered a little when she thought about what was about to come. She did not know if she was ready for it at all. Now that it was so near, she wwondered if she would ever be ready for it. It seemed like such a tough fantasy to fulfill and she knew that it would be brutal. She knew that, once he started, this boy would spare her nothing, would offer no mercy.
But it was what she had dreamed about. It was the thing that would purge her. At least, she hoped that it would purge her, she thought.
So, finally, she nodded her head and said the words that she had to say to get the thing started. She sensed that Leif would not start on her until she told him that she was ready, that she wanted it.
"Yes," she whispered, kissing his cheek. "I want to be treated in that special way by you. I want you to do it to me."
Leif grinned and then kissed her one last time. In a way, it was a kiss good-bye. She knew by now that this young man was a great actor. Once he started on the next fantasy, he would not be the same Leif that he had been before.
The boy got up and stood by the bed. He turned his back on Donna. He watched as the muscles in his naked ass tensed. He was concentrating, she thought, changing his character. She closed her eyes and waited for him to turn and start the rest of the treatment. She could feel the cold sweat break out all over her black, sexy body.
It was because of the old Detroit doubts, she thought, and the guilt that she felt because there were at least a dozen girls like her in that Detroit ghetto, black, sexy girls who sang well. But she had been lucky and she had gotten out and those other girls had remained there, trapped by the cold, stone walls of the run-down tenements. They would never get out now and Donna felt that she did not deserve such good luck. Because of that, she worried that it was all a dream, that she would wake up some morning to find that she was back in some rat-hole of an apartment with all of her family around her, screaming and fighting and beating each other because they were all filled with that terrible Detroit dread, that lonely sense of isolation and caged anger that every person in that ghetto had.
She had gotten her family out too and she had not been surprised when they had stopped fighting like that once they were in a fine house. The environment had caused it all, and she had escaped environment. At least, she hoped that she had. She had escaped it if it were not all a dream. That is what she wanted Leif to do for her, to make her success real to her with this special treatment that only a white, sexy, Nordic young man could give her.
The black, sexy singer lay naked there on the bed and kept her eyes closed until she heard Leif say the first words to her.
"Nigger bitch," he snarled.
Then she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was standing next to that bed with his white fists clenched and his body tight. His face showed all of his white anger, and she sighed when she looked at that anger. Yes, she thought, that is what she wanted, that white heat of white anger. And she wanted to hear those words come to her from that white, angry voice.
"Nigger," he hissed.
"Yes," she sighed, "I am a nigger."
Leif moved onto the bed and knelt over her and looked down at her with that disgust in his face that she knew that she wanted to see there. But she could not help being frightened. She knew that this boy would carry the fantasy through and she knew that she would be hurt. But she just hoped that she would also be helped by his anger, helped by the anger that she felt that she deserved because she had been so lucky and had gotten out of that ghetto.
"You think that I liked fucking you, nigger bitch?" he asked with a snarl. "You think that I liked putting my good, white cock in your fucking nigger, slut pussy."
She did not say anything. She knew that she disgusted him now, as a nigger would disgust a true, Nordic boy.
"I hated it!" he cried. "I almost puked when I smelled that nigger stink on you. But I kept my stomach down and I fucked you because I knew that, if I fucked you, I could do this to you, you fucking, black nigger slut."
And Donna suddenly wondered how much of what he said to her was really true, was really what he believed. She knew that this was his fantasy too, and she knew that this white boy did not really know how he felt about her. He was attracted to her and repelled by her at the same time. And that thing that attracted him was also the thing that turned his stomach. He both loved and hated her black, nigger flesh. That was the way a lot of white men felt, and she knew that this boy's fantasy was not that uncommon.
What was uncommon was that she wanted to be treated in this paradoxical manner and that she and the boy had found each other with the help of these people who ran this special cruise. They both had enough money to hire a company to find that right person to work out all of those strange, twisted emotions, that person who matched emotion with emotion and desire with desire. That was the horrible and heavenly thing, she thought.
Leif put his hand on her black jaw and held it tight as he gave her a white order.
"Say it," he said. "Say that you are a nigger."
Then he released her jaw, but she said nothing. She was too overcome with his white force to speak.
So he slapped her hard with his hand and snarled at her again as the heat from the slap shot right up to her black brain.
"Say it! Say you are a nigger!"
Finally, she found her voice. She surrendered to his orders.
"I am a nigger," she said softly. "You are a nigger slut," he said. "I am a nigger slut."
"You are a nigger slut with a filthy, nigger pussy."
"I am a nigger slut with a filthy, nigger pussy."
"You are a nigger slut with a filthy, nigger pussy that does not deserve to be fucked by a good, white cock like mine."
"I am a nigger slut with a filthy, nigger pussy that does not deserve to be fucked by a good, white cock like yours."
And as she said that she felt her own filthy, nigger pussy, her cunt, pulse with fire because the whole thing was turning her on so much. Yes, this was what she needed! She needed to be reminded that she was a nigger! She needed to be treated like a common, nigger slut from the ghetto of Detroit, because down deep she knew that that was what she was.
She moved her hips on the bed and Leif caught that slight motion. He slapped the top of her cunt hard with his hand.
"Keep that nigger cunt still, you fucking bitch," he ordered her. "I don't want to see that nigger cunt moving around there like some kind of mangy, diseased animal."
"I will keep my nigger cunt still," she promised, but, even as she promised, she moved it again. The cunt seemed to have a mind of its own. It wanted to get up and dance to wild, jungle music, the kind of music that niggers in Detroit danced to. It wanted to dance until it was beaten down by this noble, white boy.
Leif snarled and slapped it again and again and the heat of the slaps shot through her cunt and made it even wetter. This was even a greater flood than the one that she had had before. This black flood was sweeping through her and it was caused not by a frightened, virgin white boy but by a noble, strong, angry white master.
And Donna loved that white master because of his white anger and his slaps.
Leif stopped slapping her cunt and put his hand over it and grabbed her body and lifted it. He had his hand cupped around her snatch as if he were trying to tear that nigger cunt out of her body, as if it offended him so much that he wanted to tear it out and throw it into the sea. The thought made her pussy pulse even more and Donna leaked juices on his white, angry hand.
When he felt those juices, Ljif jerked his hand away and looked at the wetness there. The disgust in his face grew to a passion peak.
"Fucking bitch," he snarled. "This shit smells terrible. It smells like a rancid, nigger cunt. Get this smelly stuff off me."
When he said that, he slapped that hand over her mouth and held it there while she stuck out her tongue and licked the juices, the nigger juices, her own juices off his hand with her wet tongue. She did taste rancid, she thought. The taste of her own cunt cream almost made her gag because she was so far gone into her fantasy, her fantasy of her own Detroit worthlessness.
When she had licked the juices from his palm, Leif took his hand away from her mouth and ran that hand over one of her big tits to wipe it dry on her own flesh.
Then he started to snarl and curse her again.
"You think that you are sexy, don't you? Well, you aren't. You are nothing but a nigger, a spade, a jungle-bunny, a big-lipped, monkey-faced, black piece of shit."
"I know," she sighed.
"You shouldn't even be here on this ship. You should be scrubing floors in some building, like a nigger woman is supposed to do. You should be standing on the street corner, fucking and sucking for five bucks a throw like that nigger whore that you are."
"I know."
"You are not sexy. You are shit. I spit on your nigger body."
And the blonde boy did just that. He cleared his throat and spit on one of her tits. The saliva seemed to sizzle there on her black flesh and fill her with delight and disgust at the same time. She began to get hot again, hot with sexual tension, so hot that she could not he still. Her pussy started to move again, to buck against the cool air of the ship's cabin as if she were trying to fuck the air there. When he saw that, Leif started to slap her cunt again. But he could not stop her from moving. She was too far gone in her sexual ecstasy to let a few slaps stop her. Leif seemed to realize that very quickly and he did something that was even worse to her. He grabbed a bit of her black, wiry cunt hair and he yanked it out.
She screamed as the pain shot through her like a lightning bolt.
And he yelled at her to overpower the sound of that scream.
"You perverted, nigger whore!"
The blonde boy cleared his throat and spit again on her black flesh. More mucus sizzled on her skin. He spit and spit and spit. He spit on her stomach and on her big, black tits and on her face. When she opened her lips, he even spit into her mouth. She swallowed his spit and felt it burn as it went down her throat.
She seemed to be covered with angry, blonde, white spit, spit that sizzled and burned on her like a thousand, wet, disgusting branding irons.
But she knew that she deserved it because she had been so lucky and she had gotten out of Detroit when there were at least a dozen other girls who deserved the break as much as she did and she knew that she was never going to wind up back there because she was saving her money and that made her happy and guilty at the same time.
Just as this treatment made her happy and disgusted at the same time.
Leif looked down at her and snarled.
"Where is it?"
"Where is what?" she murmured as she tried to focus on the white, angry master through the tears that filled her eyes.
"Where is the white cock that you love so much?"
"What white cock?"
He slapped her hard with his hand and he hissed in anger.
"Do lie to me, nigger. I know that all of you nigger girls have a white cock that you keep just for your own pleasure. You all want a white cock so much that you will even settle for a fake one when you can't get a real one. You know that."
Donna surrendered to him, knowing that he was right, knowing that the people who had run the cruise had probably told him about the white dildo that she used. She pointed toward the little desk on the other side of the room.
"In there," she moaned. "In there. The top drawer."
"You always have it with you, don't you, nigger bitch."
"Yes."
"Why?"
She bellowed out the truth.
"Because I love its whiteness! I love to see that whiteness go into my nigger pussy!"
Leif laughed as he got off the bed and Donna sighed. She had never told anyone about that dildo except for the people who ran the cruise. She kept it hidden from Leon, the black man that she lived with, but she took it out of its secret place on those afternoons when she was alone and wanted to think about how good it would be to have a white, cruel master. When she thought about that master, she fucked herself with that big, white dildo, and she battered her own cunt with that white-cock. Now, she thought, Leif was going to use it on her, and he was going to give her a fucking like nothing that she had ever been able to give herself. He was really going to batter her pussy with that cruel, white thing.
The boy opened the drawer and pulled out the long, white thing. His cock had been long and fat when it had been hard, but this fake cock was even longer. It was almost a foot long, and it was white like ivory, ghostly white. That was why she liked it so much. That was why she had carried it with her all of these months. She had wanted to be near something that white and that long and that cruel.
"So," he said, holding the cock up and walking back toward the bed, "this is your favorite white cock."
Donna thought about it for just a second and then she knew that she had to tell him the truth.. She said it softly, almost lovingly, in a voice like a good and loving slave would use.
"It used to be my favorite, white cock," she said. "But now your cock is my favorite. Your cock is even better than that one."
Leif stopped for a few seconds and twisted his handsome face up, and he seemed to be considering what she had just said to him. Then he laughed out loud, laughed like the merry and cruel white master that he had become.
"Well, nigger," he said. "You better stick to this fake white cock because I am never going to fuck you with my cock again. I could not stand to fuck a nigger bitch like you twice. I would throw up all over for sure."
Donna's body tensed with desire when Leif said that. It would be so sexy and so right if he would vomit on her, but she figured that that was out of the question, that would be too much to ask of even a cruel white boy like Leif. She would have to settle for the rough fucking that he was going to give her with that white cock of hers.
Leif moved back onto the bed and snarled another order to his black slave.
"Spread those shitty legs, you piece of nigger slime."
And by then she knew that she could not refuse him. She would have to do exactly what he said. She was too weak and too willing to do anything more than surrender to him. She looked at that white cock in his hand and she sighed. She had used it on herself so often, but she knew that she had never used it with the cruelty and passion that Leif was going to put into this fucking that was just about to start.
Leif moved between her legs and looked down at her pussy.
"Spread those cunt-lips, nigger," he said. "Show me your sickening pinkness."
As Donna moved her hands down her body to do as he ordered her to do, her fingers went through some of the spittle that was on her body and she was suddenly chilled with a strange sexual feeling. But she kept her fingers moving. She knew that she had to do that. She spread her pussy lips for him and showed him her pink insides.
The blonde boy put the tip of the white cock against that pinkness and laughed when she jumped because the white cock was so cold against her. Then he gave her another order.
"Say that you are a nigger bitch," he said.
"I am a nigger bitch," she murmured, waiting for that first thrust with that cruel, white cock.
"You are a nigger slut." , "I am a nigger slut."
"You are nothing but a nigger cunt."
"I am nothing but a nigger cunt."
"Nigger."
"I am a nigger."
"Say it again."
"I am a nigger."
"Again."
"I am a nigger."
"Keep saying it while I fuck you with this."
"I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger."
As she said it over and over again, as the words became a chant for her, Leif slammed the big, fake, white cock into her pussy. She gasped when it was in her. He had shoved it in so deeply with that first thrust that it hurt her. But he did not care. And it was cold, so cold that it chilled all of her insides. But he did care. He started to work that fake cock around in her pussy, and she felt that thing almost tear her open down there. But she fucked it back and she sighed and she kept saying it, kept chanting the thing that he had told her to say.
"I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger."
And, feeling the pain in her body and especially in her nigger cunt, Donna felt that old guilt, that old set of Detroit doubts leave her. They floated off her as they were heavy, black, nigger clouds and they left her free. She kept that pain deep in her and she sighed and worked with it because she knew that it was the pain that gave her this new, free feeling.
If she could put up with this, she thought, then she knew that she deserved her success and her money and the applause from the crowds who came to see her perform. She deserved to get out of Detroit. She was paying for her escape right now, and she was paying for it with her pain and her humiliation and her own, terrible chant, the chant that had the words that meant so much to her.
"I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger ... I am a nigger."
And, when those old Detroit doubts left her, she began to really enjoy that fucking that he was giving her and she stopped her chant and started to sigh to him.
"Oh, use that thing on me, Leif. Yes, fuck me with that thing. That is so good. I feel so good now. Oh, god, Leif, that is great. Fuck me with that thing."
The boy understood that the game was over, and he continued to fuck her but he fucked her like a lover again and not like a master. He fucked her and smiled down on her and worked that big, white cock back and forth in her black cunt until she sighed and tossed her body and came with a massive and wonderful orgasm, an orgasm that announced her freedom from the doubts that had come to her when she was growing up in Detroit.
Then, after she had come, Leif gently pulled the cock out of her and looked at her as he raised the white dildo to his mouth and kissed it, kissed the juices that were on it.
He helped her to the bathroom and washed her with his own gentle hands, washed the spittle and the disgust off her. As he washed her, he asked her the question.
"May I stay with you the rest of the night and just make it with you, Donna? I think that you are very sexy."
"Oh, yes," she said. "You can stay with me for as long you like, Leif. I think that you are very sexy too."
And the black singer knew that she would be able to fuck him with wild abandon now, now that she had gotten rid of all of her fears.
That first fucking had been good but it was going to be even better now. She knew that she and Leif had worked out some of their own personal ghosts together and she knew that what they shared for the rest of that night would the be fucking of the blessed and peaceful people, the ones who had no ghosts left to haunt them and no troubles in the world.
As he washed her, she pulled him to her and kissed him. Then she got out of the tub and let him dry her off and then she filled the tub with fresh water and washed his white, sexy body, just as he had washed her.
When he was clean and sweet and dry, they walked back to the bed and held hands as they went. Then they lay together and made love slowly and with friendly passion. They made love without any doubts or ghosts at all. They made love with a sexy passion that does not come often. But it came to them during those hours there in that cabin. With their fantasies fulfilled, they made love like two noble, heavenly creatures.
And Donna thought when she touched his prick that there was certainly nothing like this in old Detroit.
CHAPTER SIX
After she had looked at the priest for a few minutes, Jodi decided that it really did not make any difference to her whether he wore his clerical garb or not. Naked, he looked very good. He was a young man, probably in his early thirties, and he was balding, but that just made his face seem to shine more when he smiled. And she did like that smile. It was a bashful, bright sort of expression and she thought that he looked very good when he beamed at her.
She got off the bed and walked to the closet. Kristy had been standing over the man for almost a whole minute, Jodi reckoned, but the dark-haired girl was too much of a lesbian to know just how lucky they were to have such a handsome priest with them at that moment. Jodi knew that she was lucky and she thought that it might be a lot of fun to let Jack join them. She reached out and Jack took her hand and she held that hand of his as he stood up and moved from the closet.
"You are Jodi, right?" he said, beaming at her with that killer smile.
"Yes, Jack, I am Jodi and this is Kristy."
Jack put his arm around the naked, blonde girl and held her close to him.
"Do you like men too?" he asked, and, when Jodi heard that question and saw that grin, she knew that she had him if she wanted him. And she did want him. She wanted to fuck him for sure. Then, she thought, if she fucked the priest, she might even get him to leave that shitty church and come out and live like a real human being.
She smiled at him as she ran her hand over his cock and felt the little dab of come that was still hanging from his organ.
"I don't like all guys, Jack," she said sweetly, "but I sure as hell like you. I want to fuck you like crazy."
Jack chuckled, but Kristy just stood there and stared at them. What was Jodi saying? She wanted to fuck this man? Kristy did not understand how things could turn out this way. This man was not even her father and yet her lesbian lover, that cute blonde who meant so much to the dark-haired teen-ager, wanted to fuck him.
And then Jack turned to look at Kristy and smiled at her and the girl knew that he was about to invite her into the bed with him and Jodi. She tried to think very quickly. She did not know what to do. She did not like guys, but she was afraid to turn them down. She did not want to lose Jodi to this man and she sensed that, if she did not do what he wanted her to do, she would lose Jodi. She would look like some kind of little, lesbian fool. She was confused.
Jodi could see that confusion in her eyes, and she , touched Jack's cock to get his attention.
"Let's go wash this thing up, Jack," she said with a grin. "Kristy has to be alone for a little while to think about some stuff, don't you, Kristy?"
The dark-haired girl sighed and nodded her head. She felt that her blonde friend had saved her from something, but she knew that Jodi had only delayed the inevitable decision. As she walked Jack and Jodi walk toward the bathroom and go into that little room, she sat down on the bed. Kristy wanted to collapse, to disappear so that she would not have to face such a terrible thing. But she knew that, if she did disappear, she would lose Jodi. She had known all along that her blonde lover liked men far too much, but she had tried to keep that to herself, to fool herself into thinking that Jodi would be able to get by with just girl-love, that soft love that Kristy gave to her. Now the whole thing had come to a crisis point and Kristy did not know what to do. She heard her lover giggle in there in the bathroom and she knew that Jodi was probably washing that dick for that man, that disgusting man-But wait a minute! The girl really did not think that he was disgusting. In fact, she thought that he was sort of handsome. And he was not like her father. Not really. He seemed to be a very nice man and Kristy sensed that he might be very good in bed too, better than that one other boy that she had had.
And then it was decided, so quickly that the answer seemed to come to her by some form of magic. She would fuck him. After all, she had fucked a man before, and it had not killed her. She would fuck him so that she could keep from looking like a little, lesbian fool, and she would fuck him so that she could share this experience with Jodi and thereby keep her lover with her. The man might be very good in bed, she reminded herself, and, even if he was not that good, he could not be any worse than that boy who had taken her virginity from her. She might enjoy it, but she could at least endure it.
She heard the water running in the bathroom and she felt a strange tingling on her flesh. She lay back on the bed and sighed. Now that it had been decided, she wanted to get the whole thing started as quickly as she could, she thought. She wanted to get it on with this guy who was not like her father at all. She felt that she would have to do it in order to show Jodi something about life and love. She would do it out of love for Jodi, Kristy thought, and her blonde friend would understand that and love her all the more for fucking this man. Kristy felt a throbbing in her pussy and she knew that that love for Jodi and that tingle that came to her when she thought about what she was going to do with her blonde, young lover and her feelings of excitement when she thought about this new experience were coming together to turn her on.
She ran her hands over her tits and then she slowly let one hand meander down to her pussy. She began to finger that clit and she felt the warmth come over, the lazy, sexy warmth that she usually shared with Jodi. But, tonight, she thought, she was going to share it with Jodi and with a man, a man that she did not even know that well, a man who was nothing like her father at all.
She sighed and fingered herself and waited for her friend and that man to come to her. She closed her eyes and she did not hear them enter the room again. The first thing, the first sound that broke through that warm fog of lust that she felt in her body, was the sound of her friend's giggling.
She opened her eyes and moved her hand away from her clitoris and smiled at Jodi. The blonde was standing there with the man next to her. Kristy giggled with Jodi. She was not embarrassed that she had been caught playing with herself. The girl was beyond shame at that moment. She just moved up on the bed and lay back and spoke to the girl who was giggling.
"What kept you two, Jodi? Let's get it on, all three of us."
Jodi stopped giggling, surprised that, her friend 'was being so pleasantly forceful. She was glad that Kristy had made up her mind to join her and Jack in bed. It kept everything so simple, the blonde thought, and it made things even more kinky than they had been before. She moved toward the bed and, laughing, collapsed next to her dark-haired, teen-aged lover. The two girls kissed with a warm, soft smack, and then they both turned and looked at Jack.
They both spread their legs for him and showed him their split beavers, just as they had shown him those beavers when he had been sitting alone in the closet.
"Remember these?" Jodi joked.
"They look vaguely familiar," Jack quipped. "I believe that I met them at a party in Beverly Hills."
And then all three people in that cabin laughed.
Jodi guessed that they could have gotten started immediately, but she suddenly wanted to know something. She wanted to know what had caused Jack to have this kind of fantasy. Perhaps, she thought, .if she asked him about it, he would tell her and he would admit that he was a priest. Then everything would be very perfect. If he admitted to being a priest, she thought, he would be one step closer to getting the hell out of the church and living like a normal, sexy male should live.
"What caused you to want this, Jack?" she asked. "What is the reason for this fantasy that you had? Do you know?"
Jack nodded his head and moved toward the bed. He sat down on the edge of that bed and Jodi and Kristy sat up. The dark-haired girl was interested in what had caused Jack to pay so much money for this experience too. She thought that, if she knew that, she might understand men better, even men like her own father. There was silence for a moment and then Jack explained everything to the two teen-aged girls.
"When I was a little boy," he said, "I used to hide in my sister's closet. She was older than I was, about sixteen when I was seven, and she was bi-sexual, a real swinger, just like you two. She used to bring her girlfriends over and make it with them in the afternoon when she thought that nobody else was around. But I was around. I would hide in the closet and watch, her and her girlfriends. Every time she did it, I remember, there seemed to be a different girl. I thought that every girl in the high school wanted to get in my sister's panties. Well, I would hide in the closet and watch and she never caught me. But, when I was eight years old, she ran away. She took off with another girl to go to New York City and she was never heard of again. My mother and my father grieved over her as if she were dead, but I grieved for a different reason. I grieved because I would never get a chance to see her make it with another girl again. That made me feel very sorry. Then I got older and I started fucking girls and I came to California and worked hard and got married a couple of times and made a lot of money. But, lately, oh, for the past two or three years, I guess, I have beenN thinking about her again. I keep thinking that I might find her again and that she will still be sixteen and sexy and making it with girls. But I know that, even if I did find her, I probably would not even recognize her now. Anyway, I sort of wanted to relive that time with her and her girlfriends, and I did relive it when I watched the two of you. I relived more than just that. You two are even sexier together than my sister and her girlfriends were. And now I am going to get a chance to join you, and that is a chance that I never got when I was seven years old. I think that I am a very lucky fellow right at this moment."
When he said that, he grinned and the girls grinned too. Jodi felt a little bad because he had not admitted that he was a priest, but she figured that his churchly vocation was his own business. Kristy felt happy because he had told her that she and Jodi were even better than his own sister. She had never had a sister, but she knew that a brother and a sister could be close. She felt strangely proud because Jack had admitted that he was lucky, and she "sensed that, at that moment, he preferred to the two of them-Jodi and herself-even to his sister-, and that was something to be proud of certainly.
Kristy kissed his lips softly. She liked the feel of that. His mouth seemed both hard and soft. She remembered the boys that she had kissed before she had found Jodi and given up on boys. They had always seemed so hard t when she kissed them, so tense. Jack did not seem tense at all. He was vaguely easy, but she could tell that he was excited too, excited in a mature way, and she knew that she and Jodi were the two who were exciting him that way. That made her proud too.
"Lie back and relax, Jack," the blonde told the man. Jack grinned again as he did what she told him to do. He obviously knew what Jodi had planned, Kristy thought, but she did not know. She just knew that, whatever it was, it would be sexy and exciting and new for her.
The man lay in the middle of the bed and Jodi touched his cock with her finger and looked up at Kristy.
"His prick is all clean now," she said, "and I bet that it is sweet too. I think that we should both suck on this cock and get him hard so that he can fuck us, Kristy. What do you think?"
The dark-haired girl did not know what to think. She had never sucked on a cock before. The boy who had fucked her that one and only time had been hard from the first moment that he had touched her, but Jack was not hard at all. His cock was long and meaty and looked firm and sweet, but it was not hard, and that made Kristy feel strangely good because she knew that this was a man who did not let excitement rule him, who could control himself in a sexual way. It was another sign that he would be better, she thought, better than that boy from her past.
And she found herself wanting to suck on his cock, to taste that clean sweetness there. She especially wanted that if Jodi was going to suck on his cock too. She wanted to share that with her blonde friend, her lover, and she was certain that Jodi would show her what to do.
Kristy nodded her head and smiled at her friend.
"Yes," she said softly to Jodi, "I think that we ought to suck his cock and get him hard so that he can fuck both of us."
Jodi felt very happy when Kristy said that. She knew just how much her friend was doing for her. She knew that the dark-haired, sexy girl had never sucked a cock before, but she was willing to give it a try if Jodi wanted her too. And she caught that glimmer of fire in the girl's eye too and she knew that Kristy wanted to try sucking a prick now. She knew that her friend would not be the same when this experience was over, that her friend would be changed for the better into a real fun-loving girl, and Jodi was overjoyed when she thought about what that change would do to Kristy. It would turn her into a better comrade for the blonde and she would no longer be so sullen and jealous. She would even fuck guys too, Jodi hoped, and then the blonde would no longer have to sneak around to get an occasional prick up her pussy.
It would make everything so much sweeter, Jodi thought.
But the blonde knew that she would have to start the sucking, that she would have to show her friend how it was done.
Jodi and Kristy moved into position, on opposite sides of Jack's body and they lay down with their legs pointed up at the head of the bed and their faces close to his cock. Kristy looked into her friend's blue eyes and nodded her head. She was giving Jodi the sign that she wanted to be shown, that she wanted to learn from her blonde lover how to please this man.
And Jodi understood that sign. She reached across Jack's body and pulled her dark-haired girlfriend to her again and gave her one final kiss before the sucking started and showed Kristy in that way that she appreciated what the girl was going to do for her and with her. It was all going to be simple from now on, the blonde, sexy teen-ager thought again, so simple and so lusty that it would be like heaven to her. And she knew that, once she got started with a good man, it would be like heaven to Kristy too.
Kristy watched closely as Jodi then raised the cock and held it up in her soft, young hand and started to stroke that cock. Kristy watched with interest as the prick began to harden almost immediately, as if Jodi was putting some life into it. Then she saw her friend move her face over the cock and stick out her little, pink, sexy tongue and lick the top of it. When'Jodi did that, she moved back from the prick and held it up and nodded her head again and Kristy knew that she wanted her dark-haired girlfriend to follow her explain. After about two seconds of hesitation, the dark-haired girl moved her face to the cock and stuck out her tongue and licked that pink prickhead just as her blonde friend had done. Jodi was right, she thought. It was sweet and clean. And if was tasty too. Kristy felt her twat tingle with excitement and she grinned at her friend and pulled back from the cock and waited with girlish anticipation showing on her pretty face for Jodi to show her something else.
Jodi knew what should come next. She brought her face to the cock and stuck out her tongue and touched the pink tip of it again. Then she ran her tongue down the length of the stiffening rod and ran it around the base of the cock with ease. She came back up as she licked the underside of the shaft and then she took her mouth away from the prick.
Kristy had been watching it all very closely. She leaned forward and stuck out her tongue and then started to lick the prick just as her lover had done. She could taste the wetness of Jodi's saliva on her tongue as she traced almost the same journey that the blonde had made. And she felt the prick throb and stiffen even more under her touch. That made the dark-haired girl very proud of herself.
When Kristy had finished with that licking of the weapon, she took her mouth away from the cock and smiled at Jodi and the blonde knew that it was time to show her friend the ultimate, the real sucking of a cock. She knew that Kristy was ready for it, as ready as she would ever be. She pulled Jack's cock to one side, leaning the stiffening then just a little bit and then she grinned at her lover and then moved her head over the shaft. She opened her soft, pink lips and moved the cock into her mouth and she closed her lips around the knob on the top of that cock and she sucked on it. Kristy watched with fascination as her friend's cheeks hollowed up with the sucking and she heard Jack moan.
This, the dark-haired girl thought, was the way that a woman pleased a man. She could hardly wait to try it too. She wanted Jodi to get her mouth off that cock and quit hogging that big, nice thing.
When Jodi did pull her mouth off the cock, she bent it back slightly in Kristy's direction, offering the feast of cock-meat to her friend. Kristy did it quickly, because she knew that she would have to rush or she would lose her girlish courage. She took the tip of that cock in her mouth and sucked on it as her friend held it. When she heard the man moan again, she was almost beside herself with pride and with joy, for she knew that she was making Jack moan with pleasure.
Then she did something that seemed so natural that she could think of doing nothing else. She opened her lips just a little bit and she lowered her mouth on the member and pressed her lips together again as she felt more of the cock-meat move into her. She felt the throbbing deep in her mouth and she tasted the sweetness and she started to work up and down on the shaft. As she did that, she looked up at her friend and she saw Jodi start to giggle with happiness. When Jodi took her hand off the cock, Kristy grabbed it and held it and sucked on it with merry passion.
"That's the way, girl," Jodi said. "Boy, that is the way."
"Oh, yeah," Jack moaned. "That feels great. You can really give head, Kristy."
Kristy was overjoyed. She had learned so quickly and she was doing it so well and the cock was so sweet and stiff in her mouth.
The rest of it came naturally to the girls. Kristy took her mouth off the prick and she and Jodi licked on it together, as if they were sharing a sweet sucker. Their tongues moved over the thing like little flickering bits of flame and the cock got stiffer and harder with each second.
Jack lay there and moaned and wallowed in the pleasure that the girls were giving him. This was great, better than anything that he had ever imagined and worth every dime that that cruise was costing him. Then he felt a little guilty. They were giving him all that pleasure and he was not doing anything for them, he thought.
He looked at the two twats that lay on either side of him. They deserved something for this sexy sucking, he thought. So he moved his hand over those two rounded asses and felt that girlish softness and sighed when each girl spread her legs for him.
That was when he slipped his fingers easily into those two, young, wet, sexy cunts. He worked on them with both hands as they sucked his cock and got him ready.
Kristy and Jodi worked together on that cock as if they had been sharing pricks all of their lives. They licked and sucked and kissed the man's tight balls and, every once in a while, when their lips came together by accident, they would kiss and share that special sweetness of lesbian love with each other.
They were only sixteen, but they had already shared so much and they would share even more.
It would all be so simple from now on, Jodi thought again. It would be simple and loving and carefree and she and Kristy would be sweet together. They would understand each other even more with each passing day.
And the little blonde thought of one more thing that they would share.
They would share other men. She knew in her heart that this man would not be their last. To the blonde it seemed especially sweet to share a man with her girlfriend. She could think of nothing sweeter in the whole, wide world.
And, when the cock was hard and their pussies were wet, the girls moved giggling on the bed and spread their legs so that Jack could fuck them. When the man paused, having trouble making his mind which pussy he wanted first, Jodi helped him out.
"Fuck her first, Jack," she said. "She has only had one other cock in her."
"Okay," the mail said.
And he slipped into that tight, sweet cunt of Kristy's with an easy motion and the dark-haired girl moaned with ecstasy and the fucking, the sweet and loving fucking, began.
Jodi watched as her friend responded to the fucking with passion and soft moans of pleasure and knew that Kristy had been changed for the better by this cruise.
She whispered in Jack's ear.
"You are a priest and you can fuck her so well," she said.
Jack did not understand what the blonde meant by that, but he did not feel like arguing with her. He just kissed her and fucked her friend and admitted to the lie.
"Sure," he said, "if you want me to be a priest, I will be a priest, Jodi."
And Jodi felt warm and good and loving with her friend and her priest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After two long fuck sessions, the second one starting just minutes after the first one was over, Tom sighed and rolled off the bed and stood up. He looked back at Natalie. The actress was cooing at him and reaching for him. She was a great fuck, but she was more than the young man could handle, he thought. He looked at the husband who sat there in the chair, still watching both of them closely after all these hours, and he tried to grin, but he was too exhausted to be really very friendly. In a way, he pitied Bob. If that man had to try to satisfy that woman every night, it was no wonder that he was thin and frail. This woman could fuck the life out of any man, Tom thought.
Bob lit another cigarette and looked up at the naked, sweating, tired man.
"Too much for you, Nature Boy?" he asked with a sneer.
And Tom was too tired to lie to him, to argue with him. He just nodded his head.
"Come on back to bed, Tom," Natalie said, sounding like a spoiled little girl. "Give me just one more good fucking before you leave. Fuck me until dawn and I won't ask anything else of you."
"Shut the fuck up, Natalie," the husband said in a soft but sinister voice. "Can't you see that he is about ready to tuck it in he is so tired?"
And the famous movie actress did shut up. She just lay there on the bed and pouted her lips out and let out a little sigh.
"I need a drink," Tom muttered.
As the naked, hairy man staggered toward the little bar and poured himself a stiff belt of scotch whiskey, the husband stood up and started to chuckle.
"I thought that you never drank," he said. "I thought that you wanted to keep your reflexes ready or something like that."
Tom threw down the drink quickly and then looked at the husband.
"My reflexes are shot to hell anyway," he said.
And then it was too much to Tom. He started to laugh too, and when he laughed Bob broke into great laughter. Soon, the husband was pouring his wife's one-night lover another drink and they were laughing together like two old army buddies.
Bob had not been surprised that his wife had worn the man out. He had always figured that his wife was more than one could handle, and he did not feel so badly about his marriage now that he knew that even this man, who was in such great physical shape, could not handle her either. He poured himself another drink and he and Tom clicked their glasses together in a toast as Bob spoke.
"To Natalie," the husband said.
"Yes, to Nat," the lover replied.
"A great fuck," Bob said.
"A wonderful fuck."
"But too much for one man."
"Too much for any one man in the whole world."
They drank their liquor and laughed together and Bob felt very good. For a long time, Tom and Natalie had shut him out as they had fucked each other with such zealous passion. But now he and Tom were shutting Natalie out, and the husband felt a sweet revenge in that. They laughed and they drank and they glanced at her from time to time but they just laughed when they looked at her. They did not speak to the movie actress.
When Tom finished that second drink, he reached down and picked up his jeans. As he slipped them on, he explained to Bob, not to Natalie.
"I really have to be going. The cruise is due to end at noon tomorrow and I have a business appointment at three o'clock in the afternoon. I need some sleep, at least."
"Sure," Bob said, "I understand."
When Tom was dressed, the husband escorted the man to the door, walking with Tom and holding his arm around the hairy young man as if they were old school chums who had not seen each other for years. At the door, Bob shook the man's hand and spoke to him softly.
"Thank you very much," he said.
"Thank you," Tom said. "I enjoyed fucking her, even if it did wear me out."
"You have taught me a lot about my wife and about myself, Tom," Bob said truthfully.
"I think that our marriage will be much better for this night."
"I hope so," the bearded, young man said, "but I really don't envy you that much. That woman will fuck many men into the grave before she is finished."
"But what a way to go," Bob said with a smile.
"Yeah," Tom agreed, laughing with his new friend, "the best way that I can think of."
Then Tom walked off, staggering a bit from the effects of the fucking and the liquor on his healthy system. Bob watched his friend, until Tom was safely in his own cabin and then he stepped back into the cabin with Natalie and closed the door. He turned and looked at his wife.
The dark-haired woman still pouted her lips when she looked at her husband.
"He thinks that I am some kind of terrible fucking machine, doesn't he?" she said.
"Yes, he does," Bob said with a grin, "and he is right."
When that was said, when it was out in the open, Natalie could not act like a little girl any longer. She could not be angry at her husband. She started to laugh, and Bob laughed with her. They laughed together as he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge of it and looked down at his sexy wife.
"I guess I am a fucking machine," Natalie admitted when her own laughter had died down in her throat. "It is just that when I get started I don't want to stop."
She reached out and touched Bob's arm.
"And that is not so bad, is it, Stud?"
"Not bad at all," Bob said, grinning at her. "In fact, I like you just the way that you are."
He knew what she wanted. He knew that she was still not completely satisfied, though she had come many times with Tom. He knew that his fucking-machine wife would never be completely satisfied, but she wanted him now. She wanted her husband to continue the loving action that Tom had started with her earlier that night. And Bob wanted her too. In fact, he thought, he could not remember a time when he had wanted to make love to his Wife more.
Natalie suddenly moved past her husband and off the bed.
"I will go take a quick shower, Stud," she said with a smile, "and then I will come back all fresh for you and we will fuck until dawn. Okay?"
"Okay, Nat," the husband said, using the nickname that Tom had used with her.
She caught the use of that name and she leaned over and kissed Bob tenderly.
"You are so wonderful," she said. "You are the best husband in the whole world."
And then she bounced into the bathroom like a little girl, naked and brimming over with sexy life. Bob watched her go and then, when he heard the water running in the shower, he started to unbutton his shirt.
As he stripped, he tried to remember all the things that Tom had done for her, all the ways in which they had moved together. She had liked Tom and she had liked the way that he seemed to be in tune with her emotions and her needs. Bob tried to tune himself into his wife in just that" way. He knew her well, but, strangely, he had never really known her before this night, it seemed. He had learned so much about what she would do and how much pleasure she could feel when a man was graceful but strong with her that night that he felt like he was with her on his wedding night again. This would be like a first time for them, and he would use every fiber of his being to give her pleasure. He loved his wife and he knew that she deserved all the pleasure that she could get.
And their timing was perfect. He had no sooner gotten naked and lay down on the bed than she burst from the bathroom with a towel around her body. She was still a little damp from the shower. He could see the beads of moisture rising up on her sexy, tanned shoulders, and he found her appealing that way, damp and clean and fresh, like the spring dew. He smiled at her. He would not speak to her. He remembered that she and Tom had not talked that much that night, that they had felt each other in silence and that that had made a difference in the way that she had responded to the man. So Bob did not speak to her. He told her with his eyes, with his expression that he wanted her to join him there in bed, and it worked. She dropped the towel and came to him with a look of merry passion in her eyes.
She lay next to him and kissed him softly with her fresh lips and he moved to lick some of the water from her face. That water refreshed him more than if he had been lost in the desert for days. The water tasted sweet, like Natalie herself.
The wife put her hand on Bob's prick and started to stroke it and she made a move to slip down to the foot of the bed so that she could suck his cock. But he stopped her and smiled. He did not want to have her suck him right away, and she saw that immediately. Instead, he moved down to the foot of the bed and Natalie spread her legs and lay there and waited for him to start on her cunt.
It had been a long time since he had licked out her pussy and gotten her going in that way. He did not know why he had stopped doing that. He supposed that he just forgot how much she had always liked it. But he remembered now. He remembered the way that she had acted when Tom had licked out her cunt and sucked on her clit. She had tossed about on the bed as if her pussy was on fire. That was the way that he wanted to please Natalie at that moment. That was the way that he wanted her to act with him.
Bob lay between his wife's legs and kissed and licked the inside of her firm, sexy thighs. The water was down there too, the water from the shower and it seemed even sweeter than the water that he had licked from her face. And she did like what he was doing to her. Her moans and the little bumps that rose to meet his tongue told him that her sexual nerves were begin to tingle there under the flesh. And he smelled too that faint, sea-like aroma that came from her clean pussy. She was already starting to juice up in there, he thought, because he was pleasing her that much.
He licked the joints on the inside of her thighs with special care, tasting that sweetness that was so close to her cunt. And then he kissed and licked the dark bush that grew over her twat. That hair was soft and sweet and wet. He slipped his tongue up a little further and drove his tongue like a spear into her navel and he felt her jump. She had not been expecting that, but she liked it. She liked it a lot. Her little, girlish squeal told him that.
After hearing that squeal, Bob knew that Natalie was ready. He moved his mouth back to her pussy and licked the pink lips of that cunt. The lips seemed to vibrate under his tongue and she moved on the bed and tensed her body with the passion that she felt. He kissed those lips softly, as if they were the lips to her mouth and he tasted that salty, sweetness that came out to greet him from deep inside his sexy wife.
Then he slowly opened those lips with his fingers and peered deep inside her. She seemed like a pink flower in there and the swirls of her pussy was complex and beautiful, like the design of something that had not yet been created in the modern world.
He worked his tongue gently into that pussy, drove it back with an easy, moving grace, and heard his wife sigh and lift her hips so that he could get into her more easily.
Bob drove his tongue back as far as he could and tasted the deep sweetness of her pussy. He felt the trembling on his tongue, the vibrating of her soft, inner flesh, and he worked his tongue around in there slowly, fucking her with his tongue, touching all the bases in that honeyed hole.
"Oh, Stud," she sighed, "that feels so good."
She was speaking, breaking the silence with her words of lust, but that kind of talking Bob did not mind. He liked to hear his wife call him a stud. He liked to know that he was giving her as much pleasure as Tom and all her other lovers had given her. When she sighed, he felt a tingle go up and down his spine. They had been married for years, but he had to admit that he had never felt more like her husband than he did at this sexy moment. He was her husband in the most true sense, he thought as he licked out her cunt. He was her husband, her lover, her friend, her stud. He might not be everything that she needed but he wanted to make sure that he gave her more in life than any other stud could ever give her, that she would always return to him when she finished with her little journeys into infidelity. And he knew that she would return now. He appreciated him as a lover now because he was doing something to her that he had done in years and he was doing it better than he had ever done it. And she would also return because she loved him. It was as simple as that. He had never doubted his wife's love for him, but it seemed to him that she loved him more at this moment than she had in a very long time. And with good reason, he thought. He was more worthy of her love at this moment than he had been in a very long time.
But slowly pulled his tongue out of her cunt and then started to work on her sweet, tough, little clitoris.. He worked his tongue against it and felt the little piece of flesh respond to his touch with a sexy, sweet passion. He swallowed and let the juices that he had found in her pussy roll down his throat and soothe him like a great love potion. He felt his own cock getting hard and he knew that he was getting hard because he was very proud of his own husbandly masculinity at that moment.
And then he sucked her clitoris into his mouth and began to work on it with soft, slurping, sucking motions. The aroma of her cunt filled his head and almost drove him crazy with desire and he used that new craziness, that sexual lust of madness, to drive him on in his sucking. He sucked on that clit with all of the force that he could muster in his lips. And he felt Natalie move as he did that.
She put her legs over his shoulder and ground her pussy into his face as he sucked. He looked and he saw her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open and she was gasping and rubbing her own sexy tits as the passion filled her.
He knew that she would come this way if he sucked much longer.
And he decided that he would let her have her first orgasm of the night with him in that manner. Then they would fuck and she would come again. They would fuck like newly weds again.
Again, Natalie burst the sexy, sighing silent with words, and, again, Bob did not mind because they were words of soft and lustful and thankful praise of him, words uttered by his wife, the woman who seemed new to him at this moment, like his bride. He felt that tingling in his spine again and he sucked her with even more passion as she slithered under him and spoke to him with soft, moaning sounds.
"Oh, Bob. Oh, Stud. That is so good. I am going to come, Stud. Oh, that feels good. Suck my clit. Suck it until I come. Then I will suck your cock. Then I will give you the best cock-sucking that you have ever had. Then we will fuck. Oh, Bob. Oh, Stud. Oh, I want to fuck you so much. You are the best. You are the best in the world. I love you, Stud. I love you so much."
And then the words stopped and her body tensed and Bob sucked and waited for little, little squeal, that orgasmic sound that he knew would come at any second.
And it did come, soft and strangely piercing t even in its softness and the squeal sent a new flash of tingling down Bob's body as he felt very proud of himself as a husband and as a stud.
He sucked all the way through that squeal. He sucked passionately as the woman jerked and bounced against him. He ran his hands over her body to hold her down and to give her that extra special pleasure too. And then, when Natalie relaxed and moaned with a soft, sleepy sound, he finally took his mouth off her clit and raised his face up and looked up at her and licked his wet lips.
"You taste great, Nat," he said.
"Oh, Stud," he said, "that was wonderful. I didn't know that you had it in you."
"I didn't," he admitted, "before tonight. Tonight changed everything for me."
"And it changed everything for me too," she said.
Natalie reached down and helped him as he climbed up her body. Then Bob lay beside her and kissed her and Natalie ran her tongue into his mouth with a soft and lazy and sexy motion. She probably tasted her own cunt in his mouth, he thought, and that idea, the idea that he was sharing his wife's pussy with Natalie herself, thrilled him with its kinkiness.
The two of them moved together and Natalie threw her leg over Bob's thigh and rubbed him and thrilled him with her gentle flesh.
And his prick was getting hard and nudging the inside of her thigh and her stomach like an old friend. He liked the way that that felt and, when she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment and moved closer to him there on the bed, Bob knew that Natalie liked the way that his prick felt on her body too.
Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him and he read her thoughts like a good and loving husband should. She was thinking that she had given him a promise when he had been sucking her clit and now she was going to make good on that promise. And she was going to enjoy making good on the promise too.
Natalie pushed Bob onto his back and the husband lay there and took a deep breath as his sexy wife moved and started to kiss and lick his neck and his shoulders. She was going to travel down his body but she was going to take her time, and Bob liked that. They had a long time left. They would fuck until dawn or even later and then they would leave that boat at noon and go home and fuck some more. They had the rest of their lives together, he thought, and they could afford to take their time and make each other happy in those slow and pleasurable ways.
As the. dark-haired wife worked her way down her husband's body, Bob took a deep breath and felt very happy and very proud and very peaceful too. He had committed himself to knowing the truth, to knowing things for certain and for sure
And now he knew a most important thing for certain, he thought.
He knew that he could be a loving stud for his wife and he knew that she could be an exciting female for him. And he knew that he and Natalie loved each other with a passion that could overcome every obstacle and ordeal.
And that, he thought, was the most important thing that a man could know for certain. That was the most important thing in life.
Later, when Natalie lifted his cock and sucked it into her mouth and took all of it in with one fantastic, sexy gulp, Bob knew one other thing for certain.
He knew that, when his wife was turned on, she was hell on wheels in bed, and he knew that he would want to turn her on every night from now on, because now he knew that he was man enough for her, that he was going to be her favorite stud, her favorite loving man.
He knew that one thing for certain.
And he knew that Natalie was not a whore.
He knew that she was just a healthy, sex-loving woman.
He knew that he was just a healthy, sex-loving man.
He knew that they made a wonderful couple at moments such as this, one, when she was sucking his cock.
And he knew that he was very lucky, very lucky indeed.
He had learned all of those things that night and he had to feel a little grateful to Tom and to the people who organized this cruise. He hoped that his good friend Tom was getting the rest that he needed now.
But he was glad that he was not sleeping. He was glad that he was having this time with his wife.
Natalie sucked on his cock with quick and soft motions and fingered his balls and got him hard and then Bob knew one final thing for certain, one final, important and lusting tiling.
He knew that he was going to fuck his wife as he had never fucked her before.
CHAPTER EIGHT
About dawn, Barbara regained consciousness and turned her head and looked at the man who was sitting there next to her on the bed.
When the tall redhead opened her eyes, Barney sighed with relief. For the longest time, he had thought that he had killed her.
When it had started, he thought, it had been like Korea, but then it had gotten bloodier and more terrible than Korea. He had raped her, had fucked her well, but the sweetness that he had known in his youth, the Korean sweetness of that one girl in the field, was gone. And he had been left frightened and sour, like something old and over the hill.
He had bathed the girl's face and had watched over her during the night.
And that had brought another change. As he had watched down on her, looked at her breathing and watched as the bruises came out on her face, he had found another strange sweetness. She was a little like a child, he thought. And that child in her had brought out some sweetness in him.
But now she was awake and Barney wondered if she hated him. When she had opened her eyes and looked at him, he had almost wanted to get up and run. He could imagine her screaming at him and telling him that she. was going to call the authorities, the crew of the ship, and that she was going to have him killed for what he had done to her, what he had forced her to go through.
It had not been right, had not worked from the very beginning, he thought.
But she did not scream at him. She opened her lips and sighed at him and said the words softly.
"Thank you," she said. "I needed that. I needed to remember that it was brutal and nothing to really think about at night."
The child-like softness was still in her, and Barney thought for a second that he was going to cry, to weep like a child himself.
But he did not weep. Instead he spoke to her and the words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.
"I love you, Barbara," he muttered. "Will you marry me?"
He was shocked by his own proposal. He did not even know the redhead, and he had raped her just a few hours before, raped her and battered her and hurt her badly. How could he propose to a girl that he had treated in such a terrible way?
But she did not seem shocked at all. She smiled at him.
"Of course, I will marry you," she said.
And the novelist found himself almost leaping for joy. He had been married before, many times, and none of them had worked out. But this one was different, he thought. This one was child-like and innocent in a strange way that he could not define. Barney tried to think of some way to explain it, but even he, a trained writer, a man who was used to staring into the void, could not figure it out.
He had stayed with her all night and had cared for her as she slept, and he was sure that that made some kind of difference to the relationship, but he could not think of what difference it would make, how it could turn rape into mutual love. But he knew that it had, and he knew that this love was forever, was charming, was inspiring. With this love, he thought, he could write good books, books that told the truth, the soft and child-like truth about the world and about relationships.
And then Barney realized that he had been wrong all these many years. It was not rape that mattered. It was love.
The redhead reached out for him and he lay down next to her and held her close. He could not kiss her face because that face had been battered and needed mending and he did not want to hurt her. But he touched her cunt lightly with his fingers and that touch seemed to him to be filled with love, that kind of love that he had never really known before, that kind of inspiring love that he had found as the sun had come out over the sea.
"Barney," the girl said softly, speaking slowly through her broken lips. "Barney, I love you because you have shown me. I was raped when I was just a girl and I thought that that might be the most meaningful that had ever happened to me, and I had dreamed about that rape and I had made it something wonderful in my mind. But now I know that it was not wonderful. It was brutal and you showed me that. And now you are showing me the other kind of sex, the loving sex. I love the way that her fingers feel on my pussy right now, and I want you to fuck me slowly and softly and lovingly. Will you do that for me, Barney?"
"Yes," he moaned. "I will do that for you."
The novelist unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out and found, to his surprise, that it was hard. It was harder than it had ever been before, even during the two rapes, the one in Korea and the one in this cabin. It was hard with soft and passionate love.
And the redhead and the novelist moved together without speaking, with softness in their hearts. Barney moved under the girl and lay on his back and he let the bruised and battered redhead chart her own course, hold his cock and ease her pussy down on him with a slow and sexy motion.
And her cunt was wet and soft and tight around his cock. It felt great.
"Now fuck me, Barney," Barbara said. "Fuck me nice and easy and slow and make me feel it deep in my heart."
And Barney knew that that was the way that he should have been fucking all alone. He fucked her with a grace that he did not know that he had in him. He moved under her slowly and lifted his hips and eased the prick deeper into her warm, wet, tight cunt, and he sighed with the knowledge that this was love, real and passionate and warm love.
"Later," she said, "Later we can fuck fast. Later we can fuck roughly. Later, we will fuck in all the ways that two people can fuck, Barney, and we will share in all the things that two people can share in. Later, after I am healed, we will fuck like thunder."
"Yes," he muttered, "fuck like thunder and lightning and tropical storms and hurricanes and soft, pleasant breezes on the beach."
"Yes," she murmured, "Like all of those things."
As Barney fucked her gently and slowly, he studied her long, thin, model's body and he liked what he saw there. Her tits were high and firm and they moved like two little bowls of something sweet as she rode him with a gentle movement. He reached up and touched one of her nipples with his finger and felt her softness. She was soft all over, on the inside and the outside, and he liked that.
And her stomach was flat and had little freckles on it that seemed to glow in the sunlight of the new day.
And her hair was long and red and tossed as she fucked him.
And her pussy was tight and covered with a sweet batch of red hair that glowed with the sex like something fiery and good and cleansing.
And her legs were long and firm and bulged with soft, feminine muscles as she rested on them and fucked him with that slow and gentle motion.
And her face was going to be beautiful again in a few weeks, after the cuts and bruises that he "had given her had healed.
She was the perfect woman, this redhead, Barney thought. She was so perfect that he knew that he would never be able to leave her. He would stay with her always and fuck her like all kinds of good and bad weather and he would never again think of that Korean girl. He did not need the war now. He understood things deep in his heart that he had never understood before. He understood things that he could not even put into words yet.
But he would put them into words some day, she decided and then he would tell the world the true story of love and that would make him famous and happy and it might even win him the Nobel Prize.
He had thought when he had come on this ship that he would fuck a good murder mystery here.
But, now, as he fucked the tight twat of this wonderful redhead, he knew that he had found something better than a murder mystery could ever be, something more truthful and more needed in the modern world.
What he had found on this ship was both simple and complex.
He had found a love story here, a story that showed that two people can overcome the brutality, the rage, the sick memories of rape and violation, and find love if they just look into each other's eyes and search for it.
It was that love that had gotten him hard, as hard as a rock, and it was that love that turned him on as he continued to move under the redhead, to fuck her with that Nobel Prize-winning grace that she had given him with her own soft looks and her own forgiveness for what he had done.
And now, listening to her little, battered gasps and listening to his own gasps as he fucked her steadily but gently, he knew that love, the love that he felt so suddenly and so magically for this girl, was the reason that he was going to come, to shoot his warm fluid up into her.
Barney felt new.
He felt as if he had just begun to live. And he wondered what had taken him so long.
But it did not matter that it had taken him this long, he thought. What did matter was that he had finally found it. He had finally grasped the big one, the love that had evaded him for so long.
And he had found it on this cruise in a most strange but delightful manner.
The redhead's pussy seemed to tighten around his cock even more and she sighed to him with soft words of love.
"I am coming, Barney. You come too."
She lifted her long arms up over her head and Barney sighed when he saw that red, fiery hair under her arms, growing there just for him. And he did come.
She was coming. He came too.
They came together with sighs and love and all the good things in life.
And later they lay together and held each other and slept in those early morning hours, slept because they were both exhausted from their search and because they were both filled with peace now that they had found what they had been searching for for so long.
It was the sleep that could only come to those who love and know that they are loved.
They slept at the ocean moved under them, so gentle and so free.
EPILOGUE
The captain of the cruise was a big bear of a man who loved making money and helping people.
Well, he liked helping people. He LOVED making money.
That was the reason that he had set up this cruise and that was the reason that he charged so much to give these people the fantasies that they wanted. He had to share his money with a computer firm and interviewers and the personnel of the ship, but he still made a tidy profit every time that that ship went out for one night.
Late that morning, he was sitting in his cabin. He had already gotten the reports. All of the customers were satisfied. Two of them were even going to get married. He had laughed when he had heard that. He had married twice, but he knew now that marriage had a tendency to get stifling after a little while. He did not want to marry again.
Not now, not while he had Pearl with him.
Pearl was the recreation director on the ship, and she really did not do much except fuck the captain. That was why she was hired, and she had gone about her duties in a very eager manner. The captain had sent for Pearl, because he always liked to end a cruise with some of his own pleasure.
The recreation director walked into the captain's cabin in her bikini. She had lusty, big tits and a firm body and a sweet, girlish face. Every time the captain saw her like this he was at first surprised to rediscover how tall she was. She was in her bare feet and she was almost as tall as he was. He thought of her as a little girl who just happened to be something of an Amazon.
Pearl smiled down on the captain.
"Want some company this morning?" she asked.
"Of course," the man growled. "That is why I sent for you, Pearl. You are the best company that any man can have on a beautiful morning like this."
The girl in the-bikini moved across the cabin and looked out the little window.
"It is a beautiful morning, isn't it?" she said. "All of the customers are happy. They are still fucking and frolicking around the ship. And one of them told me that he was going to tell all of his friends about the cruise and what it did for him. I am sure that we will get some extra customers that way."
"We always do," the captain said, standing up and taking off his shirt. He had a big, barrel-like chest and Pearl turned and sighed and cooed when she saw it. She liked playing with him this way, letting him know that she enjoyed making it with him. The fact was that Pearl would have fucked him if he had not hired her as recreation director, but she wanted to fuck him even more because she knew that he paid her salary. And it was a very good salary indeed.
She turned her back on the cabin and made her little, sexy request.
"Undo my top, honey-pie," she sighed.
And he unsnapped the top of her bikini with a calm motion. She pulled the top off and turned around and looked at him. She blinked her big eyes and looked more like a little girl than ever . But she had such big tits that he could not forget that she was, in reality, a sexy, lusty, young woman.
She ran her hand over the crotch of the captain's trousers and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"Let's do it," she said, winking at him. "Let's fuck like crazy while the ship pulls in."
"I guess we might as well," the man said. "Everyone else is fucking like crazy here. All of these rich people are getting it on. I guess that the servant class can do the same."
Pearl giggled. She tossed her dark, curly hair and laughed out loud. She liked it when the captain talked as if he were a member of the lower classes. She knew that he was getting richer with every cruise that they took, and she liked him for his wealth too. She put her arms around his waist and he lowered his face to hers and kissed her passionately. He felt her big tits move against his chest and that softness made him feel hard, hard as a rock. Pearl really turned him on. She was better than any other woman that he had ever fucked. And he had had them in every port in the world back in the days when he was sailing for next-to-nothing. Now he made these little cruises and got richer and richer and got Pearl too. To the captain, it seemed like a great life, a wonderful bargain.
The recreation director moved away from him and pushed her bikini bottoms down her firm tanned legs. She moved out of them and then she turned around and bent over and giggled her firm, little butt at the captain, letting her tits hang down like two sexy globes when she did it. She knew that the captain liked her this way, liked to fuck her from behind.
The man quickly loosened his pants and pulled them off. He was hard, very hard. Pearl always did that to him very quickly. He grabbed his cock and, as usual, could not really believe how hard she had gotten him. No other woman had ever affected him this way.
He thought that it was that combination, that mixture of big tits and girlish impishness that got to him. The captain was not a young man, and he thought of this young woman sometimes as the daughter that he had never had, the daughter that he could have had if he had had better luck in marriage or if he had not traveled around so much on the sea.
But she was not really a daughter. He knew that. She was a sexy, lusty lover, and she offered him her cunt with such a devilish delight that he knew he would be unable to refuse it. He was too hard to refuse it. He moved toward her as she leaned against the back of the chair and spread her legs and showed him her perfect, little cunt, all round and pink and juicy. He held his cock steady and moved it into her pussy with a gentle and loving force.
She sighed as he did that.
"Oh, Captain," she whispered, "that feels so good. Fuck me."
Her voice was little girlish too, and he liked hearing her say those nasty words with that little girl squeal that she had in her voice.
"Like that, Pearl?" he growled as he pumped his cock into her.
"Oh, yes, Captain. I love it. I love your cock. Oh, fuck me harder, harder. Fuck my pussy hard and fast. Captain, I love your cock."
She knew that he loved hearing her say things like that, and that is why she went into such detail. But the fact was that she also liked saying those things. She liked to tell a man how good he was. And the captain was good. His cock was very hard and warm in her pussy, and he knew how to fuck with style.
She leaned over the chair and sighed and moaned and thrashed about. Her tits swung like heavy pieces of sexy, good meat in a butcher's window, and the captain drove into her again and again.
The captain fucked thinking about all the money that he was making oh these cruises, all the wealthy people who were still not happy. He had learned some things over the past few years, since he had started these cruises. He had learned, for example, that the joy that these people felt did not last very long. After a few months, they would return to him and the people who worked with him and ask for another cruise. They would put down their money. Maybe then they would have a new fantasy. Maybe they would want to re-enact the same one. But most of them would return.
And they would tell their friends and their friends would sign up for the cruise because they felt a certain emptiness in their rich lives. They would come on the ship and they would ' fuck and suck and have a lot of fun and then they would tell their friends.
The cruises were already booked up for several weeks in advance. The captain and Pearl and the others would take the ship out again in two days and let some other wealthy people live the lives that they had always wanted to live. There was already talk of getting another ship because the demand there in the rich neighborhoods of California was so great. And there was talk of setting up a similar service in Washington D. C. and in New York City, where other wealthy people lived lives that seemed a little confused and emptied.
All they wanted, the captain thought, was good fucking, fucking like he had with Pearl. He slammed his cock into her precious, perfect, wet little cunt and he growled at her with his passion.
"You feel good, Pearl. Tighten up there a little more. Yeah, that is better. Wow, you really have a great pussy, Pearl."
"Captain," she squealed, "you have a great cock too."
She stood up and trapped his cock in her and felt the captain's hands go around her big tits and squeeze them and she sighed and moaned and fucked him, moved against him with all the thrills in her body. This was better than anything that she had ever done before, she thought. She had money now and she had the captain's cock and she had a good job and she had this fucking that made her life worthwhile. She loved the captain in a weird way. She fucked other men but she knew that she would always come back to this big bear of a man who fucked her with such growling power.
"Oh, Captain," she whimpered in her little-girl voice, "I am coming. Oh, I am coming like crazy."
And it was no lie. The spasms were rushing through her body and she was moving on that cock. She leaned forward again and shivered with the sexual joy that she felt at that moment. It was delicious and it was wonderful, and, before her coming was over, the captain started to come" too.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" he said in his bear-like voice.
"Ohhhhhhhh!" she answered in a squeal.
They came together as the captain pumped gallons of man-cream into her. It felt like gallons to Pearl. It felt like something that would never end, and she hoped that it would not. She would have liked to have fucked the captain for the rest of her life.
When the fucking and the coming was over, the captain slipped his thick cock out of her pussy and the girl staggered toward a bed and lay down and rolled over and smiled up at him. She' closed her eyes and ran her hands over her body and sighed and touched her cunt and remembered the passion that she had just felt.
It was at that moment, he thought, that she looked most like a little girl. Something in his man's heart wanted to pull the, covers on the bed up over her big, sexy tits and tuck her in and kiss her good-night.
But it did not do that. It was not nighttime. It was the middle of a sunny morning. And she was not a little girl. She was the young woman that he had just fucked with his meaty cock.
Pearl moved to one side of the bed and the captain lay down next to her. They held each other and kissed each other and then Pearl asked him the question.
"What is it that those people want?"
"What people?"
"The people who come here and pay all of that money just so that they can fuck. You would think that they would be able to fuck for free in their homes. They are so wealthy and most of them are very attractive."
The captain sighed. He had thought about the same question. So he had an answer for Pearl.
"They want what you and I have, Pearl, wild and abandoned fucking, fun fucking. And they can't get that in their big mansions. They can't get that with all the money in the world. They have to fuck like strangers in order to really get back to the good feeling of fucking, in order to get rid of all the game-playing and the nervousness and the falseness. You see, Pearl, their lives are false;very false, and, when your life has no real truth in it, you cannot fuck in the best and most pleasurable way. That is why they come here, so they can relax and fuck with truth, let all the truth that it is deep inside their heads, all the fantasies that they would not even discuss with anyone, come out and give them joy."
Pearl kissed the man's face.
"We are truthful with each other," she sighed.
"Yes, Pearl," he agreed, "we are. Very truthful. We have no secrets from one another."
"You know that I fuck other men and I know that you sometimes fuck other women."
"Yes."
"But it does not make any difference, does it?"
"No, because we know that we will always return to each other, Pearl."
Then the captain became curious. He asked her the question that had crossed his mind many times.
"What is your sexual fantasy, Pearl? Maybe there is someone in our computer who could match it."
She giggled and held him close.
"You are my fantasy," she said, "and you give me everything I want."
They kissed each other and felt the truth that they shared run from one body to another. They held each other close and the captain looked out the window of his cabin and saw the shoreline come into view as Pearl reached down and felt his cock with her soft and lively hand.
The captain figured that they would fuck their way to shore.
It seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
And, when he felt his cock getting harder and harder as she handled it with her experienced, little-girl fingers, he knew that he would be able to fuck for years as long as he had this sexy woman with him.
She giggled as he moved his hand between her legs and she kissed and licked on his neck as they started to roll on the bed. His cock was getting hard and her pussy was getting wet and they both knew what they were going to do. They knew that it was going to be a great morning, and they knew that they would still be fucking when the ship crept up the shoreline and docked.
All these rich people, the captain thought, as he and Pearl started to turn together there on the bed, all these rich people want just what he had with Pearl.
They wanted good and steady and easy fucking with a partner that wanted them as much as they wanted the partner.
They wanted to be cared for and held and clung to on the sea.
And they were willing to pay a lot of money to get that special feeling on the sea.
The captain felt very lucky as he held Pearl close because he was getting that special feeling for nothing and he was getting it with the sexiest girl he had ever seen.
Good and steady and easy and lustful fucking with a pretty girl.
There was nothing more that any man could ask, the captain thought.
And he could think of nothing more that he wanted in this sea-tossed, crazy world.
They moved together and the captain slipped his hard cock into her again.
And Pearl and the captain fucked their way to shore.
They fucked on the sea and let the sea roll under them as they rolled together there on that lusty bed.
When the ship docked, the wealthy people came out of their cabins and walked down the gangplank to the solid wooden pier. The captain and Pearl looked at them as they left. Couples were hugging each other and waving back at the captain and the crew. They were happy together and they seemed healthier too, colored with the fine flush of lust in their cheeks.
It had been a good night for them all.
But the captain knew that they would be back. The people always came back because the lust did not really last that long.
They would return and pay more money and take another cruise to find another bit of lust and good, natural fucking that they could again take to shore with them.
The captain would be happy to service them-for a price.
He looked at Pearl and grinned. "Let's go ashore and have some lunch," he suggested.
"And then what will we do?" she asked with her little-girl grin.
"Then we will check into a motel and fuck our brains out."
"Okay," she chirped.
And the captain laughed with that good, old-fashioned lust in his manly heart.
