As a writer of and defender of erotic literature, I have spent many years researching and exploring new modes of sexual excitement and satisfaction. It has always been my belief that no means of sexual satisfaction should be denied consenting adults.
It has also been my belief that a great failure in our society is not legalizing prostitution. Which brings me to the point of this book. There is little in erotic literature today that describes or supports the girls who engage discreetly, and I underline discreetly, in unique sexual services to high paying customers.
This book, although written in the form of a fictional novel, is actually the true stories of five such girls. The girl STRAT engages in numerous varied sexual acts for her clients. The acts are a composite picture of the five girls who told their stories: S-Sonya, T-Tiha, R-Ruth, A-Antonia, T-Thomasine.
Three of the girls involved have a live-in companion, the basis of Strat's companion ROZ.
In consenting to this book, the girls asked that I stress the following points:
1. That they felt unanimously that the cause of so many screwed up marriages today was sexual incompatibility. And that if a guy couldn't persuade his wife to indulge in his sexual quirks then he ought to have, legally, the opportunity to go out and satisfy his quirk at least once a month. That alone would resolve a lot of frustrated conflict in marriage.
2. Dispel the myth that prostitutes, at least as Sonya put it, "high class prostitutes," don't enjoy themselves in a paid relationship. Ruth added, "How do people think we keep regular customers unless we've communicated our pleasure in the relationship? A girl could act once in a while, but not all the time. If I meet a man and have an instant dislike, I don't follow through. I pass him on. It's good for me and it's good for the business." The other girls agreed.
3. That companions like Roz do not mean lesbianism, which so many people think prostitutes are. Roz fills a special need, "a house pet, if you will," Tina said laughing. "Frankly," Antonia added, "I'd have a houseboy, but too many girls have gotten into trouble with extra men around."
I thank the girls for their stories and hope the readers come away feeling a little less hostile to girls who are fulfilling a definite need in our sexually repressive society.
-RONA WEST
CHAPTER ONE
Strat stretched lazily on the full, king sized bed. Her movement shifted the sheet off Roz, her roommate, who slept soundly beside her, exposing a smooth, ivory white, thin shoulder.
Strat raised herself up on her elbows and moved the sheet down to Roz's bare stomach. Enviously, she studied the small, upright, conical shaped breast topped with large, brown nipples. The nipples were relaxed in sleep and almost absent-mindedly, Strat reached out a hand and gently fingered the soft, warm nipple of Roz's right breast.
Roz didn't stir. Her long, black hair spread out over the beige satin pillowcase and the thin, almost bony, white body gleamed against the matching shiny beige sheet.
Damn her, Strat thought with an affectionate smile, studying Roz's body. Roz could eat hot fudge sundaes three times a day and never gain a pound.
Strat looked down at her own full, ample body that kept her on a continuous diet and an arduous exercise schedule to keep the smooth slightly curved stomach and firm hips.
Under her moving, gently rotating finger, the nipple hardened slightly, but still Roz didn't awake. For a moment, Strat wondered what her roommate had done last night that kept her so soundly asleep. She leaned back on the pillow, placing the palm of her hand flat against Roz's breast and felt the nipple slowly soften under the heat of her hand.
She laughed out loud as she thought about her own evening. It had been somewhat of a drag, she decided. It wasn't the guy.
Irving had been nice enough. She guessed him to be about fifty. He was a little bald and a little on the paunchy side, but eager as hell and she had liked him right off.
He had agreed to two hundred right off. The worst kind of guy was the bargainer. She had learned to deal with the bargainer pretty effectively. Just raise the price, chop off the raise, and he was happy, because he had a bargain to tell his friends about.
She giggled aloud. Yeah, she thought, the sonofabitch gave me the two hundred okay, but he sure did me in.
She had met him at a good restaurant. He had come well recommended. Strat was beyond pick-ups. They had to have a connection to get her phone number. And they had to play according to rules and unless they were a favored customer, the rules were public meeting places. Expensive ones.
The damn fool had talked his head off through dinner. Real nervous type, she figured. But she didn't give a damn what he talked about, so long as it wasn't about his wife. Those were the creeps. Justifying their own guilt at her time.
All through dinner, he kept his hand under the table, massaging and pinching her thighs, rubbing her knees with his, his eyes eating her up through dinner.
She ordered enough good strong martinis not to care what he was doing under the table and by the time they were through eating, her pussy was wet and tingling. She was ready for a good fuck, but she sighed. That was a sure sign she wouldn't get one.
Strat's specialty was unique desires by her clients. She never knew what they wanted. But she was ready for anything. And usually, the desire was bizarre. The worst part was to turn herself on first. That almost always ended in complete frustration.
Oh, well, she'd thought, smiling seductively at Irving, if you want a real fuck, baby, I promise you more than your two bills. More than I'm sure you expect.
When they arrived at the hotel, she had even thought for a moment that he was going to make it on his own in the elevator. She stood in back of the operator, her back against Irving, and his cock pressed through his pants as hard as a rock. Yeah, I was all set, she thought and giggled again.
In the hotel room, just like that, all of his earlier passionate eagerness disappeared. He opened his wallet and pulled out two hundred dollar bills and handed them to her. Then very seriously, he said, "My understanding is that you will do anything I ask...."
Whoops, she had thought. Here it comes. But she smiled, her sexiest smile, and answered, "I'm going to do MORE for you, baby. I like you." She kept her voice low and husky, her eyelids half lowered.
He frowned and said, "All I want is for you to do whatever I ask you to do."
She shrugged nonchalantly. Her action would tell him what she meant. "Whatever you say, sugar lump," she said with a smile.
She slipped out of her dress slowly, moving her body sensuously as she did. To her surprise, she realized he wasn't watching. He was pulling off his own pants and his shorts, neatly folding them over the back of the chair.
Annoyed, she stopped her act, waiting for his attention. He turned. "Well?" he asked with a note of concern in his voice.
"Well, nothing," she answered. "I thought you might want to watch, that's all." She stared at him steadily, searching for a hidden response, a twitch in the face, a glint in the eye.
"Oh, I do." His eyes gleamed with sudden alertness. "That's it exactly. I do want to watch."
She frowned and then quickly smiled. Thrusting out her ample chest and sucking in her waist, she unfastened her garter belt, struck a pose shifting her hips and carefully rolled down each stocking. She never wore underwear and now she had his full attention.
She placed her stockings on the dresser and walked, swaying her hips, over to stand before him and await his comment. "Aren't you going to take off your shirt?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer, but reached behind her and unsnapped her bra quickly, looking down at her full smooth breasts. To her surprise, he didn't touch them. He pulled the bra over her arms rapidly and tossed it to the dresser beside her stockings.
Strat's cunt was hot and wet. She moved her body before him, not her feet, only her body from side to side, her legs close enough together to feel the friction of the movement. Her nipples jutted out instantly. She reached her hands out toward his shoulders and he took a quick step backward.
His cock was full and stiff, the heart shaped tip a gleaming pink, the tiny slit in the center opened slightly. He closed his hand around the base of his erect prick and moved it up and down slowly, his eyes staring down at her cunt.
Strat's cunt was blonde and silky. She shampooed it and used a cream rinse on it to keep the thin hair soft and smooth.
"Lovely," she whispered softly, staring down at his thick erection, "I think it's ready."
He didn't answer, but stood about two feet away from her, his eyes glued to her box. She knelt down on the floor and raised both hands up, beckoning him to bring his prick to her mouth.
Irving shook his head slightly and said, "I want to see it. Stand up on the dresser."
She rose from the floor and climbed onto a straight chair to the low dresser. She spread her legs wide and he quickly sat down on the chair before her looking up at her wet cunt. He stroked his cock up and down and wet his lips several times. He never looked at her, only at her pussy.
"Show me," he said, his voice hoarse. "Show me some more."
She shrugged, more to herself than he, arched her shoulders back, squeezing them together till her breasts strained outward and her hips thrust further toward him, her legs still wide apart.
She lowered her hands to her inner thighs squeezing them and kneading the flesh, bringing her hands closer and closer to her soft hot cunt till she reached the silky lips.
He moaned slightly, but still kept the regular steady motion on his cock. His legs were spread and he sat on the very edge of the chair. Looking down, Strat could see a small drop of colorless liquid squeezing out of the pink bulging cockhead.
She spread the lips of her cunt as far apart as she could, moving her fingers up and down the hairless, pink inside moat that surrounded her clit. Her clit tingled and swelled under the pressure of her fingers. She longed to grasp and rub till she exploded. But this was a job and he would decide when and if she could come. She was relieved that despite the hot look in his eyes, he didn't increase the pace of his hand.
"Step down," he said, his voice low and his breathing heavy.
She climbed quickly down and he instructed her to stand in the middle of the floor with her legs as wide apart as she could stretch them.
He lay on the floor on his back, between her legs, staring up at her hot hungry cunt hole. "Open it," he gasped.
She moved her hands down between her legs, pushing her buttocks apart, separating the inner thighs further and further up, squeezing and kneading to release the strain of her own rising desire.
Strat stared hungrily down at the cock in his hand, now standing straight up, bulging, in his moving hand, the bluish-white veins throbbed against the taut skin and tiny drop after drop formed at the full cockhead.
Watching his cock, her own breath grew heavier with desire. She had thought at first he would lower her cunt to his mouth, but he said nothing, and she fought down the desire to spring onto him and plunge his full throbbing cock deep inside her.
Suddenly, he rolled out from under her and asked her to turn and bend over, resting her head for support against the armchair and separate her buttocks. Her face was hot and flushed, her eyes burned with desire, and she moved quickly into position.
She was growing more and more anxious to end his preliminaries and satisfy her own raging passions that quickened her breath and sent bolts of zigzagged electric spasms inside her from her hard, tight nipples to her hot wet cunt.
Now Strat couldn't see his cock, but she was certain she could hear his hand moving on his luscious cock, at this point too fast, she thought, mixed with his heavy breathing through his mouth. "Stand," he said.
She turned quickly toward him. "I can't take it much more, baby. Fuck me with that big, beautiful dick of yours," she pleaded.
He ignored her and directed her to the couch. He positioned her on her back on the floor, the bed pillows beneath her lower back, her legs wide apart up on the couch. Automatically, she moved her hands down again to her inner thighs separating her soft blonde cunt lips with her thumbs and her fingers stretched down to her cunt hole opening wide.
He climbed up on the couch, stood hunched over the pillows between her upright legs, his head bent over, staring down at her cunt.
She stared up at his full cock. He seemed oblivious to her eyes, to her at all, his eyes were glued to her cunt, both hands now at his groin, one fondling the full, hairy, well hung balls, the other moving faster and faster up and down the shaft of his prick.
He moaned in gasping, strangling sounds as the pace of his hand increased, the muscles in his bare, hairy thighs tensed and faintly twitched on the surface of the inner sides.
Suddenly, he groaned loudly and collapsed backward against the couch and wall with a loud thud, a thick white fountain spurted in an arc beside her prone body to the floor.
Quickly, she moved her hands roughly and savaging up and down on her clit, but in her surprise at what happened, the height of passion raging inside her had subsided too far to make it quickly.
He stepped off the couch still panting slightly. He pulled on his pants quickly. Strat moved her legs down to the floor, stood up, and then sat down suddenly on the couch, eyeing him curiously, wondering if that was it.
It wasn't that she minded his act itself. She always reasoned, like most professionals, "to each his own." What you dig, you dig. And so long as you're not actually harming or hurting anybody, anything in the sack was okay.
What was bugging her was she was horny. Damned horny. So hot, it was almost unbearable. Sitting on the couch, she felt the painful ache in her cunt from no relief. She waited patiently for some sign that there was more to come.
But he began to thank her and told her she was marvelous. Everything he had heard she was. She didn't answer him, but smiled pleasantly. It was a job. And he'd paid well. Being horny was her problem, not his.
Timidly, he asked if he might call her the next time he came to town. She was dismissed. She knew that.
"Of course," she said, her voice soft and low and friendly. "In fact, when you're certain you're coming, why don't you give me a call in advance, so I'll be sure to keep the evening open."
He thanked her gratefully and she dressed quickly. She didn't sit down again for fear her wet cunt would soak right through her dress onto the furniture. It wasn't the furniture she cared about, it was going out with too obviously wet a backside.
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and she left the hotel room quickly. On the elevator, she shifted about uncomfortably. Her sticky cunt juices were flooding into the soft hair, matting it, and causing an unpleasant itch. She rubbed her thighs together discreetly, but it only increased the friction on her swollen clit.
To her relief, the doorman held a cab at the front door of the lobby for her. She slipped into the taxi swiftly and the door slammed behind her. She gave the driver her home address.
Strat sank back into the brown, dusty leather seat, silently sliding her legs wide apart in the dark, feeling a cool breeze against her searing cunt from the open window.
The cool air was a slight relief, but didn't ease the throbbing itch in her box. She lit a cigarette and slowly slipped her free hand up under her dress. She was going to last the long ride home. Her eyes rested on the young driver's picture on the license fastened to the dashboard.
"I've changed my mind," she called out to him. "I want to think something over before I go home. Will you drive around the park? I'll tell you when to leave."
He didn't answer, merely grunted his assent, and in a few minutes they swung into the park. The air was even cooler in the shadows of the trees and the dim streetlights reflected eerily. Strat tossed her cigarette out the window and leaned back against the seat.
She stared at the cabbie's picture steadily and the cab moved silently and slowly on the circular drive about the park. Beneath her dress, her probing finger against the hot mound of flesh moved steadily.
The cab was a new one and the motor was low and rhythmic. In her mind, the cab moved on driverless, and the driver was in the backseat beside her, telling her that he had had another passenger, but had refused, because he could see her coming through the lobby and knew she not only needed a cab, she needed his gigantic tool.
He unzipped his pants bringing out one of the biggest cocks she had ever seen. She knew he wasn't lying about seeing her coming across the lobby because his cock was already so stiff and hard. There was no work or foreplay necessary. All she had to do was guide the enormous thick cock into her aching, hungry cunt and suck it up inside her.
Beneath her dress her finger moved faster and faster on the tip of her clit, alternately rotating around it rapidly and then pressing into the tiny m-shaped surface. His face was beautiful. She would love him forever.
Suddenly, her body stiffened, her muscles rigid, her knees pressed against the back of the seat, as the blood rushed through her veins, thrashing about inside her against her taut skin. The explosion inside her burst through every pore in her body.
She stifled the cry in her throat, the cry of ecstasy, pleasure, and relief that tore her lungs. Slowly, her rigid muscles drained and weakened as the cab moved on slowly through the dimly lit park.
Quickly, she took a handkerchief from her purse and dried her wet hand, slipped it up under her dress swiftly mopping her dripping cunt, again fearing the embarrassingly obvious wet spot on the back of her dress.
She breathed deeply with relief and wondered for a moment, if her driver/lover on the seat and in the dashboard knew what had happened in the back seat. Could he smell the love juice inside the cab, did it permeate through the protecting window shield that was slightly open on the passenger side of the front seat? Could he smell that same strong smell that permeated her bedroom after such a climax? That she could not smell now, but knew was in the air.
Nervously, she lit a cigarette, inhaling and exhaling rapidly several times to fill the back of the cab with the heavy odor of smoke.
Strat studied his profile now. If he knew, he didn't register it. She smiled to herself, relieved and at the same time pleased at her success.
Now, the morning after, lying on the bed beside Roz, thinking about the cabbie, she burst out laughing. She knew his face, at least the face in the Police Department mug shot on the license, and she knew his cock and body, at least how she wished to know it, but she couldn't remember his name. She wasn't even sure she had noted it.
"See what you did, Irving my love," she said out loud, looking up at the white ceiling over the bed. "I always remember their names for at least a day in case I left something in their cab."
Some swinging night you had, she said to herself. But two bills is two bills. And someday, I think I really will take a cabbie in the cab and in the park. For old times' sake.
She was in a good mood and she felt good. Roz had been asleep, when she had come in last night and she was surprised she was still sleeping now. Roz was the one who was usually up first.
Strat raised herself up on her left elbow, moving her hand from the small breast and shifting sideways to look down at her roommate. Roz was a natural beauty. Her dark eyelashes resting against the smooth curve that ran into her high cheekbones were so thick she couldn't have worn false lashes if she tried.
Gently, Strat moved her hands over the small, perfectly formed breasts, fingering the large, brown nipples. The younger girl was like a kid sister to her. She had no sisters or brothers herself and while she was aware of a faint envy for the younger girl's beauty and enthusiasm, her envy was totally overshadowed by her own awareness and acceptance of the hero-worship that Roz showed for her.
At the time she had let Roz move in with her, she had not been sure she should do it. But almost like a pet, once inside, Strat knew that she could never get rid of her unless Roz herself decided to go out on her own.
Roz had little income, but Strat had pointed out that there wasn't any sense in taking a job, since Strat made more than enough for both of them to live damned well. Roz at first protested, saying she didn't want to be a parasite.
Strat had promptly come up with the ideal situation. She officially hired Roz as her personal secretary, giving her room and board plus an allowance. Occasionally, and quite happily, Roz accepted an arrangement for an evening with a guy in place of Strat when Strat had other commitments. Of course, Strat screened such dates carefully. It wasn't just anyone who got Roz for a night. Only a select group.
One of the smartest things I ever thought of, Strat mused, looking fondly down at her roommate. Their relationship so far had been so smooth and easy from the beginning that Strat had entirely lost those occasional moments of depression and panic about her way of life. The times when she was convinced that she should chuck it all, marry the first guy who came along, and have children.
Her good spirits filled her. She was eager to see Roz's face when she opened the box that should arrive sometime this week that contained a slinky slack suit the same color as the girl's eyes that Strat had ordered for her.
A feeling of love, affection, and happiness about life pervaded her senses. It was a good life, she decided firmly. A good life.
Slowly and tenderly, she moved the satin sheet further down to Roz's thighs. She studied the slim, lean, white body beside her, with no stomach at all. Instead of the slight curve that showed on Strat's belly, even when she was flat on her back. Roz's stomach was a small smooth crater, faintly indented. Her small hips formed the rims of either side of the crater jutted out slightly and her furry black cunt rose like a small hill and then sloped gently down between her slender, but shapely thighs.
Lightly, Strat moved the palm of her hand down into the crater and up over the hill, cupping the soft mound. Roz's cunt hairs were pitch black, short and curly. But under Strat's instructions to Roz about creme rinses, they were now silky under Strat's light touch.
Moving her hand further down over Roz's thighs, she leaned over and lightly tongued one brown nipple. The nipple stirred under her tongue, but the girl didn't.
Again she wondered what she'd done last night. Not with anger or annoyance or jealousy for that matter, merely out of curiosity. She enjoyed Roz's breathless tales of her occasional adventures in bed.
Her mouth open, breathing lightly across Roz's breasts, she tongued the other nipple. Lightly brushing Roz's skin with her tongue, Strat went from one breast to the other.
The smooth brown skin surrounding the large nipple shriveled slightly under her hot mouth and she licked slightly harder now to wet the surface of the skin, knowing when her hot breath moved away the air would stimulate the nipple even further.
Under her probing tongue, Roz stirred faintly, but still didn't open her eyes. But in her sleep, she opened her legs forming a small vee below her small hill-like cunt.
Both nipples were erect now and Strat's mouth moved slowly down into the crater of her stomach, pausing at the tiny dark navel that always seemed odd to her, because it appeared so dark against the pale whiteness of the young girl's skin.
Her tongue tickled and rotated the rim of Roz's navel several times until it plunged inside, moving around the odd ridges inside the small hole.
As her tongue probed, a deep surge of warmth and affection spread through her for Roz. It wasn't passion. Her own cunt was surprisingly unaroused. She had a strong desire to simply make love to Roz to express her love.
She moved her mouth away from her navel and gently traced the girl's hiplines with her wet tongue. For a moment, she wondered why she herself was so unaroused. At every other time, they had been together making love, Strat had been alive with passion.
She decided it was probably due to the night before. Although she had wound up satisfying herself with whatever his name was's picture, she had still missed the feeling of pleasure and fulfillment it gave her to pet, stroke, and arouse a man, to make love to him too. Even though he was paying for just ministrations.
It was Strat who had first made love to Roz. Roz had agreed, although visibly reluctant and Strat had used her old philosophy to relax her. "What was the difference?" she had argued smoothly. "A blow job's a blow job. Whether it's on a male or on a female. And if it gives you pleasure, why not?"
She had still looked nervous and Strat had added gently, "Actually, I love being sucked off anytime by anyone. So long as they know how to do it. And that's where I think women have the edge, because they're aware of those exact spots on each other that really count in a live blow job."
Roz had agreed it sounded logical, but finally blurted out, her face red with embarrassment, "A blow job might be a blow job, but I never had one nor gave one."
Strat had stifled the laughter that threatened inside her stomach, knowing that at that moment, a laugh might be irretrievable for Roz. Instead, she had gently made love to her. Roz had responded in an unexpected burst of passion, begging Strat to teach her how.
Moving her tongue on Roz's hips lightly, she smiled remembering how quickly Roz had learned exactly what to do with her own mouth and before long was experimenting beyond her teacher's instruction.
At one time, Roz had worried about lesbianism. Strat had shrugged and said, "Don't be ridiculous. A les either can't or doesn't make it with men. We don't have that problem."
Roz had smiled gratefully, relieved, and never brought it up again. In a motherly way, Strat worried about whether it would affect Roz, not because she thought it would, but because Roz had even mentioned it at all. She stopped worrying when she realized Roz was making it successfully and happily with several young men.
Lovely Roz, Strat thought, what would I do without her and what did I do before without her.
Strat sat upright on the bed and tossed the slippery sheet off the bed exposing the full length of Roz's slim body. She slipped slightly off the bed, standing at the foot, and gripped her ankles. Gently she pushed the girl's legs a little wider apart.
Smiling, she climbed on to the bed, resting her knees at the foot, and lowered her head, lightly tonguing up one leg to the thigh and down again. Then the other. Up again, past her knees, she moved her head deeper between the small vee and sucked the tender, firm inner side of her thighs.
Roz stirred and spread her legs wider apart. "Mmmm," she murmured. Strat moved her arms up between Roz's legs, underneath her to her buttocks raising her ass slightly upward, supporting the light weight in her hands by resting on her elbows.
Roz raised her knees and bent them, her feet flat on the bed, her legs now wide apart.
Teasingly, Strat moved her tongue about the soft furry cunt, brushing it lightly over the hair from the top of the mound down into the curve that disappeared in the hot hole below.
Roz moaned slightly and thrust her hips further toward the probing tongue. The heat spread rapidly through her thighs and her clit begged for contact with the skillful tongue.
Her clit expanded under the heat of Strat's hot mouth, the tiny red tip pushed out from under the furry blanket of thick hair that held it imprisoned.
Lightly and teasingly, the tip of Strat's tongue flicked against the top edge of the wet, swollen clit. Above her, Roz groaned, "Don't tease, you're driving me crazy."
Roz struggled to sit up, but Strat pinched her buttocks, holding her ass down.
"Turn around, come up here and let me do you too, please Strat." Her voice was husky and heavy.
"Shh," Strat said, "Lie down and enjoy it." Roz groaned weakly and laid back down, pushing her legs further apart, thrusting her hips higher. Strat moved her hands back between her legs and Roz slipped her own hands under her ass to raise her cunt to Strat's mouth.
Still teasing the full knob of flesh with her tongue that peeped out between the hairy lips, Strat tenderly parted the lips, running her hot tongue up and down the tracts that surrounded the full, thick clit.
Above her, Roz moaned and thrust her hips hard against Strat's mouth, pushing into the delicious tongue that held her back, watching the mouth close over her pulsating clit.
In the efforts, her movements grew wilder and she was inching down the bed, raising her cunt higher and higher. "Do it, do it," she cried out to her tormentor, her senses oblivious to anything, but releasing the hot lava inside her erupting cunt.
Strat closed her mouth around Roz's clit, her lips tightened, sucking the small explosive piece of flesh further and further into her mouth. She released the cunt lips and they closed around her face. Strat sucked the clit as far into her mouth as she could pull it. Sucking steadily, she tongued the tip.
Above her, Roz gasped and flung her legs around Strat's head gripping her head tightly and her upper body writhing wildly on the bed. For Roz that plunge over the top took every nerve in her body with it. At that instant, she was always sure that she could never be able to feel anything again. Nor did she want to.
Slowly, her legs relaxed and then she lowered them to the bed. Feeling the grip of Roz's tight legs loosen, Strat released the pressure of the vacuum she had closed over Roz's clit. Opening her mouth wider, she licked the sweet juices that flowed over Roz's cunt.
"Mmmm," Roz murmured.
Strat raised up and rolled over Roz's inert body, flopping down on her back.
"What was that all about?" Roz asked, her voice lazy and relaxed.
Strat laughed. "Don't you know what it was all about? That's a silly question."
Roz grinned. "I know what THAT was all about. I meant, why not you too?"
"I don't know," Strat answered, "I just felt like it. That's your annual fringe benefit."
Roz giggled.
"Listen, love," Strat said, sitting up on the bed with a sudden jolt of energy, unexpectedly, "I've got an appointment today about a coat I'm going to order. A real treat from me to me. I think I've earned it!"
"Mmmm," Roz murmured, her body still warm and comfortable, "I'll say you've earned it so to speak." Her voice trailed off still thick with sex and warmth.
Strat laughed and slapped her affectionately on the backside. "Anyway, I've got to split right away. I almost forgot about it. It's an appointment deal. But what I wanted to ask was would you be a real angel and go down to my hairdresser's and pick up my wig? It's been there almost a week."
"So what's the rush?" Roz asked lazily, unwilling to even think about getting up out of the bed.
"I don't have time to get my hair done today," Strat said smiling down at her roommate, knowing how good the young girl felt. "If I've got a date tonight, I'm likely to lose my reputation, if I look like this."
Roz giggled at the idea of Strat losing her reputation and said, "You know I will, but," she added mischievously, "you're supposed to pay me after I do a job, not before I do it!"
Strat smiled affectionately and went to the bathroom. Roz stretched lazily on the huge bed, listening to Strat in the bathroom singing in the shower.
Wow, she thought, what a way to wake up. It should never be any other way. A contented smile crossed her lips. God, I'm tired all over again. She closed her heavily lashed eyes and dozed off into a light sleep.
"Hey, you, love," Strat shook her shoulder gently, smiling at her dozing roommate, "I don't care how long you stay in bed, but for Christ's sake, don't forget my goddamned wig. I can't go out without it. Remember, you're protecting the family reputation."
Roz grinned, her eyes still closed, "Will do, my love," she answered lazily. "I'd want nothing to do with ruining our family's famed reputation."
They both laughed merrily and Strat sailed out of the bedroom. "See you later," Strat shouted as she slammed the door shut tight, checking the lock behind her carefully.
"You're a regular old lady about that girl," she chided herself out loud. Well, she thought, why shouldn't you be. She is your family when you come down to it. And every girl needs a family!
She frowned at the thought. Does every girl need a family, she asked herself snidely. Just what in the hell would you do with a family. I can see you now, knee deep in diapers and the rest of the happy horseshit that goes along with that scene. Strat, my dear, if you start thinking family you're in a hell of a lot of trouble.
Then she smiled broadly, thinking about the coat she was on her way downtown to order. "Yeah," she muttered, "You wouldn't be ordering any mixed fur collection with a family on your hands now, girl, just remember that!"
CHAPTER TWO
Roz heard the apartment door locks snap and pulled the sheet up over her naked body. Strat was like a mother hen, she thought, double locking the door when she left the house to be sure nothing happens to little Roz. She giggled aloud.
She adored Strat without reservation. When she was a young kid, her girlfriends her own age all had crushes on some female movie star or some famous woman that everybody knew about. They dressed, walked and talked like her. But Roz had met Strat and Strat became her model.
Strat had lived in Roz's neighborhood in Brooklyn and she had babysat for Roz. From the first time Strat had taken care of her, Roz had liked her. She let Roz stay up past her parents' to bed order, gave her ice-cream and soda, and regaled her with stories.
Strat had been every little kid's vision of the ideal babysitter. The dream babysitter. As she grew older, Roz knew Strat entertained friends when she babysat and she knew instinctively that that was forbidden. But she had never squealed on her, knowing she wouldn't be her babysitter any more.
Roz was an only child and neither parent let her alone. At twelve, to her embarrassment, she still had a babysitter at night. And she was the only kid in the neighborhood her age who did. She confided a lot in Strat and the older girl had told her smoothly not to fight with her parents, that that was useless, that what she should do is just not tell anyone that she still had a babysitter.
Strat had even promised her that if anybody asked her, she would tell them that she was a friend of Roz's and had just come over to keep her company when her parents weren't home.
That was the start of Roz's adoration. Roz closed her eyes, burying her head in the satin pillows. From that moment on, twelve year old Roz had decided that Strat was her best friend. In her mind, she had adopted her as her older sister.
Roz giggled again. Strat had certainly been her older sister all right. Roz had had her first period when she was eleven and her mother had whispered to her in the bathroom, out of her father's hearing, that it was a curse, the heaviest cross that a woman bore. And now that Roz had had it, she would suffer the rest of her life.
Roz had been terrified. Among her girlfriends, they whispered about "it" and each had a different theory about men and babies. The funniest part was that no one believed the one girl in their crowd who had been told the truth and had related it. That was simply too far-fetched.
It was Strat who had told Roz the story of life and the truth about the curse.
I'm sure she didn't plan to, though, Roz thought, remembering that night that had changed her own young life so shockingly.
Her parents were out to a party. Roz had been on a picnic that day and she was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. She fell asleep on the couch talking to Strat. She didn't wake up when Strat had carried her into her bedroom and tucked her in.
The doorbell woke her and she had sat up in bed listening. The short deep sleep had revived her and she listened intently to the low voices coming from the living room.
There was a boy in there and strangely enough, his voice sounded familiar. Roz couldn't quite place it, but she knew she had heard it somewhere before.
The voices were a little louder now and there was a lot of giggling. Roz crept out of bed into the hall and listened to the boy's voice intently. It was Bobby! The boy who had delivered the groceries from the market. Last year, she had had a crush on him. He was fifteen and at that time, he was her idea of a sophisticated man. But what was he doing in her house?
Roz crept down the dark hall and at the doorway to the living room she knelt on the floor and peeked around the frame and stared in amazement.
Bobby and Strat were sitting on the couch, talking and laughing together. Bobby had his arm around Strat's shoulder and sat up close next to her.
Strat teased the young boy. "You've really grown up in the last year. I can't get over it."
Bobby blushed and squeezed her shoulder tightly. "I've been around a little," he said boldly, leaning over and kissing Strat on the mouth.
Strat responded, drawing his face closer, her lips wet and her mouth open. She probed his lips with her tongue. Slowly, he opened his mouth and her hot tongue plunged inside as she sucked hard with her lips on his mouth, her tongue running rapidly around inside his mouth, exploring his teeth and the rough surface of the roof of his eager mouth.
Bobby hugged her shoulder, his free hand came up her waist to her full pointed breasts and he squeezed gently. His tongue met Strat's, their mouths open wide, their tongues circled each other.
Strat pulled back, smiling. "Air! You must have been around," she added, her eyes twinkling and a seductive smile on her full rich lips.
He grinned and her hand slid down to the crotch of his tight blue jeans. He wet his lips as she squeezed the hard lump inside his skin tight pants. She rubbed her hand up and down on the hard, still hidden cock, concentrating knowingly on the tender head. She watched him steadily as she played with his solid crotch.
Bobby's eyes glowed and he licked his lips several times. Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it up out of the tight skirt band exposing the white lace bra. Her large creamy white tits bulged over the low cut cups, and he rubbed the palm of his broad hand on the lace cloth that covered the nipple.
"Mmmm," Strat sighed. "Feels good. Very good, young man."
He slid his hand around her under the blouse and struggled to unhook the bra. He was clumsy, but determined.
Smiling gently, she helped him wordlessly, keeping one hand down on his cock that strained against the tight cloth imprisoning it.
Bobby brought his hand back and raised the cups of her bra, freeing the large creamy mounds and the pink full nipples were raised in a smooth curve upward. His hand caressed her full breasts, the palms running all over them. His long fingers tickled and pinched the pink nipples until they jutted out, hard little knobs that under his lightly pinching, squeezing fingers turned a darker pink.
Strat unbuckled his belt expertly and unzipped the tight jeans, spreading the flaps in a wide vee. He lowered his warm, young mouth to her breast sucking and nibbling at the erect nipples.
She pulled at the elastic band of his jockey shorts, freeing the young, hard cock that had strained to escape the barrier between her hot, soft hand and its urgent, throbbing nerves. Strat stroked his prick in her closed fist, pushing down to the base and up to the top. She stretched out her fingers along its sensitive underside.
"You've really got a big one for your age," she said softly with just the right note of admiration for a young boy.
He didn't reply, but the mouth that worked frantically on her tits sucked harder in response, moving from one to the other, sucking and nibbling the nipples and then pulling the breast further in and out of his hot mouth. His breath was heavy and his hands pulled and pushed her breasts faster and faster communicating his youthful energy.
The silk crotch of Strat's panties was already saturated and her hot cunt pulsed and tingled for contact. The tight elastic in the legs of her panties rubbed and bit uncomfortably into her fiery skin. Her mouth open, her breath short, she plunged her hand down inside the crotch of his jeans, tenderly massaging and fondling his hard, young balls.
Bobby pulled her blouse off and her bra followed swiftly. The sleeve and bra strap hung off the couch still on the wrist of her moving hand, buried deep inside his pants. He raised up slightly from the couch and pushed his jeans down over his hips.
Strat moved her hand up, dropped her bra and blouse to the floor, and bent over to push his jockey shorts and jeans down to his ankles. He unzipped her skirt, kicking his shoes off, and she raised up to slide out of her tight skirt.
Nearly naked, they sat still for a moment speechless, Strat's face flushed and ready, Bobby's eyes bright and eager.
Without a word, they stood. Strat kicked off her shoes and skirt and slid her panties off. Bobbie stepped out of his tangled jeans and shorts. Nude, they faced one another. Their eyes locked and they embraced, pressing their naked bodies close together and then kissed, long and hard, their hot tongues moving frantically against each other's.
Still clutching one another, they sank to the floor, rolling about, Strat's tits mashed into his chest, Bobbie's hard, long prick pressing between her hot legs.
Bobbie rolled on his side and lowered his hungry mouth to her tits, sucking noisily on one nipple. His other hand stroked her full white body, eagerly running over the slight curves of soft, but firm flesh and then down into the silky blonde cunt, squeezing and exploring the lips, his fingers in a vee pressed down into the furrows and like pincers squeezed the throbbing mound of flesh.
Strat moaned at his touch, her hand shot out to grab the cock she wanted so desperately. Her hand moved wildly up and down the taut tender skin, up to the heart-shaped pink cockhead, squeezing till small drops leaked through the tiny split in the center, and then back down into the hard, hairy balls, under them and around them, tickling the soft, hairy inner thigh of his muscular young thighs.
His fingers moved over her clit, jabbing lower down into the steaming wet cunt hole, pushing inside, first one finger and then two locked together inside the tight walls of her hungry pussy.
"Mount me! Mount me! I want your cock!" Her cry was a half moan, her face was flushed and her eyes burned into his as he raised his head from her breasts.
"Yes," he groaned. Moving his hand from her cunt, he knelt swiftly between her wide spread legs.
Strat stretched her legs further apart, her knees bent, her box now wide open, sopping wet. He pressed his hands to the floor at her sides, and guided his hard, long cock into her pussy.
She slipped her hand down. Grabbing it firmly, she pushed it into her yawning, hungry hole. He thrust his prick in with one fast stab and she moaned in pleasure as his balls slapped against the under curve of her buttocks.
Bobby raised himself upright on his knees, his hands went below her raising her ass up, pulling her cunt closer to him. She swung her spread legs up to his chest, her feet pressed tightly against his head.
His hips moved back and forth slowly, his hard thick cock slid in and out in an easy rhythmic motion. Moaning, Strat rolled her ass in his hands from side to side in a counter movement, feeling the cock press into every side of the deep, twitching cavern.
Bobby's face was flushed and tense, his muscles taut in his arms and legs and he thrust faster and faster into her. Her hips moved in a frenzy to keep his pace as she clutched wildly at his forearms, her nails digging in to his skin.
Strat cried out, a long, low wail, as her body stiffened, motionless, her being suspended as the passion exploded through her. Above her, Bobby groaned, a tearing strangled sound, and fell down on her. Her legs wrapped tight around his body, her arms buried beneath his chest.
In the doorway, young Roz stood in full view, her eyes open wide in amazement. As she had watched, she had forgotten that she was peeking and had without realizing it moved to the center of the doorway to see better.
She had never seen a man naked before and could not recall ever even seeing her mother naked before. She was not sure what they were doing or what they had done, it now seemed to be over, but she was fascinated.
The crotch of her pajamas felt strangely hot and wet, uncomfortable. And her small, young breasts, just beginning to develop, had a peculiar ache, a pain that she had not experienced before, but it was not really unpleasant.
She had a strange desire to rub her breasts and to scratch the itchy wet hair between her legs, but that was something that her mother had told her never to do, because she would get a disease that was incurable.
Calmer, her heavy breathing almost back to normal, Strat lay motionless beneath Bobby's hot, sweating body. She turned her head and her eyes met Roz's.
She smiled, seemingly unconcerned, and said, "For Christ's sake, look who's here. We have an audience."
Bobby jerked his head upright and looked in horror at the little girl in the doorway. "My God!" he cried. His face was an instant deep red and he sprang from the floor, grabbing his clothes in a fumbling pile, holding them up in front of him to hide his naked body.
Strat burst into laughter, unable to stop. She clutched her sides, her eyes tearing as she looked up at Bobbie. His face was still bright red and he clutched his clothes in front of him, stared at Roz's curious face in shock. Then without a word, he fled from the room to the bathroom. In seconds, before Strat had recovered from her laughter, he was back, half-dressed, still buttoning his shorts, as he ran out the front door without a word.
Strat rose from the floor and picked up her clothes. "Well, just don't stand there like a do-do. Come on in and sit down," she said casually, dressing slowly.
Roz came in and sat on the couch awkwardly, wanting to ask questions, but not knowing how to say what she wanted to ask.
Strat pulled on her tight skirt, smiled at the girl, and said, "Well, kiddo, was that the first time you ever saw it?"
When Roz didn't answer, she looked over at her inquisitively. When the child still didn't speak, Strat frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked, slightly impatient.
"What's it?" Roz blurted out.
In a few minutes, Strat had found out that the twelve year old Roz had had her period for a year, still didn't know what it was all about, suspected a few things, but worse, had made some pretty strange conclusions.
Strat was silent and thoughtful for a moment and then said suddenly, more to herself than Roz, "What the hell. You saw it. You might as well know about it and know it's fun too."
For the next half hour, Strat talked softly and enthusiastically about men and women. Roz was at points shocked and at other points thrilled. The crotch of her pajamas was still uncomfortable, but she was so engrossed in Strat's discussion, she barely felt it.
Strat ended her lecture with a smile. "It's about time you knew not to mention being told that it is fun and good, instead of something awful."
The lock turned in the key and Roz dashed into her room, silently shutting the bedroom door. She crept into bed and listened to her parents.
Strat left and they went right to their bedroom, the room next to Roz's. She could tell by her father's voice that he had been drinking. Her mother never drank and didn't allow booze in the house. But when they went to a party, she always came home furious at him, screaming about his drinking too much and making an ass out of himself.
Roz often heard these arguments, but she never thought he acted like an ass, he was just a little drunk and didn't seem to bother anybody, but her mother.
Her father told her mother to talk softer, she would wake Roz up and her mother lowered her voice. They were still talking, but Roz couldn't make out what they were saying.
Under the covers, her pajamas felt uncomfortably hot and without thinking about what her mother might say if she discovered her naked in the morning, she wriggled out of them under the covers. Freed from the binding cloth, her young little pussy, the new hair still sparse, felt cool and open and she was excited by the new tingling itch between her legs, a feeling she couldn't ever remember having before, but was certain that it was the same feeling Strat had talked about that night.
In her dark bedroom, she heard her mother raise her voice angrily, saying, "No! I don't want to, that's why!"
The springs in their double bed shifted and creaked several times and she heard her father give a muffled groan. Then suddenly the bedsprings squeaked rapidly and regularly like a child jumping up and down.
With a start, the twelve year old realized that her mother and father were fucking. It was perfectly reasonable and plausible to imagine beautiful young Strat fucking with a handsome boy and enjoying it. But her parents? She was stunned. Her father with his middle-aged paunch and her mother with her flabby spare tire midriff, no make up and short, graying hair? Impossible.
Unconsciously, her hand slid down and cupped the soft triangle of hair. The flesh beneath the thin curling hair, throbbed instantly and a delightful warmth spread through her crotch, penetrating her thin, bony inner thighs and crept up through her stomach, up over the newly developing breasts.
Listening intently to the bouncing bed, unable to imagine the participants locked together the way Strat and Bobby had been on the living room floor, her soft hand explored the forbidden garden. Somewhere in the back of her innocent mind, away from the concentrated thoughts on her parents, she was aware that the feeling of her hand on her crotch was marvelous.
She moved her other hand down and together, almost involuntarily, they examined the secret hidden spot. Within seconds, she realized that some spots felt better than others. The tiny narrow bulge that swelled sometimes when she had to pee bad twitched and expanded under her probing fingers.
She felt neither scared of being caught nor guilty about her investigating hand. When she had listened to Strat's first summary explanation, she had felt cheated about her mother's lack of explanation. In fact, she thought to herself, she really in a way lied to me.
But her initial anger at her mother had been quickly forgotten, as the incredible, overwhelming details filled her naive mind and preyed on her secret fantasies.
The new and exciting feeling that her moving hand provided, erased from her mind any concern of her mother's reaction should she catch her. She wondered vaguely why her mother hadn't told her and it occurred to her, because she couldn't imagine her parents fucking, that it was entirely possible that her mother didn't enjoy it. And had honestly ignored it as a bad, but necessary thing that a woman must do.
The bed springs were quiet and soon she heard her father's faint snore through the wall. He always snored when he'd been drinking.
Now her exploring hand moved in earnest, probing and pressing, alternately tickling, the unexplored cracks and crevices. Strat was right. The feel was almost indescribable. And to inexperienced Roz, it was an almost inconceivable thrill.
She spread her legs wide apart beneath the sheet, bending her knees slightly to raise the cover up off her pussy. Her mind drifted to one of Strat's graphic illustrations about the time when she had had two young boys at once. It seemed like it was out of the movies or some other unreal thing.
She didn't think about Bobby, the boy she knew. She didn't know why, but she guessed because it had happened so fast and she hadn't known then what was going on. Besides Bobby's embarrassment embarrassed her.
She thought of the good looking boy who sat next to her in math class. From the first day of school, he had been her current secret crush. She wondered what he'd do if she took off all her clothes in the school gym when it was empty and she knew he'd be there alone. What he would do when he walked in and saw her.
Her probing finger decided on her clit. It circled lightly around the sensitive mound, pressing and rubbing the tickling bud of flesh, pressing in deeper and rapidly massaging it round and round. Her body felt scorchingly hot yet not unpleasantly so.
Her mind drifted back to Strat's two boys. She couldn't quite imagine actually taking a boy's sex into her mouth. She didn't think she would like to. For a second, she thought there might be something wrong with her. But the excitement in her twat generated by her rapidly moving finger, immediately wiped out the nagging thought.
Now it was Roz who drove naked down the country road, two young boys sat beside her. She stopped the car quickly and they got out on the grass. The boys stripped. Their big cocks stood straight out and in no time at all, Roz was sitting on one and the other had penetrated her asshole.
Lost in her fantasy, her finger sped round and round her wet pulsating clit. Her breath was fast and heavy as though she had run two blocks, and her body wriggled on the bed from side to side in response to the stabs of delicious shock that radiated from her crotch.
She was moving faster and faster up and down on the boy below her. He squeezed and pinched her big tits. Her free hand moved up to her tiny, still forming breasts and moved back and forth over the hard little nipples, squeezing, pinching and rubbing them.
The excitement in her crotch was burning her, begging for something and instinctively she realized it would not let her alone until it found what it was so urgently demanding inside her. She locked her three middle fingers together and rubbed them frantically over her turbulent pussy.
The boys were yelling and she was moaning softly, subconsciously aware of her parents in the next room, squirming about on the bed. There was a distant ache in her wrist from the strain of the force of her frantically pressing hand on her pussy.
A sudden surge of inexpressible passion swept over her convulsing body. Spasms of pure rapture poured through her, twitching every nerve and instantly vanishing as though exiting through the pores in her hot skin.
Her hand was still, resting on her soft wet cunt. The good alive feeling that descended over her as she grew calmer, her heart beating slower now, she could only compare to those rare moments when there was no school and she woke up before her parents did, sneaked out to the kitchen, made her own breakfast, and pretended she lived there all alone.
She suddenly realized that she was tired, dead tired. Her wildly leaping thoughts were quiet in tune with her lazy relaxed body.
She slipped back into her pajamas quickly. Still not feeling guilty, but why argue with her mother. Especially when she wanted to spend the whole day tomorrow just sorting out her new discovery and telling her best friend about the facts. Just the facts, she decided sleepily, knowing she should never discuss Strat nor her own beautiful new experience. In seconds she was in a deep sleep.
Stretched out on the king-size bed, Roz yawned lazily. That night had certainly changed her life profoundly, she thought with a smile. "Old mother and big sister Strat is the best person I ever met," she said aloud, "and probably the best I'll ever meet."
Whoops, she thought suddenly, I'd better get a move on. Strat'll have a fit if she doesn't have that goddamned wig. She jumped out of bed.
CHAPTER THREE
Strat walked out of the steamy bathroom, a large towel wrapped around her damp body, and sat down at the dressing table. The silver coiffured wig sat on the styrofoam head and Strat studied it, considering her choice of makeup for the evening.
Roz sat on the bed, watching her roommate's preparations for the night out. "Where are you going?" Roz asked.
"I don't know. Charlie. Probably nowhere with him, but maybe I'll go out later," Strat answered, studying her face in the mirror. "What are you doing?"
"Don't know. No plans," she said feeling a little bored and a little envious of Strat. She was so beautiful, she thought.
"Make me a drink, will you, sugar?" Strat said, catching the note of boredom in Roz's voice.
"Sure," Roz said and left the bedroom to go make drinks for both of them.
Strat began to apply her makeup base, rummaging through her mind for a suggestion for Roz of something to do. Something different. And something she would enjoy.
What did I do at her age when I was bored, she thought. Just going out and picking up a guy could be risky. If he was lousy in the sack, you felt even lousier afterwards. The only time to do that was when you were in a good mood to start with.
Suddenly she smiled. Lester. He'd be perfect and he was a sure thing. He was always available when Strat had gone after him and she was sure he'd make himself available for Roz.
Roz came back into the bedroom with the two drinks and set Strat's down before her on the dressing table. Impulsively, she bent over and kissed the back of Strat's smooth, long neck. She sat down on the bed and watched Strat continue to make up.
Strat sipped her drink and went on with her makeup. "I've got a suggestion, if you haven't any plans."
"What?" Roz asked eagerly.
"Go see my old friend, Lester. He was a first for me and he's good. It's about time you had one," she said.
"A first?" Roz looked puzzled.
"A first in the sense that I never met anybody like him before. But for you, he'd be a first. You see, he doesn't fuck."
"Oh," Roz said, her voice less interested.
Strat grinned. "I'm not kidding. He's something else. I met him quite a few years ago."
Roz settled back on the bed, interested again in the story, wanting to hear the details of the mysterious Lester who didn't fuck.
Strat looked in the mirror, noted Roz's attention, and began to talk again.
"I was uptown. An old girlfriend of mine, one of the top hookers in town, had gone straight. She had gotten married and had a kid. She called and called, asking me over for dinner. Her husband had a buddy that I just had to meet. You know the type.
"One night, she caught me when I had nothing to do and I finally said okay, that I'd come over that night. I figured I might as well. This chick used to really swing and I thought there just might be some action at the house that night, so I went up there.
"I don't know when I last had such a bad evening. I couldn't wait to get out of there. The husband's buddy was a winner. I really didn't even think he knew what it was for and she was talking babies and all this crap. I was bored out of my mind.
"They didn't even have anything to drink, other than two drinks before dinner. Frankly, I told them that I had to go and the drip wanted to take me home. But I gave her a sign that I had a job and she covered up. I got out of there as fast as I could." Strat laughed remembering the relief that had spread over her when she got out to the sidewalk.
Roz laughed too imagining Strat listening to an evening like that.
Strat continued. "Anyway, I was so disgusted and so bored I stood out on Broadway, trying to get a cab and get downtown to a decent bar for a drink so I could forget the scene. I was so uptight, I couldn't even get on the subway.
"Of course, I couldn't find a cab and I must have been out there fifteen minutes looking for one. Then I spotted a bar across the street and I figured if I got a drink or two quick, then maybe I'd either find me a cab or at least be able to brave the subway.
"I went into this bar and it was half empty. I sat on the first stool I saw right inside the door at the end of the bar. I had a stiff, double martini right off, straight up, and finished it pretty fast. By the time I had, I felt better already and I ordered another one.
"I was surprised the drinks were so good, because it was pretty much of a dive. Looking at the customers, down the end of the bar, I could tell they were pretty much regulars. A real neighborhood joint with no action. Those places are usually shot and beer joints."
Roz nodded. "I know what you mean," she said, thinking about the little place around the corner she sometimes went to. She never ordered anything but beer in there.
"So anyway," Strat went on, working steadily on her eyes, her mouth slightly open. "I realized there was a guy next to me. A black guy, real dark. He kept playing the jukebox and drinking Scotch on the rocks. He was real short, I guessed about five-three.
"We started talking after a while. Just friendly bar talk. I don't remember exactly about what, but I do remember that I kept on drinking those great martinis. I was getting pretty high, but I had been so uptight earlier, I didn't even notice how fast the drinks were hitting me or what time it was.
"And needless to say, what with the gin and all, I was getting more and more interested in the little guy. His name was Lester and he and the bartender were pretty friendly. Pretty soon, he was paying for my drinks.
"Strangely enough, I had never had a black guy before."
Roz nodded. Neither had she.
Strat laughed. "And I was thinking too about that old story about how much bigger they're supposed to be. Don't ask me why I never had one. There was no particular reason, it just never happened. You know, I never met one that really interested me and at that time, I only wanted to make it with guys who really interest me. Of course," she added reflectively, "that's still true in a way. Whether you're paid or not. There's got to be some interest."
Roz nodded and Strat continued her story.
"Anyway, I started hinting that we might get together. He knew what I was saying, but he didn't answer. Didn't ask or follow up and the next thing I knew, the bartender's saying last call.
"Lester and I left to the place together and I'm still waiting for him to invite me to his room. He had told me he had a hotel room right around the corner.
"But he didn't say anything, so I said I wanted a cab. I didn't want to invite him to my place. I guess I just didn't have the nerve. He was nice enough, but I was still a little wary.
"Anyway, he said the best place to get a cab is on the island in the middle of Broadway. That way you can flag down one on either side of the street.
"We got across the street and stood on that little concrete patch at the end of the island where the benches were. It was four o'clock in the morning and no one was out there on the benches and there's very little traffic and of course, not a cab in sight.
"I was looking uptown and he was supposed to be looking downtown and I must have stood there at least ten minutes. I still didn't want to get on the subway. And by now I was too drunk to anyway.
"I turned to ask him if he were sure I'd be able to get one at this hour and he was standing up on the bench, his legs apart, his fly out, and big black cock sticking straight out. He was just staring at me. I almost died." Strat laughed, remembering her shock at the sight of Lester's cock.
Roz's eyes opened wide. "Out in the open! Right in the middle of Broadway?" Her voice was shocked.
"Right in the middle of Broadway. I was speechless. I looked at him and then down at his cock that was kind of half-hard, just hanging there, you know?
"Then I smiled and said, 'Can we go to your room?'
"'Why?' he asked. What's the matter with right here?'
"'Nothing really,' I said. I was fascinated with the idea, but the bench still seemed a little open to me. Exposed. And I suggested that we go on the grass.
"He said I'd have to kneel, if we went on the grass and I might just land in some dogshit and that would be a mess.
"I was still just standing there looking at his cock, and I really didn't know what to do.
"'Come on, baby,' he said, 'put it in your beautiful mouth. Put it all the way in there and give me a little loving."
"I went over to him in a sort of daze and stood in front of him. Standing on the bench, he was just the right height. His cock was level with my face.
"Still in a sort of trance, I put out my hand and rubbed it a little. I pushed the skin off the top and in the street light I could see it was pink. That kind of surprised me, because I thought it would be black like the rest of it.
"I kept rubbing it very slowly and it got harder and bigger. It was still soft, rubbery like, and just seeing the size so far and knowing it was going to get even bigger, fascinated me. I forgot all about where I was and put my other hand inside his pants, to explore his balls.
"They were enormous too and hard. Tight, the hair on the skin was coarse and taut.
"'Suck it, baby, put it in your mouth and suck on it. It's all yours.' His voice was almost a command.
"I felt myself tense a little. I was waiting for some kind of put down. You know, about being white. But he never said one.
"I took the shaft in my fist, pulling the skin downward and that funny pink cockhead just bulged out. I stepped closer, forgetting or at least, completely oblivious to the night air and to where I was, as I licked the tip. Slowly and kind of casually, moving my tongue around it, tracing the hard rim that ran around it and pushing against the little hole on the top.
"It expanded in my hand and was sticking straight out now. I could feel the veins popping against the tightening skin. I kept on licking just the head. I figured the shaft was about nine inches long by now and must have been at least two inches in diameter.
"He was hunching toward me, pushing it closer against my tongue. I kept moving back slightly from him, still tonguing, and undeniably amazed that such a little guy should have such a big joint. I was going to suck, but I was still wondering how much I could get inside my mouth.
"He was breathing heavier, and he grabbed the sides of my head. He had huge hands and he pulled my head closer, pressing his cock into my mouth. I was still slightly resisting. I had my teeth clenched and sucked just the head with my lips.
"He pressed the sides of my head harder and raised his voice and said, 'Put it in your mouth."
"I opened my mouth slightly and the moment I did, he released the pressure on my head. I took about an inch of his cock into my mouth, feeling it just fill my mouth, flattening my tongue, rubbing against my teeth and pressing on the roof.
"At first, I just sucked lightly on it. Then I got used to the size and I started moving around on it. I couldn't move it, because it was so big, but I could move on it.
"I flattened it with my tongue against the roof of my mouth and moved my tongue on the bursting veins, with an in and out movement.
"He kept on saying in a low whisper, 'That's right, baby. Oh yes, that is right. That is how to do it."
"I was getting carried away with my skills and his encouragement. I took it further and further into my mouth. I had my mouth as wide open as I could stretch it and I tipped my head from side to side, my tongue and my teeth scraping his cock.
"Then it was too far in. I almost choked. I pulled back quickly and pushed it up in the air, licking it up and down like a big ice-cream cone.
"He moved his hands from my head and held them on his hips. Every now and then he pushed towards me. I knew he wanted it back in my mouth, but I was so fascinated with the size that I just kept licking up and down on it. Then I got down to his balls and pulled down his shorts, yanking them out so they rested over the edge of the elastic waistband.
"I rubbed his cock with one hand against my face and moved my tongue around on his balls. I could feel the first few little drops squeezing out of the narrow slit on top.
"The gagging sensation had settled inside my stomach and he groaned slightly a few times above me. He was just about ready to shoot, I decided, and very slowly I moved my mouth sideways up to the tip, sucking at the hard veins that lined his huge joint, massaging them with my tongue.
"I sucked his prick into my mouth from the tip, pulling to elongate it so I could take it further and further in, keeping my mouth good and wet to keep from gagging again.
"As I sucked he pushed very gently and it was deep in my mouth. Then I released my sucking pressure to let him get even more inside me. I must have had at least three quarters of it in my mouth by this time. I remembered being amazed at the idea. I hadn't thought I could get half of it in.
"I had both hands on the back of his legs and his hands were pressing on the sides of my head. He was breathing heavily and pushing harder and harder against me. I squeezed his ass and pulled at it and he started groaning and banging against me.
"His whole cock seemed to burst apart in my mouth and he was groaning and twisting it around in my mouth. I could feel the hot come in my throat, but there was so much, I couldn't swallow it and it filled my mouth completely, some of it even running out of the corners of my mouth.
"I kept sucking at it and he kept pushing into me, squeezing my head in a vise. I kept swallowing rapidly and it seemed to keep pouring out of him. I never saw so much come come out of a cock before.
"It seemed like ages before it started to get a little soft still inside my mouth." Strat paused, adjusting the line of one starburst eyelash.
Roz was staring at her in complete fascination, her cunt already wet and itching. "Then what happened?" she asked eagerly.
Strat laughed. "Nothing, that's what happened. I stepped back and he zipped up his pants, smiled, and hopped down off the bench. Then almost like that, I mean like he had had it all arranged or something, there was a cab. He told me he was always in the bar after work, that he got off at 10:30 at night, and anytime I wanted to, to join him."
Roz was amazed. "Did you ever see him again?"
"Of course," Strat answered. "I saw him a lot. I wanted to fuck him, but nothing doing. But whenever I was bored and had nothing I wanted to do, I went up there to the bar. He was always there and he was always willing."
"Did you always do it on the island?" Roz asked curious.
"Oh, no. That was only in the warm weather. After a while, we went to his hotel room."
"Weren't you frustrated?" Roz asked. "Eventually, yes. That first night, I don't know what, I wasn't at all at the time. It was such a wild experience. I would have fucked him or let him suck me off or something, if he had volunteered, but when he didn't for some reason it didn't bother me at all. I did finally get him to reciprocate. As I said before, he never fucks and he won't say why, but he would give a blow job whenever he gets one."
Roz grinned. "I'm all turned on just thinking about it."
Strat smiled. "Like I said, why don't you go look him up? Tell him, I suggested you meet him. He'll understand. Tell him what you want to about your own experience. He's a pretty groovy guy. But remember, no money other than free drinks and he doesn't fuck. Like my pal Irving last night. What a drag. Whee!"
"What happened?" Roz asked quickly. Her pussy was tingling and overpoweringly excited. Her mouth felt thick and hot and she drained her glass in a sucking sound thinking about finally giving or learning how to really give one man a blow job.
"Make me another drink, sweetheart, and I'll tell you about old Irving. Something else that one."
Roz made the fresh drinks quickly and drank half hers in a quick gulp to wet the dry parched feeling of desire in her mouth.
Strat told her about Irving and his positions. She laughed at herself several times in the telling about how turned on she had been and what a letdown the whole thing turned out to be.
Roz's eyes gleamed, her cunt hotter and itching slightly. "I don't think I really understand that final position," she said slyly.
"Simple," Strat said nonchalantly as she stood up. "I'll slow you. It was nutsy."
She went over to the bed and took the pillows throwing them down on the floor at the foot of the wide bed. "Pretend the bed was the couch."
She sat quickly down on the floor pushing the pillows under her ass and rested her legs upon the bed, spreading them wide. Roz moved to the foot of the bed on her knees and looked down.
"He was standing between my legs with his joint in his hand, jerking it off looking down at my cunt. And I had my cunt open like this."
Roz moved still on her knees, between Strat's legs and watched as Strat moved her hands down to her inner thighs and separated the soft blonde cunt lips with her thumbs and stretched her fingers down to open her cunt hole wide. "See?" she said.
"I see," Roz said and moved down swiftly, hanging off the edge of the bed, closing her soft warm lips over the pink full mound of flesh rising out between Strat's thumbs.
Strat laughed. "That's what he could have done. But alas, that's what he didn't. Mmmm."
Roz didn't answer, but continued sucking softly on the full, rapidly expanding clit, moving her hands below her mouth, pushing Strat's fingers away and sliding two fingers in the hot, hairy hole.
Under her moving mouth, Strat squirmed, her breathing increased, "You ought to save it for Lester," she whispered, her voice thick with sexual desire. "But don't stop."
"Mmmm," Roz moaned raising one hand up above Strat's cunt and closed the soft, hairy cunt lips against the sides of her open mouth, pressing them closed between her thumb and forefinger, concentrating the heat of her mouth inside the tight lips.
Roz moved her tongue rapidly around the sensitive, twitching clit, circling it, and then pressing against it.
Strat moaned and squirmed, thrusting her cunt upward to the hot, hungry mouth, moving her firm thighs closer together till they pressed against Roz's head and her heels dug into her back.
Roz moved her hands beneath Strat's full, plump ass and raised her from the pillows to pull her sopping pussy closer against her ravenous mouth, the sweet, familiar spell drugging her consciousness as she devoured the furry mound.
Strat's body stiffened and she dug her heels into Roz's ass, her hips grinding and writhing wildly as her thighs tightened around Roz's head. "Ohhh," she cried out, her come bursting from her, spreading over her cunt and into Roz's eager, sucking mouth.
Her body went limp, her ass sinking downward in Roz's firm hands, and Roz lowered her gently to the pillows, licking the sweet juice that covered Strat's soaked pussy.
Roz moved her tongue up and down the soft pussy lips, inside the furry ridges, and down into the hot, still seeping cunt hole.
"Mmmm," Strat said softly. "I don't even have to wash. You're a regular mama pussycat."
Roz raised up and pulled herself back up on the bed. The blood rushed in her head from the angle and for a moment, a dizzy wave of blackness engulfed her. "Little repayment," she giggled, blinking her eyes fiercely to stem the dizziness.
Strat smiled. "After that old Charlie's going to have to put up a little effort into the evening besides cash."
She got up slowly, and stretched luxuriously, her body felt magnificent. Good, comfortable, and relaxed. No better way to ease tension. "And speaking of Charlie," she murmured, "I'd best get my ass in gear. In more ways than one for Charlie."
Roz smiled and went to make herself another drink. "I might just try old Lester out tonight," she said to Strat. "But I'm not sure I could brave the island."
Strat laughed. "Enough gin, and you can brave anything. But as far as old Lester's concerned, just tell him you're new at the game. He'll cooperate. If for no other reason, old time's sake."
CHAPTER FOUR
Outside the apartment, Strat found a cab quickly and gave the driver the bar address. She settled back in the seat and lit a cigarette, studying the driver's picture. It wasn't her last night's lover, she thought, and giggled aloud.
Her thoughts turned to Charlie. Good old Charlie. Efficient as hell. He left the hotel room number and key in an envelope for her at a nearby bar. She liked the arrangement, because it spared her dealing with some snotty-assed kid at the desk.
The bartender who kept the key was always the same guy, Nick. He never said a word, like all good bartenders, she thought. She and Nick had their own arrangement. Before she left the apartment, she telephoned him saying that she was on her way.
When she got to the bar, he had a good stiff, double martini chilled and waiting. Charlie was always so worked up when she arrived, she didn't have a chance to get a glow beforehand. And she liked that initial glow. Charlie had drinks ready in the hotel room, but that was for between rounds.
Strat wasn't all that fond of Charlie's action, but he was dependable and a regular. And she liked him for himself. Once she had borrowed money from him in an emergency. The next date she had with him, she had brought the money with her. He had looked at her in utter astonishment and refused to take it. Old Charlie had a lot of class.
At the bar, Strat walked in and paused to adjust her eyes to the darkness and headed for an empty stool. Nick was grinning and set the cold martini before her. "Hi," she said, smiling back at him.
"All set," he said, and discreetly slipped the envelope under the napkin beside her evening bag.
Strat nodded and winked. Nick moved down the bar to serve another customer and Strat studied his lean, supple figure. He was good looking. Latinish almost, with deep, clear olive skin. She took a long sip on the martini and smiled to herself.
Someday, Nicky baby, you and I are just going to have to make the scene. On the house.
She slipped the envelope into her bag and finished her drink. When she and Charlie had made their regular arrangement about the key, she had told him she had to have at least one drink, because it embarrassed her to walk into a bar, take an envelope, and just walk out.
Since then, efficient Charlie paid and tipped for her in advance. But Strat always left an additional buck on the bar. That was between her and Nick.
Strat left the bar, nodding goodbye to Nick, and went quickly into the hotel. It was crowded in the lobby and she walked swiftly to the elevator, her head erect and her eyes straight ahead. She was conscious of the admiring looks around her, but didn't show it.
She was confident too that no one knew she was a hooker.
She unlocked the hotel room door and stepped inside. The double martini was warm and pleasant inside her. She laughed in delight at the sight that confronted her.
Charlie, as usual, was stark naked, standing in the middle of the room. But he always had a completely panicked look on his face as though he was sure despite all his careful planning, the person who opened the door would be a cop or the house dick. And yet, despite his expression and anxiety, he was always naked.
"Hi," he said grinning sheepishly.
"Someday, baby, I'm going to hire somebody to impersonate the house dick just to see what you would do," Strat greeted him, laughing.
"I'd probably have a heart attack," he said, moving over and swiftly unzipping the back of her dress.
"What's the rush?" Strat asked, smiling teasingly at him, but letting him slip her dress down over her arms.
"No rush, I just hate to see you all covered up like that," he answered, his eyes glowing as he pulled her dress down over her hips.
Strat stepped gracefully out of her dress and bent over to pick up the dress. She could almost feel the heat of his eyes burning into her ass, naked between the straps of her garter belt. She stood upright and tossed the dress to a straight back chair.
She stepped away from Charlie, moving her hips suggestively, and stood with her back to him. "Unfasten me, will you?" she asked in a deep, sexy voice.
Slowly, he unhooked the straps of her black lace bra and slid his hands down to her hips, gently squeezing and pinching the soft, full flesh of her delicious buttocks.
Strat slipped out of the bra and tossed it on top of the chair. She unsnapped her stockings from the garter belt and bending over slightly at the waist, she carefully rolled them down. In the graceful, erotic strip, she clenched her buttocks tightly together, teasing him.
With a faint gasp, he plunged forward. His hot hands gripped each ass cheek tighter and tugged at the crack to separate them. She laughed in response and supporting herself on his arm, she stepped out of her stockings.
Charlie snapped the elastic band of her garter belt against her back in retribution.
"Ouch, you rat!" she protested and stepped quickly away from him, unsnapping the belt and tossing it along with the stockings onto the rest of her clothing.
"Now, let me have a drink," she said, smiling seductively. She relaxed her ass muscles and walked over to the service cart, swaying her firm white hips rhythmically. Strat poured herself a drink and took a quick swallow, then turned to Charlie. "Want one?"
Charlie licked his lips. His eyes were hot and his pale middle aged face was flushed. A throbbing vein stood out clearly running straight across his high forehead and disappeared into the thin graying fringe of hair around his temples. "Later," he said, breathing heavily, his voice thick and slurred. "I missed you."
Strat smiled adoringly at him. "I missed you too."
"You'll never know how much I'd like to take you home with me. Never guess," he said softly, a faint note of despair in his voice.
Strat laughed lightly. "Let's not talk nonsense. If we ever tried anything of the sort, the first thing that would happen is we'd probably stop making the scene. You ought to know that."
He nodded, frowning at her words. "Yes. That's what usually happens," he said.
Strat walked over to her handbag and extracted a cigarette. Any potential wife talk bored and irritated her.
"Oh, sorry," Charlie said. "I forgot." He went over to the closet and opened his briefcase. He had a carton of cigarettes for her, always the right brand. Strat sighed. What a guy. Was there a detail he forgot? Never. Quickly, she poured another drink and turned.
Charlie was already bent over the low modern dresser, his head resting in his arms, his legs apart.
Strat carried her martini in one hand and dropped the bed pillows on top of one another behind him. She knelt on the pillows and set the full drink on the floor beside her.
She moved her hands up to his thick shoulder blades and massaged her way down his hairy back to his waist, gently squeezing his thick skin in large handfuls. She moved her hands down over the full, soft flesh of his ass, kneading and prickling the skin. He moaned in anticipation and pleasure.
Strat pinched the white, hairless flesh between her thumbs and forefingers in quick darting movements, lightly enough not to hurt. The coarse black curling hairs that ran down the inside of the crack of his ass glistened in the soft bedroom light, coated with sweat and desire.
"Let's try something different," she whispered softly.
He didn't answer and she raised her drink between his legs, sloshing his full hairy balls into it. "Oooh," he groaned. "It's cold." But he didn't move.
Strat laughed. "I'm inventing a replacement for the olive. Let's see how it is."
She sat down on her ass, thrusting her bent knees between his spread legs. She licked his gin soaked balls slowly, smacking her lips teasingly. "Delicious," she murmured. "Absolutely delicious."
Her tongue probed his sensitive balls, moving around them, pressing up between the two hard eggs, pushing them against the thin, hard ridge of flesh that seemed to divide them.
Her skillful tongue pressed harder and she thrust it out further to touch the base of his rapidly hardening prick. Slowly, she moved it around each oval, tonguing the cracks of his hot thighs.
She could feel the muscles in his thighs tense as she gripped the backs and pushed herself further in below him to close her hot, wet mouth over a hard lump that moved about easily inside the loose, hairy skin. Tenderly, she sucked in first one and then the other.
Above her, his head buried in his arms, Charlie groaned softly.
Strat continued to suck moving from one ball to the other. She slid her one arm around him to his cock, now hard and taut. His cock was strangely narrow, but long, and the feel of it in her clenched hand always surprised her. Gently, her hand moved up and down the network of veins beneath the small, full cockhead.
Still holding his prick in one hand, she slid the other hand around to cup his balls, bringing her mouth tantalizingly slowly up the tight crevice of his ass, blowing hot air into the moist burrow, close enough to feel the coarse, curling black hair tickle her lips.
As she moved teasingly up and down the crack, she could feel his body go rigid as his muffled groans of approval and excitement filled her ears. Her cunt grew damp in response, and she shifted her ass on the pillows slightly to separate the hot muscles between her legs.
Her mouth moved back down close to his balls and she tongued lightly up the hot crack and back down, wetting her mouth constantly. She gave a last light squeeze to the hard shaft in one hand and swiftly moved both hands around to his buttocks.
She squeezed both fleshy cheeks in a tight grip close to the hungry crack and moved her tongue further into the hairy burrow, breathing through her mouth to let her hot breath on the wet hairs further increase his excitement.
Still tonguing up and down the crack, she flattened her palms against his buttocks, digging her fingers gently into the hot crack, pulling his cheeks wide apart at the curve to expose his hot, shiny pink hole, rimmed with sparse black hairs that thickened above and below the hole, shining with excitement.
Strat smiled, her clit throbbing and itching to join the party. She took a firm grip on the spread cheeks, pressing her mouth against the hole, she thrust her tongue deep inside.
Above her, Charlie raised his head slightly, crying out in ecstasy as her hot tongue penetrated and reached the mark. His body was stiff and unmoving, his hands now gripped the dresser edge tightly. Her tongue pushed in deeper and deeper into the hot, tight hole, parting the tender pink ridges of flesh that twisted and turned inside and opened to her competent tongue.
Her tongue had extended as far as she could push it and her lips pursed tightly around her tongue as she sucked and thrust her tongue in and out, squeezing his buttocks close to her face. She thrust faster and faster, her face damp from the radiating heat of his thick body, and pussy itched its plea for relief.
In a low groan, he spurted his hot come against the dresser, his body shaking in the powerful release and his chest heaved in heavy gasps. He grew calmer and slowly, she withdrew her tongue. She tipped her head back to stare at the stream of thick, white liquid running down the front of the dresser to the rug, wishing momentarily that it was running out of her hot snatch instead.
She patted his ass affectionately. "Good?" she murmured.
"Fantastic," he answered, his breath still short. "As always, fantastic."
She rolled out from under him. "I almost made it myself," she said grinning.
He grinned back happily, looking at her in the mirror. "You will," he promised and went to the service cart to pour fresh drinks.
He put her drink on the dresser and returned to the arm chair, flopping down on it, and throwing one full, hairy leg over the arm. His limp prick, lolled between his legs, the still wet cockhead hung over the edge of the seat, glistening the soft light.
It was break time, drink time, and some small talk time. She leaned over the dresser, resting her arms on a bed pillow, and watched him in the mirror. His eyes were glued to her ass as he sipped his drink. She would stay in this position now except to occasionally shift her legs and hips to give him another angle.
They talked casually, his voice low and relaxed, hers husky, still waiting for her fulfillment. She told him about suggestion Roz go out and find Lester, briefly telling him about Lester, but omitted the outdoor scene knowing instinctively that it would bother him. That was simply too indiscreet for Charlie.
He was amused and curious about black men. Strat laughed at his questions and teased him, saying she would arrange a small orgy some time just for him and he could make his own observations.
He looked startled, but then relaxed as he realized that she wasn't serious. It always startled him to realize how hip she was and how well she knew his weaknesses. He poured them another drink, but this time he sat down holding both. "Come sit with me," he invited softly.
Slowly, her hips undulating, Strat crossed the room to Charlie and sat down on one side arm of the easy chair, stretching her legs over him and dangling them over the other side. She sipped her drink, her back erect, and said huskily, "My bird's twittering."
Charlie set his drink down on the table beside the chair and cupped both heavy breasts in his palms, lifting them upward. His hands were damp, but still hot enough to emit rays of heat into the sensitive skin and within seconds, Strat's pink, full nipples were erect and faintly puckered.
Strat watched, his eyes fastened on her full breasts and stiff nipples. She loved to watch foreplay. It always seemed twice as exciting to watch someone play with your body. The thrill of watching often made her even forget who was making love to her.
Slowly, Charlie leaned forward, extended his tongue, and trailed it lightly over one erect, crinkled nipple and Strat lowered her eyes to watch his moving tongue. Twinges of electricity tickled her breasts and her wet cunt oozed between her legs.
She opened her legs slightly freeing her pulsing pussy. Still holding her breasts in his feverish hands, his hot tongue prowled from one rigid nipple to the other. Strat's breath grew faster, her chest moved up and down rhythmically, her parched mouth slightly open, and her eyes burning down on the moving tongue.
Still holding his hands, beneath her breasts, he cupped his palms to embrace the heavy, creamy white globes. In his grip her tits elongated, straining out of the pink washers that surrounded them. His mouth closed over one breast and he sucked noisily on it, rotating his tongue rapidly around the throbbing nipple. He sucked the breast further into his mouth, his full lips spreading wider and wider covering the soft, milky skin.
Strat slid one arm around him and rested her drink on the back of the chair. Her other arm, bent at the elbow to watch the busy mouth, rested on his shoulder. Her soft fingers lingered on his ear, tracing the curves and tickling the soft furry hair that -rimmed the hole.
Charlie moved to her other breast and the air felt cold against the steaming, glistening exposed breast. His mouth closed rapidly in on the other breast, sucking harder, as his tongue darted quickly about her tingling, puckered tit.
He slid his free hand around her, stroking her lower back and she slid easily backward to expose the breech to his eagerly probing hand. The chair arm was saturated with the flowing juices from her voracious pussy and sent a shiver down her spine as her hot, dry thigh touched the wet fabric.
His touch was mild on the soft full flesh of her ass. His fingertips circled the flesh and groove between the cheeks in harmony with his circling tongue.
Strat's fiery passion seethed through her body from her toes to the fingertips that pressed in his ear and gripped her drink so tightly, communicating her need.
Still using the massaging gentle circling motion, his fingertips moved round her thigh and slid into her hot box. He bent his fingers, running them through her soft, blonde cunt hair, wetting them thoroughly in the love juice that had leaked from her searing cunthole.
Quickly, he moved his hand back around her, this time not touching the skin, saving the sticky liquid to lubricate her tight split. His wet fingers pressed into the narrow crack and wiped the juice up and down the desired passage.
His hand on her aching, begging cunt made her involuntarily contract her muscles to keep from crying out, "Don't stop!"
She looked from his mouth down to his turgid dick, the long, strangely narrow member that she longed to ram up her cunt, but knew she never would. She lowered her hand from his ear to his cock and fondled it gently, her fingers lightly probing the pliant ovals below the base of the stiff rod. She turned her gaze back to his sucking mouth.
His hand behind dug lightly into her tight split, his fingers seeking the hot, sensitive hole. His fingers were spread wide in the crack, as the middle finger found its mark. He pressed inward, gently but firmly, steadily increasing the pressure.
Strat felt a twinge of pain from the initial pressure of the finger that pushed into the sensitive, relatively unstretched cavity. Her body jerked slightly in reaction to the pressure and she took a quick, deep breath, forcing her tensed muscles to relax, knowing that without relaxation, the pain would be intolerable.
He clutched her breast in his mouth tighter, reassuringly, and his vacuum-like mouth went on sucking steadily as his finger pushed its way into its limited length.
Once the finger was buried inside, Strat felt no pain. The sensation was different to her. Unidentifiable. She had heard that it was possible to make it anally, but she herself had never achieved it. Having reached his mark, the tight hot hole was now well oiled from Strat's cunt juice and he moved his saturated finger back and forth inside the channel easily.
As Strat relaxed, the passion that had so swiftly subsided returned in a full force blast. Her cunt juice rippled and clawed inside her for release. They both panted in unison. The air in the hotel room seemed cloudy and scorching.
Strat released the taut cock and tugged his ear gently. He moved his head back quickly and nodded. His face was flushed and drops of sweat beaded his smooth forehead.
She swung her legs down quickly and in one rapid movement went down on her hands and knees on the thick rug. His finger slid smoothly out of her ass and he stood up behind her, staring down hungrily at his prized cavern.
Strat lowered her head close to the carpet, raising her bare rump high in the air. Carefully, she moved her bent knees further up under her, adjusting her height to Charlie.
He stepped closer to her ass, one foot on the floor on either side of her humped ass. He lowered his hot hands to her hips and pulled lightly on them. Neither spoke. Their heavy breathing was the only sound in the hot room.
Strat inched her ass higher until the sudden pressure of his fingers told her she was high enough.
His hands flattened on her soft buttocks, kneading and pinching the flesh as he spread the cheeks wide. His touch was gentle and unhurried despite the urgency in his breathing and the sweat that now covered his gleaming dome, running into the thin fringe of hair, dripping down on his hairy chest.
Small drops of liquid squeezed from the tiny split in his cockhead and he guided it swiftly into the well lubricated pink cavity. Once there, he slowed his pace and pressed gently into the resisting folds of sensitive skin, gently, but firmly.
As he pushed inward, Strat forced herself to relax under the beginning pressure, grateful for his controlled entry and at the same time, half wishing that he'd just plunge in, knowing that once he was inside, she could relax again.
As he pressed, the pink cockhead penetrated the folds and slowly but surely disappeared from sight. With one swift, forceful push his long narrow shaft followed the penetrating bullet. He relaxed his hands and the tight walls of Strat's muscular buttocks clamped round his member. He stood motionless, sweating profusely, his chest heaving with excitement, as he waited for Strat to adjust to his entry.
Her muscles rigid, Strat concentrated on the sensation of the strange pressure behind her while her blood pulsed through her body, simmering slowly. Her body relaxed and behind her Charlie adjusted himself, gently moving his cock inside her.
Strat raised herself to her hands, stretching her back out to keep the necessary height. Charlie bent over her, both hands grasped her hanging, swinging breasts and pulled them downward, elongating them, and the nipples jutted out from the tight clasp of his clenched fists.
Supporting herself with one hand, she began to creep slowly about the floor. She glided a little forward and Charlie stood still, his cock sliding partially out of the tight niche. Then she stopped and he stepped up to her gliding back in smoothly now, the lubricated barriers totally relaxed.
Strat kept her free hand between her legs, one finger probing and titillating her swollen clit. She moved her finger slowly, her passion seething throughout her. But she would come only when their playful crawl about the room was over, when Charlie could no longer hold back.
The movement was slow and delicious. Charlie squeezed and bounced her breasts up and down in his hands, sometimes flattening them up into her chest in his palms and then pulling them back downward. Elongated, he kept her tits in a vise-like grip and sharp spasms of electric excitement ran from her nipples to her drenched cunt.
His cock sliding evenly in and out of her tight ass was sensuous and exciting. The seething passion that churned through her consumed her and she was lost to time and place and who.
Above her Charlie moaned several times and now as they moved his thighs were tense, hot and tight against her feverish hips. In response, she increased the speed of her hand in her snatch, locking the three middle fingers together, she rotated them harder and faster up and down and around in the trenches that enclosed the mound of trembling, throbbing flesh that begged for contact.
Suddenly, he released her breasts and the palm of his hands pressed flat against her buttocks, the fingers dug deeper into her lower back, and his thighs clenched her hips.
She stopped short, lowering her head swiftly to the rug and moving her fingers rapidly in her cunt now on the itching, throbbing clit.
Behind her Charlie banged in and out of her grinding ass, strangled moans sputtered across her back, his digging fingers forming red blotches on the creamy white skin.
She erupted in spasms, pushing her forehead so hard against the floor, she thought fleetingly it might cave through. Her scalding blood banged into every inch of her skin and she screamed out in pleasure and grateful release.
Charlie's loud, wild growl above her drowned her out. He burst inside her, filling her tight hole with hot juice and it ran out and down the crack, mixing with her own flowing come.
They stayed in the same position for several minutes. Charlie didn't move his expended cock and Strat rested her head on the rug, waiting. She felt the thin rod weaken and then slowly slither its way out of her asshole. Her buttocks closed and Charlie stepped backward. She stretched out below him on the floor.
His breath was still heavy, but warm, and almost lovingly, he said, "Hot in here, isn't it?"
Strat didn't answer and he turned on the air conditioner. From the bathroom, he brought out a towel, wiping the sweat from his face, neck and chest. Strat rolled over on her back, smiling up at him.
"I could use a cigarette and a drink, but I don't think I'm strong enough to get them."
He nodded and tossed the towel to her. He poured a fresh drink for her and lit her cigarette. He knelt down on the floor and kissed her brow tenderly. "I hate to fuck and run," he murmured, his voice deep and sexy, sending a shiver through her body.
She smiled up at him. "I understand. Just don't forget to tip the help. I trust you approve the service."
"Do I!" Charlie whistled.
Strat lay on the floor, sipping her drink and smoking, watching Charlie dress. The air conditioner cooled the room quickly and she covered naked, now chilled body with the towel Charlie had discarded.
Charlie finished dressing, closed his briefcase, and discreetly slid two hundred dollar bills beneath the water glass on the dresser. He brought the ice bucket with the remaining martinis over to her and set it down on the floor beside her.
Strat, her eyes half closed, watched lazily, but said nothing.
He bent over her. "Thank you," he murmured.
She smiled. "Thank YOU," she answered softly.
"I'll call you as soon as I can."
"Make it soon," she said, stressing the soon.
"It can't be soon enough," he assured her and left the room quickly not looking back.
Strat lay on the floor relaxing and finished the jug of drinks.
What shall I do tonight? The thought wandered in the gin haze and the tired, relaxed satiation of her body. Tonight and every night, she thought. Why don't I just get up and get into the bed and sleep a while.
But the very thought of sleeping, her night's work done, invigorated her and the hazy, drifting thoughts solidified. A series of bars passed through her mind, but somehow none seemed just right.
McNaughton's! The thought flashed with neons before her eyes. Damn, I haven't seen Brian in ages and I haven't used a whip in ages either, she thought laughing with delight. Double money! I'll go beat the shit out of Brian McNaughton with his cat o'nine and then I'll fuck the shit out of him and wow!
Strat scrambled for her clothes. Brian McNaughton's bar and grille it is!
CHAPTER FIVE
It was pitch-black in the bedroom when Roz stirred on the warm big bed. She had fallen asleep without even realizing Strat had left. Her eyes blinked in the darkness.
She stretched and turned on the low bedside lamp. She reached for her cigarettes and the pack was empty. "Damn!" she muttered. "It would be."
She climbed out of bed feeling heavy and sleep-logged. Boredom, she thought. Does it every time. She had slept too long and her senses were dulled. She turned on the living room lights as she made her way to the kitchen for a fresh pack of cigarettes.
The cardboard carton in the cabinet drawer was empty and so was Strat's. "Goddamn!" she growled angrily. Hell of way to start the night, she thought. It's too late to get a delivery from the deli too. She went back to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed again. But the irritating gnaw, the craving for a cigarette, nibbled at her peace. She didn't want to go out and she couldn't stand not having one either.
The liquor store! The thought flashed into her mind. If I order a bottle and ask them to send along some smokes, they will. She lit a butt from the overflowing ashtray and dialed the liquor store.
She stretched out, naked, on the bed, waiting for the delivery, sucking greedily on the foul tasting, harsh cigarette butte. Her thoughts drifted lazily and she wondered if she could bring herself to go uptown and seek out the famous Lester. Did she have the nerve? He would sure be something different than the rest of the cocks she had around her now.
Guys were funny though. That's one thing, she had decided without Strat's advice. They came on with all this jazz about evading a woman's clutches, marriage and all that crap, and how all they wanted was a whole lot of poon with no strings attached. Yet give it to them, no strings and no demands, and they ran like hell, scared to death. Bunch of insecure bastards. She sighed. Everybody's looking for the catch.
There must be a guy somewhere out there, she thought, who just digs a scene and doesn't get himself all hung up.
Unconsciously, her hand had slid down her stomach and cupped the soft, thick mound of hair. Her ever-knowing finger probed into the soft, fleshy lips and gently massaged the tingling hill between the valleys.
Her legs spread out wide and the probing middle finger moved further down to the hot, damp hole below. She rotated her clit gently with her thumb and her finger entered the throbbing hole, moving lightly back and forth into her, the muscles deep inside sucked and tugged at the pushing finger.
What kind of a man would that be? she mused dreamily. Slowly, a picture of the man formed in her mind. Of course, he would be tall and dark and exciting. Sensually exciting.
The other hand moved over her small breasts, massaging the big brown nipples that twinged and hardened in response to the hand that traipsed lightly, undemandingly, over them.
He'd have to be different. That is, he'd have to do something different. Maybe an artist or something. Anyway, he'd have to be his own boss. And he loved to fuck. There was nothing he liked better than to fuck! Anytime! Any place! Any way! She giggled. Every way!
One day, they were out in the country on a picnic. With a whole other bunch of people, whose faces were not too clear in the picture. While they ate, sitting on a blanket, he stroked her bare leg and buried his large, chiseled hands in her hair.
She teased him, because they had spent the whole night before and the whole morning in bed, and here he was, still fondling her as if they hadn't fucked in a month.
They walked into the woods, away from the others, hand in hand, and came to a cold, clear stream. They stripped nude and swam, frolicking in the water, grabbing at one another, deliriously happy. They returned to the shore. And on the shore, she bent down to pick up her clothes.
He was right behind her and threw her to the ground, kissing her passionately, his mouth rough and urgent.
Her cunt was savage and insistent now, pulled at her hand for more and more. Her finger thrust deep inside to its limit, moving wildly about inside the hot walls. The thrusts harder and harder, yet still insufficient.
Her lover, his body still wet from the naked dip in the stream, was demanding and forceful. He had torn her legs apart and rammed his steel like cock deep into her. Now he banged furiously on top of her, faster and faster he rammed his lovestick.
She yanked her finger out and opened her hand to press the palm flat against the itching, throbbing hill. Her hand rubbed violently on her hot pussy, while she struggled with her urgent lover.
The doorbell buzzed angrily again and again and suddenly Roz realized unwillingly that the sound she heard was not the impassioned slapping of her lover's body against hers. It was the goddamned delivery body. But the now unwanted outside intrusion had plummeted her soaring, thrashing passions downward and her frenzied palm stopped shortly.
She jumped up from the bed and grabbed a silk robe, drawing it around her naked body and went to answer the door. She was furious with the boy, but resigned, knowing that that was stupid, that all she had to do was to go back to bed and summon her lover again. No doubt, with very little effort, she could bring herself back to the same point within minutes.
She opened the door without even asking who it was.
The boy stood there with a large brown bag in his arm. His eyes swiftly roved down her silk clad body, clearly registering that she wore nothing underneath it.
She felt his eyes roaming and studied him. He was young, but there was something in his look that told her he had been around and knew what was happening. He sent a strange stab of recognition through her mind and the picture of young Strat on her parents' couch with the supermarket delivery boy Jimmy hit her.
She opened the door wide and gestured for him to enter.
Wordlessly, he followed her inside.
She walked before him into the living room, swinging her slim hips suggestively. She felt his eyes burning into her backside and she chuckled, she didn't know why, it was just an uncontrollable urge to laugh.
"Got your cigarettes, too," he said, his young voice low, but warm. A hint of hope in it?
"Thank you," she answered casually and went to the table to pick up her purse. She pulled out her wallet and opened it. "Damn," she said, turning to him, "hope you've got change for a twenty."
In the movement, the top of her silk, belted robe opened slightly to form a larger vee and to expose the cleavage between her small, but full breasts, the nipples still half stiff from her earlier frantic ministrations in her lover's hands were now visible through the clinging fabric.
"Yes," he mumbled, his voice hoarse and thick, "I think so." His eyes were glued to her tits.
She stood still, the wallet clutched in her hand, almost paralyzed by his stare. A weird feeling swept over her. Why was she standing like that?
He walked toward her silently. In front of her, he reached out a hand, shoved it inside the robe, parting the vee to her waist and took one small breast in his soft warm mitt.
Roz was speechless, but she did not resist. Her eyes stared down at his hand. He had lovely big hands with long, beautifully shaped fingers that stretched over her small breast, cupping the nipple in the broad palm.
She looked up from the hand to his young, un-lined face. He seemed unaware of her gaze. He stared down at her breasts and his hand.
Slowly, his other hand reached out and stretched over her other breast and squeezed them both gently. The heat from his palms against her nipples burned into her still feverish, unsatisfied skin. His touch was gently and almost involuntarily, she pressed her breasts into his hands.
He released one breast and slipped his hand inside the gown, stroking her skin, sliding his palm underneath her breast. He cupped the small ball and raised it. Slowly, he lowered his head, raising her breasts out of her robe and closing it into his mouth.
His lips pursed over her large, brown nipple and his teeth scraped it gently. He released her nipple and moved his head back slightly and gazed down at the brown hard knob, his eyes glowing in a mixture of awe and desire.
"They're beautiful," he murmured. "If only they were full of milk. I could drain them."
Then suddenly he raised his passionate eyes to hers, "Come, nurse me." His voice was half a command and half a plea.
He threw himself down on the floor and raised a hand up to her. Vaguely, almost surprised at herself, and almost trance-like, she knelt over him.
He closed both broad hands on the sides of one breast and took it into his mouth. His mouth opened wide and he pushed and sucked it further and further in, sucking and pulling it into his wide stretched mouth, his eyes closed and an expression of rapture on his young face.
Looking down at her tits, they seemed even smaller, elongated, hanging over him, like sausages, she thought. On a butcher's wall. Sausages. But the image vanished as adoration sank into her dazzled mind.
One hand clenched round the breast in his mouth and he squeezed the other hand, burying the now hard nipple in his palm. The pressure of his squeezing hand seemed to say, "Don't worry, you're next. Just wait your turn."
Roz stared down in fascination at her breast in his noisily, wet, sucking mouth. It seemed totally unreal and then it was real. The throb between her legs and the tell-tale moisture forming on her thighs told her it was real. It could be nothing else.
Gently he lifted the breast out of his mouth, sucking in a prolonged final pull. He opened his eyes and looked up at her, "It's dry. I told you I would drain them. Give me the other."
Roz moved slightly, swinging her unsucked, flaming breast down to his eager mouth. Slowly, he pulled and stuffed it in as far as he could inside his mouth.
Low, deep moans of passion came from his throat as he sucked steadily and in response, her pulsing cunt muscles contracted with each pull on her breast. She was mesmerized, her eyes fastened on his young handsome face. But the fiery passion inside her was not so still. It pulsed and beat on her senses.
He lifted the breast from the vacuum and looked up at her in adoration, "You have beautiful tits!" his voice was low and dreamy. "If I lived with you, I couldn't stop sucking them."
Roz was still on her hands and knees looking down at him, but she was more than aware of her steaming pussy that throbbed between her spread legs, the mist spreading down her inner thighs, the lightweight silk robe now felt like a fur coat.
Abruptly, he slid out from under her and before she could roll over, he pressed her back firmly and said, "Wait!"
He rose to his knees in back of her, raising her gown to her waist. She heard his pants snap and the zipper grate downward.
And then his hard, young cock pressed between her legs and he slid one hand beneath her stomach to guide it into her. As he entered, she lowered her weight to her elbows, raising her ass higher.
He pressed his hands on her back and humped her. His thick shaft slipped out and she frantically jammed his prick back into her. Her clawing, unfulfilled need driving her to a wild bucking pace.
She was exploding, but once again he had inadvertently halted the action. Now, she hung on tightly to the base with her hand, not letting him out far enough to lose him. Her hips ground and banged wildly into him, but now he was keeping the pace.
He cupped his hands underneath her, around her breasts, and pulled hard on them, yanking them with a fierce grip.
"Hey!" she cried out in pain as he pulled harder.
But he didn't stop. Instead, he banged into her harder and harder, faster and faster his ramming shaft hit her scalding insides. And she forgot about her breasts. There was no pain. It was sheer ecstasy that flooded through her.
She was up and over the fence, writhing and churning in the flood of relief. Vaguely, she felt him pour into her, his young cock exploding and he groaned his pleasure.
Roz collapsed to her stomach on the floor and he lay on top of her, and then rolled to the floor beside her. Gently, he tugged at her shoulder till she rolled to her side, her back to him, and he tenderly fondled her breasts.
Calm again, she whispered softly to him, "Don't you have some more deliveries to make?"
"Mmmm," he answered. He sat up and flattened her to the floor. He kissed each nipple lightly, brushing his warm lips over her flesh, tapping the tip probingly with his tongue. Then he stood up and pulled on his tight jeans.
Roz stood up and tightened her robe around her relieved body. Feeling stupid, she handed the twenty to him. He counted out her change quickly. She didn't know whether to tip him or not, but he turned and exited so rapidly, she didn't have a chance to anyway.
She was still standing in the middle of the room when he reached the foyer. He turned and said softly, "Thank you." And then he vanished.
She pinched both forearms, her arms folded tightly over her tingling, slightly sore breasts, and said aloud, "Did I dream that? Am I going crazy? Christ, I'd better have a drink!"
CHAPTER SIX
In the morning, Strat awoke to Roz's hilarious laughter. She sat up, abruptly, staring puzzled at Roz, who squatted on the bedroom floor, clutching her sides and tears streaming down her face.
"What's the matter?" Strat asked.
Gasping for breath, Roz managed at last to get out, "Nothing. I'm cracking up. My fantasy life caught up to me."
At last, Roz brought in coffee and Strat, still weary, announced, "If I get a call today, I'm going back to work."
As if in telepathy, the telephone rang.
"Old Charlie again," Strat sighed, replacing the receiver. "Tonight. Man, he never gets enough! I'm going to sleep the rest of the day. Otherwise I'll never make it."
"Okay," Roz agreed, "Me too."
By evening, Strat felt rested and ready. Roz slept on as she dressed. Leaving, she kissed the younger girl affectionately on the forehead. "Later, gator," she whispered.
Outside the apartment, she hailed a cab and headed for the "key-drop" bar and her waiting martini.
Sliding onto an empty stool, Nick greeted her warmly. More than usual, she noted with interest. He poured the chilled drink quickly and she lit a cigarette, watching him. He waved a hand motioning her to wait.
He busied himself behind the bar, filling a tray with drinks for the waitress who had stood behind him waiting, and she moved off swiftly.
Nick smiled. "Bad news, baby. He just telephoned and asked me to tell you that something came up, an emergency, and he had to leave. But he said you should go up to the room anyway, he left an envelope in the top drawer of the dresser for you." He slid the envelope with the key and room number under the cocktail napkin beside Strat's drink.
Strat smiled, her eyes sparkling and suggestive. "Bad news?" she shrugged. "That's not so bad. Especially since there's an envelope anyway. And I just saw him last night."
"Well," Nick grinned, "I just figured since you got all dressed up and all, it might be bad news."
Her voice low and husky, she eyed him up and down appreciatively, and said, "I'm a resourceful girl. I don't intend to waste the effort." And then added calculatingly, "I often party just for fun."
He understood. His lean, dark handsome face nodded. "Me too. In fact, I'll be off in another hour. If you feel like hanging around till then, we can party together."
"I thought you'd never ask!"
"Good," he said, and suggested another bar for her to wait in.
Strat slid the envelope in her purse and left the bar heading for their meeting spot.
As usual, her entrance was aloof and seemingly disinterested. But in fact she had registered the entire scene within seconds and she was pleased. If he didn't show, there was potential.
Two drinks later, Nick arrived, and Strat was startled. He was out of uniform and well dressed. She had realized he wouldn't be wearing the short red uniform jacket, but still it was shock to see him without it.
"You look different," she said gaily, her eyes dancing.
He responded easily, slipping onto the empty stool beside her, "Got my party clothes on."
Their conversation was light and warm, yet intimate. Neither mentioned their usual association. They talked not to learn anything about each other, but as though they were old friends.
Strat liked his affectionate, promising touch. His hand frequently brushed her arm, her back, and lingered on her buttocks and slid round to her thighs. She wore nothing under her clingy silk sheath, except the thin strapped, lace garter belt for her stockings that Charlie wanted. And the warmth from his exploring, but inoffensive touch heated the soft skin and the familiar fever between her legs began. She kept her thighs tightly closed, feeling the moisture forming, blotting it into her skin.
He leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, "You need some party clothes, too, baby. Let's eat now. I'll buy you a present on the way."
Strat smiled her assent. She never refused a present.
They left the bar, Nick holding her arm firmly and without speaking, directed their course. Strat followed his lead comfortably.
He stopped before a small, brightly lit costume shop. The display window was filled with manikins in silver g-strings, red and black lace garter belts, pants, and matching bras, and other sequined garments.
Nick walked in, holding her hand and Strat followed. The sales lady greeted him, he was clearly a regular customer. She gave Strat a professional glance and handed Nick a small box. He opened it, nodded approvingly, and handed Strat a black lace pair of panties. "Put them on," he said, gesturing to a small, curtain-covered cubicle at the rear of the shop.
Strat giggled, "Why darling, I thought you'd noticed. I don't really need them."
He answered smoothly, but his eyes were insistent, "These are special, something I like."
Strat shrugged. "For you anything."
Behind the curtain she stepped out of her shoes and slid one foot into the pantie leg. She muffled a giggle as she realized the crotch of the panties was open. The lace band went round her hips and connected to the elastic that went round her thighs. But the crotch was completely open.
She didn't like panties, found them too restricting. But when she took a step in the new ones and felt a breeze brushingly touch her warm pussy, she liked it. They were fun, she decided. The whole evening was probably going to be fun.
She came out smiling at Nick. He had been in urgent conversation with the saleslady, but stopped talking as she approached. He handed the girl quite a few bills, Strat noticed, but didn't comment. There was certainly too much money changing hands for a pair of lace panties, but it was none of her business.
They had dinner at a small, quiet restaurant and then hit several new bars that Strat had never been to before. By now, both were warm with liquor and Nick's hot hands seemed to be in continual contact with her feverish skin.
At a small, dark, secluded bar, sitting at the curved end, his hands moved more freely now sliding under her dress, his long slim fingers probing gently between the open panties. Under his able probe, her snatch was soon sopping wet, the soft fur clotted with oozing juices and her nerve ends tingled, sparks flying from deep inside to prickle her feverish skin. Her face flushed and her eyes hot, she said softly, "I feel terribly guilty every time I think of that lovely hotel room. Why millions of hookers are starving in Times Square."
He laughed, "Wow! Is there a mother who never said that? I always finished my plate when I heard that line. Let's go."
By the time they reached the hotel room, Nick's constant touch had Strat breathing heavily and blazing desire rampaged through her, begging to be loosed.
Strat handed Nick the key and as he unlocked the door, her hand went down to his crotch. A strange feeling of embarrassment and discomfort engulfed her. He didn't have a hard-on. She fondled the soft lump, searching desperately for a response, some stir in his soft member to reassure her.
Nick didn't seem to notice and swung the door open. Strat walked in, stopping in the small foyer and turned to him anxiously. "Is something wrong?"
He looked at her in surprise. "Wrong?" He closed the door swiftly behind him and took her into his arms. His hot Latin mouth closed over hers, the lips pressing into hers passionately, his tongue penetrated her closed mouth with a swift lunge and he hugged her close to him, his body melting into hers, one leg wound round hers, and in relief her response was total.
Their mouths opened and then locked tight, their tongues exploring the blazing ovens. His hands gripped her buttocks and she clutched his neck with one desperate hand, the other moved wildly over his back and buttocks.
Slowly, their mouths pulled apart, but their bodies remained in a tight clench. His eyes burned into hers. "Wrong?" he repeated.
The strange feeling had cooled her slightly and the limp mound of flesh pressing against her hot pussy no longer had her worried. She pulled away from him and walked into the bedroom. Charlie's bucket of drinks waited and she went straight to it.
Swiftly, she poured two drinks and said easily, "Aside from a drink, baby, what's your pleasure?"
He didn't answer and she added, "I'm sure we can agree. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine. The order's unimportant. We've got lots of time." She turned holding out a drink to him.
He was smiling confidently. "Mine's simple. I like party clothes." He gestured toward the dresser. A brown paper covered dress box was on it. "I took the liberty of noting the room number earlier."
Strat grinned in appreciation. He was an operator too. "I like a guy who thinks," she said.
Strat opened the box and studied the costume inside with interest and amusement. There were extra long black sheer stockings that had a raised pattern on them in the same design as the crotchless panties she had on. There were two matching bra cups that were -rimmed inside the cup with a fuzzy elastic material that clung to the skin. The bra was lined with black silk, but the tips of the cups were open to allow the nipple to jut out. A black lace hood, in the same pattern, with an Eastern-style mask that covered her face from the nose down completed the outfit.
"Halloween!" she said, laughing.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Everybody's got their thing."
"If this is going to do something for your thing, baby, I won't waste any time." Strat grabbed up the box and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
She stripped swiftly and donned the outfit. Looking at herself in the mirror, she found herself curiously and unexpectedly stimulated by the outfit. She pinched the soft pink buds that pushed out of the bra cups until they were hard and red. She adjusted the diamond-shaped crotch, tucking her long fine hair out of sight, baring her glistening swollen clit.
In the bedroom, Nick tuned the radio into a rock program and sat on the armchair, sipping his drink.
Strat entered the room in a snake-like walk and before him she did a belly dance, gracefully gliding over the rug. His eyes were riveted to her lace gloved body. The record ended and he applauded loudly.
Another song began and she continued her dance. He stood and walked round her like a buyer in a slave market. He stroked the lace covered flesh and pinched and kneaded the bare meat. Her pussy twitched violently and the hot love juice seeped through the lace hole soaking her gyrating thighs.
The soft lump in the crotch of his pants was alive. It stirred and expanded and strained against the tight fitting pants. Strat continued her sensuous dance, her eyes fastened on the new life in his crotch.
A slow ballad filled the room now and she moved backward, crouching in time to the music, her feet flat on the floor, her knees bent, she arched her body backward, supporting herself on her hands, she swayed her body rhythmically. Her hard red nipples jutted up, bulging from their lace rim, and she tightened her buttocks to thrust her wet, swollen clit out further.
He walked round her several times, his breath heavier, and slowly undressed tossing his clothes to the bed. He dropped his slacks and the front of his bright-colored boxer shorts stood straight out, a miniature teepee.
She raised her head, smiling eagerly at the small tent, her aroused passion rampaging through her. She flung herself flat on the floor as he pulled down his shorts and wriggled to the music like a long black eel.
His hard cock was long and slim. The olive skin that covered the shaft pulled taut and the thin, bluish veins twitched in anticipation. His balls hung low and pliant, the black curly hair, thick and inviting. His heart-shaped head was a deep fiery red color.
Strat opened her mouth wide, wet her lips, and beckoned to him with her tongue. Nick stepped over her and crouched low. With one finger he guided the tip of his hard prick to her extended tongue and she ran the tip of her tongue round it, teasingly. He brushed the tip cockhead across her lips, probed each nostril, and moved it circling over her face.
His other hand tugged and elongated one hard nipple and electric like shocks tingled through her chest. She opened her mouth wider, pursing her cheeks in a sucking shape and pulled her tongue back in.
Slowly he guided his dick back to her mouth and she sucked the head in slowly and noisily, her teeth lightly scraping the hard dividing rind, her tongue probing the small slit.
He moved over her, squatting lower, pinching her tit. The hard nipple pressed against the hot groove in his ass. He squeezed the covered tit hard and the nipple pushed out further into his asshole. She squirmed in pleasure and sucked more of his long slender rod, deeper into her mouth, tonguing fiercely.
The guiding finger was no longer necessary and his free hand moved down to her trembling pussy. She spread her legs wide, raising her knees to arch her clit to his exploring finger.
Expertly his fingers formed a vee and explored the wet trenches playing with the sensitive tiny mound of flesh. His moved in further, the hot long fingers tracing the curves and paths into the pit of glowing coals.
Her hips wriggled and squirmed on the rug to direct the moving fingers and her mouth sucked wildly on his prick. His breath increased with her pace and abruptly, he yanked his quivering wet cock from the passionate vacuum.
He stood up, turned his back to her, and grabbed both her ankles, raising her legs in the air, bending them straight back over her chest.
The sudden movement pulled and she said, "Hey, I'm not double jointed."
He didn't answer but swiftly thrust a leg over her bent thighs. He let go of her legs and they banged up against his back. He grabbed the pillows from the bed and pushed them under her back, raising her curved hump higher in the air.
His hot hands pulled at the crotchless panties, his fingers prodding the opening of her cunt hole. Slowly he lowered his long prick toward the yawning hole, and guided the tip in.
Her heels pressed hard into his back and the pushing head of his prick relaxed the tense muscles she raised toward him. Tantalizingly slow, his long shaft slid in, until he was on his knees, his hands out flat on the floor. His prick was motionless as he adjusted his body to a comfortable position.
Strat's cunt muscles contracted and squeezed the hard hose and he moaned in pleasure. His balls were visible, pushing out under his buttocks and she tickled and teased the pliant nuts inside their yielding sacs.
In position, he slid in and out of her tight box, his ass arching high in the partial withdrawal and then lowering as the stiff pole slid back in.
The fever in her blood pounded, and she tried desperately to stem the rising tide to savor the position and the new experience.
He supported himself with one hand on the rug and the other hand wet from the juice of her throbbing pussy probed her hot open asshole. She wet her fingers in her mouth and with one hand still working his bails, the other hand slid easily into his exposed ass, puncturing the tight sensitive skin.
As her fingers moved in his response was electric. His long hard cock moved faster in and out of her, one finger buried deep in her ass and the others pinching into the tight groove.
She squirmed and writhed, hunching toward him, her concentration gone, her body churning wildly for release. The explosion that swept through her was an avalanche. A rumbling roar filled her ears and her rigid muscles contracted as her fingernails dug wildly into his smooth muscular back.
The rumble was Nick who banged wildly into her and then his full weight sank down on her as his hot come poured deep into her.
For several seconds they were rigid and then he rolled over onto the floor. They lay silent a long while.
Strat moved first. She poured fresh drinks and he opened his eyes lazily looking at his watch. "I have to go," he said, his voice deep and throaty.
She shrugged, "That's life."
"How about giving me a call, the next time you're free?" he asked.
She grinned, "Why not. But I'm not too often free."
They exchanged telephone numbers and Nick told her to keep the outfit and wear it on their next date.
She agreed and kissed him lightly as he left.
She showered, drank, and dressed. At the door, she stopped. "Whoops!" she said aloud. "Nearly forgot." She returned and took the white envelope from the dresser. She opened it and smiled as she saw the two one hundred dollars inside.
"Pretty good night, all in all," she said happily and left the hotel.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Early in the morning, the middle of the night, Strat thought, the phone rang. It rang and rang.
Roz, dreaming of alarm clocks, didn't stir. Muttering, you lousy mother fucker, Strat groped for the phone in the gray light, leaned on Roz, and yanked the receiver from the hook. She snarled, "Yeah."
Roz came to and looked up at Strat. Within seconds, Strat listening intently, came alive and when she hung up, she purred goodbye.
"Whoopee!" she shouted, shaking Roz's shoulder. "Vegas. I'm going to Vegas. Gotta be ready in an hour. Be a good kid and help me pack."
"What's going on?" Roz asked, eagerly.
"A nice little weekend in Vegas with my old Comrade Ivan! I wondered why I hadn't heard from him. He's been in Europe for the past year and claims I'm the first person he called when he arrived back."
Strat's voice, full of excited enthusiasm, was contagious and Roz was wide awake now, eager to help. She ran for coffee, demanding on the way to know all about Ivan.
"He's something else," Strat said happily. "Something else that man...." Her voice dreamy, relaxed now, knowing Roz would have her in order in time to meet Ivan.
"I met him a couple of years ago, through a chick I knew who was splitting town-splitting the whole scene.
"He's got a real strange, sexy accent and his voice has a beautiful rich tone. He's supposed to be some kind of aristocrat. I think he's what they call a 'White Russian.' His family was exiled in Europe, but they got out with the jewels and the whole bunch is loaded to the gills.
"He's about forty-five and he never married. He claims it's not because of his sex thing either. It's a little odd, but once you get used to it, it's really kind of nice.
"Anyway, his family had one of those arranged marriages set up with another exiled family, but both kids, they were raised in Europe you know, couldn't groove with it. I don't know what happened to the girl, but Ivan decided just not to get married at all rather than hurt the family. Least, that's what he says."
Roz, straining to hear, returned to the bedroom with the coffee and quietly set about packing a suitcase with essentials, as she listened to Strat. She knew from past experience they would decide at the last minute what dresses were going.
"That voice of his gives me the shivers just thinking about it." Strat hugged her folded arms to her chest tightly.
"What's his strange sex thing?" Roz demanded impatiently.
Strat giggled. "There's a scientific term for it, but I can't ever remember it. I swear he tells it to me every time I see him and I completely forget it when we part."
"What is it!" Roz exclaimed exasperatedly.
"He has to talk before he gets a hard-on, talk constantly. And I have to talk too. Otherwise, he's limp as a dead fish."
"What's so strange about talking?" Roz asked curiously.
"Well, as I told you before, this chick I knew sort of turned him over to me. It turned out later, he didn't like the idea of kind of being transferred, but she figured it would be a useful favor all around. She told him, look just meet her, go out with her, and see what happens.
"He agreed on the condition that she didn't give me any information about him. She promised not to and she didn't. She told him she had chosen me, because I was pretty quick to pick things up and that I was also pretty verbal when I wanted to be."
Roz interrupted, checking out the contents so far packed, and Strat airily dismissed the list. "You know what I need. Since you've been packing for me. I'm never without a thing I need. Myself, forget it."
Roz left the suitcase open awaiting the dress decision, poured another cup of coffee, and settled down to hear about Ivan. Strat's eyes were contented and dreamy as she continued the story.
"His girlfriend set the date up. She told me that he had an accent, was fairly good-looking, charming as hell, loaded and worth a minimum of three bills for a night, if he wanted to. If it worked out, he'd become a regular and then, in addition to the regular money, there'd be all kinds of gifts and groovy occasional trips.
"Of course, I flipped. I couldn't wait to meet him. She set up a dinner date and told me above all to play it by ear and to keep cool and not ask questions. That if I didn't catch on, I could just forget it.
"I was curious as hell and in a way, I was really furious at her, though I didn't tell her, that she wouldn't tell me more. She knew it and said, 'Look I'm sorry, but all I can say is this guy is sharp as hell. If I told you and the chances are you never did the scene before, you'd probably overdo it, and he'd know. And I know him well enough to know that even if he really dug you, he wouldn't have any part of you because it was staged. And that would be the last I ever heard from him too."
"I took her word and by the time the day arrived, I was a wreck. I spent the whole day, getting my hair done, figuring I'd better not chance a wig in case his scene was the 'natural' bit and tried on everything I owned looking for the perfect dress that could fit every scene." She giggled. "Just like the office chick buying a dress she can wear anywhere, from work to a cocktail party. I was something else that day.
"I was so early arriving at the restaurant that I walked around the block twice. I didn't want to be too late and at the same time not early or exact.
"He was waiting at the bar and I just flipped when I saw him. He was really good looking. That strange kind of good looks, craggyish and masculine as hell. Of course, I got an immediate relief just looking at him. You know, that whatever his scene, it couldn't be too far out.
"He was everything my friend said he was. He charmed the hell out of me. We had a couple of drinks at the bar and I was completely relaxed talking to him and cool. I realized right away that he was a talker and I let him bring up and handle the topics. I also realized that he seemed to enjoy talking to me.
"We went to our table and it started. I followed the maitre d' and in back of me, his voice real low, he said, 'I can't take my eyes off your magnificent hillocks. A perfect match. Twins. And that soft, velvet smooth, fabric gives just the right hint of promises. I have all I can do to keep from touching those luscious globes, to pinch them and squeeze them, to be sure they are real."
"Of course, I thought I was in. And that he was an ass scene. But then through dinner he continued. 'My appetite for food is gone. I want only to taste that smooth flesh, to lick and savor those soft mounds that rise proud and inviting above your dress. I cannot see them, but I know already the flavor of those tempting delicious tidbits that I will sip and nibble.' His voice was on stage and the speech unbelievable.
"'I will taste the honey between your legs that will coat my hard cock. My cock will be another hand, to explore you deep inside, where I can not see, but my touch will be my eyes. My mouth and my hands will taste you. Know everything there is to know about you."
"At first, I was startled and then I was caught up in the low rhythm of his voice, in the promised intimacy. My nipples were already hard and tingling and my pussy was warm and wet. His voice was a warm tongue tickling, sensitive, knowing, searching and probing my flesh, knowing exactly those areas that responded to him.
"'And when I know everything, your thick, warm honey will mix with your love juices."
"My eyes were fastened to his face. His eyes seemed to enter mine as though he were trying to climb inside my skin. They roamed over my face, my shoulders, my hands, and my breasts, following his tongue, until even his eyes seemed to be stroking my skin. Yet he sat across the table and not even our knees touched. I was so stimulated that I had forgotten my earlier anxieties and even that he was actually a customer.
"But when we reached brandy and coffee, although he kept talking his talk was less and less erotic. His voice had the same sexy tone, but he was definitely moving away from sex. And I didn't want him to stop.
"Now he was talking about the difference between brandy and cognac and Napoleon's decree. Instinctively, I began to talk. My voice was husky with desire even to my own ears. 'Can you tell the difference?'
"And when he nodded, I said, 'If I were to pour first a brandy over my juicy pussy and you were to lick it dry and then did the same with the cognac, do you think you could tell me which was which?'
"His eyes glowed in response. 'But first I would have to taste the honey, to know the flavor before I mixed it."
"I kept it up with, 'And when you nibbled and sucked my breasts and that taste mingled with the taste of my honey box how would you possibly know for certain?'
"'I will show you!' He snapped his fingers for the check and the next thing I knew we were in his luxurious penthouse apartment and my pussy was craving that hard pole that had pressed against me in the small crowded elevator.
"He poured more brandy swiftly and I lit a cigarette. I held my glass in one hand and my cigarette in the other. He stood before me, the tips of his fingers just grazing my feverish skin, he stroked my flesh in a downward motion from my neck over my tingling breasts, his fingers stopping at the edge of my low cut dress, and he talked all the while in a low whisper.
"'The very touch of your skin has my tongue begging, my buds itch for your buds.' His hands slipped into my dress and gently raised my breasts from lower cups till the nipples peeped over the top of my dress.
"'Ahhh,' he sighed, 'delicious pinks sweets.' He tongued the rigid nipples lightly and stabs shot through me.
"But I was hip. 'Will you suck them? Suck them till I quiver and shake?' I whispered in his ear, my tongue brushing and tracing the hard outer rims and thrusting the hot, wet tip into the soft hair that lined the small hole.
"Close to me, I could feel his hard cock brushing against my thighs. He pulled back, away from me. His eyes were glowing coals. He pivoted on his heel and walked rapidly away from me. 'Come,' he said softly.
"I followed him into the bedroom. The headboard of the huge bed had soft colored lights, the only light in the room. He undressed rapidly and stood there motionless facing me. I-needed no urging. I stripped rapidly and fell naked, hungrily into his arms.
"By now I was pretty sure I knew what the action was-that he would do anything I wanted him to do, so long as I asked him and kept talking while he did it. And I fell right into it.
"'Suck my tits, take them in that hot hungry mouth and eat them. Suck them dry. Milk me dry.' We fell onto the bed and he sucked my breasts.
"I stroked his hair and head and begged him aloud to do more. That wonderful mouth. It's so exciting! Nibble. Taste. Suck."
"I squirmed on the bed, my legs spread wide, my cunt steaming, every inch of me on fire. 'My stomach. Feel my smooth stomach!'
"He needed no prodding. His sucking hot mouth circled my stomach, licking and touching my skin till I thought he had somehow gotten inside.
"The honey box. The hive is full and ready!'
"His mouth came down into my wet pussy and explored every inch of my cunt, probing the creases from my thighs, the triangular shape of my bush, down to my hole. The pressure of his tongue felt as though he were making a clay imprint of my box.
"I was ecstatic, urging him on in whispers and moans. 'Oh, yes, right there. Right there.' And his tongue stayed longer in each spot I approved and then moved on.
"'Yes, lick my pussy. Taste my pussy. Lick the honey away. But find the Queen Bee's house. It's there."
"His tongue moved closer and closer to my clit.
"Oh, yes. You're knocking on the door and I'm running to answer your knock. Come in! Come in!'
"His tongue moved wildly around my clit until I was ready to explode.
"'There's more. There's more for you to find. Find it soon,' I panted, my hips and thighs were jerking uncontrollably under his hot mouth, his hands were moving all over me constantly.
"His mouth still moving, he moved up on his hands and knees between my legs. I could feel his cock, hard as steel now, rubbing against my leg.
"His hands slid under my buttocks, squeezing and kneading the flesh, parting my cheeks, his hot fingers digging into the crack.
"I screamed. I couldn't hold it another second. I just blew up all over the place. When my senses came back I was sure I must have fractured his skull, my legs gripped his head so tightly. I was so spent, I couldn't even talk, just gasp for breath.
"But he talked. 'Delicious. I could drink for ever. I have never tasted anything so good before."
"He lapped my cunt smacking his lips, digging his tongue into every nook and hollow, and licking the fur like a mother cat.
"Then he was at my clit again, still hunched over me, his hands on my back. 'How could such a little hive hold so much honey?'
"He raised my butt right up off the bed, and his long tongue moved down and went deep into my ravenous hole. His lips sucked harder and harder, his tongue inside moved round and round the sides of my canal. The vacuum of his mouth sucked on a long straw that would drain every drop of juice inside me.
"But the harder he sucked, the faster new juices appeared and flowed down the straw. Now I was talking.
"'Ohhh, that's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. But you'll leave me dry.' My inner thighs were twitching and my hips thrust my cunt further up to him.
"'Your tongue is not long enough. Use your hand. Your extra hand!' I cried out, my body aflame, my voice urgent and thick.
"Slowly, he withdrew his tongue and raised his head. His hands still clenched my buttocks, raising me off the bed and he raised himself upright on his knees, his hard, massive cock stood straight out over my cunt.
"I wiggled on the bed sideways to reach it, first to stroke and explore. 'It's lovely. So hard and so big. I want your cock deep inside me. I want it to touch my belly button."
"I guided the bulging cockhead to my hole and he pressed lightly and I thrust forward. The tip went in.
"'It fits! It's so beautiful! I wish I had something I could put inside you. Give me more."
"His hands were locked firmly on my buttocks holding me up, and he raised his forearms under my widespread thighs, until my feet no longer touched the bed.
"I pushed and shimmied down the bed, thrusting my cunt up to his cock as high as I could. Tantalizingly slow, his cock entered me, filling my cunt, sliding deeper and deeper in. We were both moaning, crying our ecstasy of the feel alone.
"My spread legs shot up on his chest and my feet locked round his head, as I tried to take him in even further. I could feel his balls against my ass, but I couldn't stop arching toward him, my muscles sucking his cock, squeezing all sides of the taut, thick skin.
"He gripped my hands pressing them to the bed and banged in and out of me faster and faster and harder and harder till I thought he would somehow disappear right inside me.
"We came so long and so hard, I thought we'd never stop.
"And that was the beginning of a lovely relationship. I'm not just thinking about him."
Roz grinned. "Wow, I can see what you mean."
"Imagine," Strat cooed, "Imagine getting anything you want done to you and getting paid besides? Incredible!"
"No use talking about it. You're going to get it pretty soon. You'd better get a move on it. You've only got fifteen more minutes."
"Eek!" Strat squealed. "To horse."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Strat was off to Las Vegas and a feeling of loneliness and boredom consumed Roz. There simply wasn't anything she felt like doing, home or out. She wandered about the apartment aimlessly, sipping a fresh drink.
It was true there was nothing she wouldn't do for Strat and yet she couldn't help the tiny gnawing pangs of envy and a little anger that preyed on her mind as she thought about Strat out having a great time. She knew it was unreasonable and even almost hated herself for her thoughts, yet she couldn't drive them away.
She made another drink and sat in the living room. She wondered vaguely what had brought on her recent vivid recollections of her childhood and Strat's influence on her.
Suddenly, she grinned, remembering that first concrete, reality-based sexual fantasy. Even then, from the very first, she chided herself, you couldn't accept the idea of a blow job. So you just glossed over it. And here you are today, with all your sack time and you still haven't given a guy a blow job.
"Lester, baby!" she shouted out gaily, waving her drink in the air. "Teach me tonight!"
In no time at all she was dressed and ready to go. But once ready she was nervous. And furious at herself for being so silly.
"You're like a school girl on her first date," she giggled aloud. She looked at the clock. Hell, she thought, there's plenty of time. He won't even be off work yet. And besides there's always the possibility he won't be there.
She had several more drinks that relaxed her nerves somewhat, but now she paced around the apartment instead of drifting. She swallowed the last drink in a gulp and commanded herself to leave.
Outside the cool night air hit her drink-fogged head hard. Her first few steps were uneven and she decided to walk to clear up her mind. Again chiding herself, knowing she was only walking to postpone the scene, yet unable to explain or analyze her own hesitation.
She walked a long time, felt clear-headed again and was now determined. She hailed a cab and stopped it a block from the bar. The bar looked exactly as Strat had described it.
She walked inside and instantly recognized Lester sitting at the end of the bar. He fit Strat's verbal portrait of him so perfectly, she felt as though she knew him already.
Roz walked coolly down the bar and sat on the stool beside him. He had noticed her, but didn't acknowledge her in any way. For a second she thought hopefully that perhaps he had married and given up sucking off strangers.
She decided quickly on a martini. A gin and tonic wouldn't drive away her panicky inhibitions fast enough. She drank half her first drink at once and as the delicious warm gin coated her ribs and spread into the pit of her stomach she spoke, "You're Lester, aren't you?"
He smiled pleasantly and nodded his head yes in response. The lens in his eyeglasses were strong and in the angle of the soft bar light she couldn't make out any eye reaction or surveyal.
She drank quickly, ordered another, and introduced herself to him. He was friendly and she immediately liked his deep and sexy voice. They talked for a while casually, and Roz drank a number of martinis. He told her to tell Strat he'd love to see her again. He thought about her every now and then. With that statement he paused and looked searchingly straight at Roz.
The martinis had done their job and there was no one close to them to listen. The bartender was up at the other end talking with someone else.
She plunged in and told him that Strat had deliberately sent her up to meet him, and that he would know why. She waited nervously for his reply, not sure she could be specific.
He roared with laughter, throwing his head back and slapping a big black hand hard on the bar. When he controlled himself he said, seemingly pleased, "That's my Strat. Never forgets a good thing." Then eyeing Roz steadily, he added, softly, "Don't worry, baby. Anything for a friend."
Roz was relieved, the silly anxieties vanished. Bravely she went ahead talking, briefly explaining her own inexperience. But before she could finish her explanation he patted her hand that was on the bar and told her she didn't have to explain anything to him. Just let him know when she was ready to go.
They had a few more drinks and he picked up the tab. Biting her lips nervously, hoping he wouldn't go to the Broadway Island, she suggested they go. She knew she was reaching the point of no return now or never.
They left the bar, she walking stiffly upright, her eyes averted fearing a knowing leer on the bartender's face. Outside they walked along casually, side by side. He told her his hotel was only a block away.
She was over the second hurdle. They were going to his room and she felt a new surge of confidence.
Lester lived in a large low-priced hotel that had both weekly and daily rates. The entrance was modern, but the lobby shabby. His room was incredibly tiny. She was sure her bedroom walk-in closet was the same size. There was a single narrow bed, chest of drawers, and one straight chair inside.
She stood inside the door and Lester gestured to the chair. He opened the small window and brought back two beers from a chest that rested on the ledge. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and brought out a bottle of scotch.
Roz's excitement and anticipation spread through her stimulating her muscles and concentrated deep inside her cunt and hovered teasingly tickling her clit.
She declined the scotch offer telling him she'd better not mix, but sipped gratefully on the cold frothy can of beer. He was studying her intently. She knew he knew she was nervous and she realized suddenly that she really liked him. And that everything was going to be great.
Slowly, he extended his head and lightly rubbed the back of her tight skirt, his fingers brushing beneath the slim curve of her buttocks. She wore nothing underneath.
"Want that little man in the boat flipped?" he murmured.
She looked puzzled. "Man in the boat?" she asked curiously.
He grinned. "Your button. Man in the boat is an old War term. Came from Germany."
She nodded, understanding now what he referred to.
"Stand up on the table," he said abruptly, but his voice was warm and friendly. He pointed to the small table beside the bed.
Awkwardly, she stepped onto the bed and then to the table, planting her feet at each end. He stood upright, his arms folded over his chest, watching her. "Go on," he said softly.
She wet her lips nervously and slowly raised her tight miniskirt upward to her waist, exposing her slender attractive thighs and the dark bush between her legs.
He said nothing and walked toward her. He stood in front of her a little too short. The thick telephone books on the floor raised him to the right height. His mouth's full, fleshy dark lips were level with her already rapidly pulsating cunt.
She was barefoot but fully clothed. In a way she felt silly, but her anticipation was so great, she stood firmly planted waiting and watching, her eyes riveted to his rich, dark face.
Suddenly his thick tongue, bright red, shimmering in the light, darted out and stabbed at her pulsing pussy. The tip connected with only a faint brush against her hot, soaked box, but it sent shivers of excitement up and down her spine.
And then in short, quick movements his thick long tongue flickered out fang-like back and forth and up and down her eager pussy. Trance-like she stared down at his able, knowing tongue. She trembled slightly, the scalding passion rising in response.
She fought down the desire to grab his head tightly and force his tongue into submission. Force it to stop teasing her and do its job. She inched her spread feet to the very edges of the table, arching her back to thrust her bush further toward his steaming, hungry mouth.
Slowly he raised his huge black hands, sliding them up her dry, tingling thighs and extended the fingers to part open the thick black thatch of hair and tipped his head back to look at the ravenous mound of swollen pulsating flesh that seemed to protrude even further seeking on its own unison with the expert tongue.
Roz was breathing hard, her lips moist from licking them with her wet, deep red own tongue, her eyes hot and heavy. Her earlier preoccupation with a blow job had disappeared, washed away by the tight knots inside her that pleaded desperately to be undone.
His rotating tantalizing tongue drove her wild. Her muscles went rigid throughout her body and she clenched her fists tightly to control the impulse to bury his head between her legs.
He pursed his lips around her clit and sucked hard and noisily on it, his fingers still holding the hairy lips apart, sucking her clit in, elongating it, locking it in a powerful sucking vacuum and she moaned, her hips jerking, her hands clawing at the wall behind her seeking some kind of support.
She banged her shoulders back against the wall, her cunt jerked forward banging against his fiery mouth, her thighs trembling. He released her cunt lips and buried his mouth into her thick bush, covering her entire box, his teeth nibbling at her clit and his lips opening wider and wider till his full thick lower lip was against her hot cunthole.
Her oozing love juice mixed with his splashing saliva saturating the thick triangle of hair. Now his whole mouth was a constant, powerful vacuum that was going to eat until her seething cunt completely disappeared. His teeth nipped sharply at her swollen clit, the able tongue moving swiftly and constantly inside the tooth clamp.
She surged higher and higher, her blood pounding, and the blowup inside her ripped through her so violently she hurled her body back into the wall. Her come rained out of her and her rigid twitching muscles slackened.
He released the sucking pressure of the vacuum and moving his head a little away, licked up and down and around her wet pussy. He had eaten and now he licked the plate clean.
When he had finished, she stepped off the table and sank down onto the narrow bed. He stepped back, smiling surely, aware of his success; there was no need to comment.
He handed her a lit cigarette and her beer. She took several fast draughts on the can, the cold liquid relieving her parched mouth. Her breathing was normal again.
He stood silently before her, watching her. When she raised her eyes to his, with a sudden quick movement, he undid his pants in one motion. They slipped loosely down around his hips and he yanked the elastic band of his white jockey shorts out, releasing his half-hard prick, but even only half-hard it was clearly enormous. He snapped the electric band down securing it beneath his huge black balls.
Roz stared, fascinated, at his cock. Once again Strat had been accurate. It was truly amazing how she could tell such fantastic stories without exaggerating anything about the people. All of the men that Roz had screwed were circumcised. The wrinkled thick foreskin that covered his cockhead looked odd and unreal to her.
He stood silently as she studied his cock. His legs were apart and he rested his hands on his hips. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look up.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, between his, and moved her ass over to the edge. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she took the rubbery shaft in one hand, down close to the base. Still staring at this strange and different prick, she took the foreskin between two fingers and gingerly slid it back.
The unfamiliar prick jerked in her hand and the peculiar grayish-pink, heart-shaped cockhead popped out, shining in contrast with the dark brown stem.
Slowly she rubbed the loose skin beneath the tip in a short up and down motion, her fingers tightening searching for the popping veins beneath the protective coarse skin. In her hands his cock expanded a little more, but still had that slightly rubbery feeling.
Standing rigidly before her, he watched her. She was no longer conscious of his eyes. Her mind was on his curious cock.
"Suck it!" he said, his voice a distinct command.
Roz wet her lips with her tongue and lowered her head and lightly kissed the gleaming cockhead. Her dampened lips were closed and she brushed them lightly over the tender surface.
"Put it in, baby. Put it inside that sweet hot mouth."
She looked up at him and his face was expressionless. The reflection of light on his lenses kept her from seeing his eyes.
Wordlessly, she lowered her head back down to his cock, her long black hair falling down on either side of it, making the bulging light-colored head seem even lighter in the shadow of her hair. She pressed the top of her head against his stomach blocking his view.
A tiny drop of colorless liquid squeezed out of the small slit that divided the bulging crescents of the head and impulsively she licked it up, swallowing and tasting. It was good, she decided. Not at all like Strat. It had a strong pungent flavor, a distinctly salty taste. Maybe even a little gamy. Gamey the way lamb is next to most other meat, she thought. But it was good.
Her approval resounded in her pussy. She felt an instant twinge of excitement. And she smiled. Her own private thermometer. She took the head into her mouth, closing her lips around the tough, furrowed ridge of foreskin held back by her fingers. Her tongue explored the surface, tracing the shape, her mind recording and learning the formation as though it were reading braille.
In the hand that closed around the lower shaft, she could feel it expanding, its growth seemed endless. It just seemed to grow bigger and bigger and as it stiffened in her closed hand she kept loosening her fingers.
He raised a hand to her head and tugged gently at her long hair, pulling her head back so that he could see. Roz reached over and pulled the telephone books in front of him and slid down on them. Her head was level with his cock. The sliding movement titillated her box that was heating up fast.
Her lips sucked on the head and her tongue and teeth moved around and about the surface. Strat was right. Except for the size, it was not different from sucking Strat's clit.
He lowered his hands to the sides of her head, pressing lightly against her ears. Slowly he moved his hips forward, pushing and pushing against her lips that were closed tight around the tip. He pressed in patiently and she sucked the big, round pole in further, a little at a time. Each inch he gained inside her hot mouth, he paused, and drew his cock back slightly before plunging in further.
She paused her movement and he softly urged her on. "Don't stop! Suck it!"
She sucked harder on the steel-like straw, her tongue rotating wildly around it. It filled her mouth bulging against her teeth and pressed deeper into her mouth. Her pussy was wet and thumping between her closed legs.
For a second, she wondered how she was possibly getting so much in and the distraction caused her to gag slightly. She yanked back, but he held her still, his hands pressing on her head, giving up only an inch or two of its length. "Easy," he whispered.
She relaxed and went back down on it. Below, under his legs her slightly bent knees trembled and her cunt was a constant throbbing drum beat. Her nipples itched inside her bra.
Her hands went round him and tugged the back of his pants down. Her hands fastened on the cheeks of his ass and kneaded and pulled wildly at them. His breath was going faster now and he was moaning faintly, "That's right. That's right. That's how to do it. Suck it all out."
She sucked harder and harder, cramming his huge, black cock into her hot wet mouth. In her hands she felt his whole body go rigid and he groaned, the hot white lava jetted into her mouth, spraying her throat and oozing between the tight contact of his prick and the inside of her mouth.
She swallowed rapidly until most of the hot river was gone and then released the shaft of his rod up to the prick where she sucked the last of the juice out. She let go and swallowed this time to taste and remember exactly this new tangy taste.
He zipped up his pants and they sat silently on the bed, side by side, smoking and drinking fresh cans of beer. Roz felt pleased and smug. She had done it. And not only had she done it, but she liked it. Another milestone.
She looked over at Lester with a pleased, satisfied smile. He'd said nothing to her, but somehow she was sure she had done her job well. And she guessed too, from all that Strat had said about him, he wouldn't praise her in any way. The key would be her departure. Would he tell her to look him up again the way he had told Strat?
The question tormented her. But even worse was the question of how should she leave. Should she simply stand up and go or should she ask him if she should go or. Her mind went blank.
Lester solved the problem. He stood up suddenly and tossed his beercan into the sink basin. "Ugh! I hate that shit! Come on, honey. You get yourself together and you and me will make it uptown uptown and get us some real shit to drink."
Lester laughed, "Little girl, don't you worry about a thing. Now didn't old Strat tell you to come on up here and see old Lester? That old Lester was going to teach you a few things? Now didn't she say just that?" He scowled mockingly at her.
Roz looked up at him nervously, uncertain now. Strat had said nothing about anything except a fantastic blowjob. And they'd done that. What did he have up his sleeve now? She bit her lip nervously uncertain what she should say.
Lester grinned at her, "Baby, nobody gonna hurt you. Especially when you're with Lester. No, baby, I'm just gonna show you a little after-hours life, that's all."
"Oh," Roz said smiling weakly.
"Now you just go on and get yourself ready and we'll be off, okay?"
Roz grinned, "Okay!" She'd done better than Strat. He was taking her out! Who knows, she thought to herself, scrambling into her clothes, maybe I'll even get to fuck him!
CHAPTER NINE
Strat was due back today, but Roz had no idea what time to expect her. She decided to stay home and wait for her. She was bubbling with excitement to relate her latest adventures but knew too, that Strat would probably have more to tell her than she had to relate!
All morning long, the phone rang. It was almost as though Strat's clientele knew she was due back. A guy named Sam had called three times. He had sounded more urgent each time he had called, but refused to tell Roz any more than a telephone number for Strat to call. He sounded reluctant to even give the number.
Roz wondered who he was. She had never heard Strat mention the name Sam before. She was sure though, that he was an interesting one. Anyone who sounded that uptight about reaching Strat urgently had to be in some crazy need. She laughed at the thought.
Both Charlie and Irving had called. Both were terribly upset when they heard that Strat was out of town. Roz had patiently assured them both that Strat would be back that day, but she just didn't know at what time.
And a girl named Ruth had called, saying she was an old, long-time friend of Strat's and to please tell Strat that she was in town just for the night. She too was reluctant to say anything more, but the sound of her voice was a clear hint that she was looking for some action for the one night. If Strat had a chance, would she please call her hotel. And leave a message, if she wasn't in.
Wow, Roz thought. Today I earn my pay. Professional secretary!
The key turned in the lock and an exuberant, radiant Strat sailed into the apartment. They hugged and Strat bubbled, "We're going! We're going to go right away. I'll get the money together somehow and we'll fly out there for a week. It's even better than I remembered it. I had a ball! And when I say ball, I mean balling ball!"
Excited, Roz reeled off questions and Strat dropped to a chair, raising her hand for peace. "Hold it, for Christ's sake. One at a time. I can only answer one at a time. I'll tell you everything, but get me a nice tall, cool drink first. I'm parched."
Roz ran to get the drink and shouted to Strat to check her messages while she waited. "Everybody sounded desperately urgent. And that girl named Ruth sounded unhappy as hell that you were away. Bet she's looking for some action."
"Ruth!" Strat shouted in delight. "You're kidding! Ruth, my old buddy Ruth?"
"She said she was an old friend, so I guess she's your old buddy Ruth," a faint note of jealousy in her voice that Strat sounded so happy about the call.
Strat laughed aloud. "She's first. Must speak to that girl. And I think I've got an idea," she said softly, flipping the messages, her eyes dancing.
Roz returned to the living room carrying the drinks, "So, who's Ruth anyway?"
"Wow! Talking about mind signals or something. She's the girl I told you about who first fixed me up with old Ivan! I've got a date with him tonight and if she's free, I'll bring her along."
"Won't Ivan mind?" Roz asked, blushing a little as she heard the note of anxiousness and clear jealousy in her voice. If anyone went along, she wanted to be it.
Strat giggled, "Are you kidding? He's eternally grateful to her for introducing us and let me tell you, I'm pretty well set with that man. Why I can get around him in the middle of an opera, just whispering in his ear. If she were back on the scene, I doubt she could take him over again anyway. Most pros don't go that way, though. The only reason you fix up a good transfer is either to repay something or keep both around in case you need help of some kind at some time."
Strat scanned the messages thoughtfully. Roz had marked "sounds urgent" on Charlie and Irving, but underscored "Is urgent" on Sam. "Sam called three times, eh?" Strat asked, frowning slightly as she bit her lip. An idea growing stronger and stronger in her calculating mind.
"Yes," Roz answered. "Who the hell is Sam? I never heard you mention him before."
Strat laughed. "I guess I didn't mention him, because I haven't seem him in quite a while. Funny though, I just thought of him recently. Talk about weirdos, he's a real, live one. I'd rank him one of the strangest I've ever seen and you ought to know, I've seen a lot. His first absolute requirement in a broad is big tits."
Roz blushed suddenly as she remembered the delivery boy and his frenetic assault on her small breasts.
Strat, thinking that Roz had blushed, because of her own comparatively small boobs, hastened to assure her, "Not to milk, baby. Nope! He fucks them."
"Fucks them?" Roz looked at Strat incredulous. How the hell could he fuck a pair of tits.
"Yeah, he fucks them okay. He gets you all revved up and onto some kind of special recliner that tips way back and your head hangs over the edge. Then he squashes your tits up close together, his fingers holding the nipples close and his wrists lock the sides. Got the idea? See if you can visualize it."
Roz frowned, nodding her head slowly, the picture forming in her mind.
"Well," Strat continued, "he's got a real, long skinny dick and he slides it down into the covered cleavage that forms in his grip, and bango. He makes his scene. All over your goddamned stomach!"
Roz giggled, "Ugh," she gasped at the idea.
"Ugh, nothing!" Strat retorted. "He makes it worthwhile! He really makes the whole crazy mess worth your while!"
Strat looked back at the list and muttered, "Three times, eh? That's an urgent all right. Wonder where he's been."
Roz nodded, "Looks like you're going to be a busy little girl for a while." The note of jealousy returning to her voice, embarrassing her.
"You know, sugar," Strat said thoughtfully, flipping the messages in her hand, her eyes dancing and a small calculating smile forming on her full lips, "I just wonder if all these lovers are looking for tonight." Her voice trailed off.
"All of them!" Roz exclaimed, her eyes open wide. "What would you do with all three of them?"
"Be a lot of bread there, sweetheart. We could leave for Vegas tomorrow with that kind of bread. Suppose we had ourselves a group orgy. Charge everybody one big solid flat rate and they can stay as long as they want to, that is, till morning if they want."
"A group orgy?" Roz looked startled. She'd never been involved in an orgy before and in a way, she didn't really believe they existed. "But what could we do with all of them?" she asked, her voice puzzled.
"Hmmm," Strat said softly, "Just thinking. If Ruth were available tonight, she might just for the hell of it participate. You know, sort of like old time's sake? And a little extra bread never hurt any woman. Let me call her first, because even if we don't work out an orgy, she could still join Ivan and me tonight."
Although Strat hadn't seen Ruth in a long time, their conversation was warm and free. Ruth was delighted with the idea of seeing Ivan. And even more delighted with the proposed possible group party.
Roz's guess on that score had been accurate. She had indeed called Strat not only to talk, but she was hoping to find out if anything was happening that night. She was leaving in the morning, but she said laughing, "It surely wouldn't be the first time I ever got on an airplane stoned or dead-tired!"
Strat invited her to come early for dinner and they'd talk then, catching up on gossip. The date set they hung up and Strat turned back to Roz.
"Wow, this set-up's ideal. There's four men and three girls, but remember, old Irving's the voyeur. Our watcher. Man, he'd have so many twats rolling around on the floor that he'd go nuts trying to concentrate on one!" She giggled hysterically at the idea and Roz joined her laughter enthusiastically. Not only was she going to be part of the fun, but she'd at last meet the men in the exciting tales that Strat spun.
Strat decided to call Charlie next. She was keeping the date with Ivan anyway tonight and if Charlie wanted her too, he would either have to go with the group or call her up next time around. Strat had a firm policy not to change dates, even if one paid a lot more than the other. Her clients were well aware of this and respected her for it.
Charlie was cautious at first on the phone. He did want to see her that night, but a group scene was another thing entirely. He'd never been to one before much less participated in one and he just wasn't sure it was right for him.
Strat, knowing that he worried constantly about being caught and that he thought his own act strange as it was-after all, he wouldn't be out paying for it, if his wife provided it-talked casually to him.
"Look, sweetheart," she said keeping her voice husky, yet cajoling, "you pay the flat fee and if you don't want to participate, you don't have to. Just sit back and watch or if you don't like it, you can leave any time you want. You can afford the money. And remember, the three other guys are in somewhat similar situations. They're all customers too, so nobody's after anybody. And you know, my customers are regulars. No one is a stranger to me."
He was still reluctant, but she provided the clincher, "And I'll tell you something right now. Each one of those guys has got his thing too. And yours is a lot straighter than at least one of the others. I won't tell you who or how, you'll have to see it yourself."
Reassured by the confident tone of persuasion, Charlie said, "Okay, I'll come. But remember, that's no guarantee that I'll participate in the scene."
Strat laughed, "Absolutely! But if you'd care to make a wager on the side," she giggled, "I'd place odds you participate."
"Never mind," he growled good humoredly, "See you at eight."
She tackled Irving next. He didn't need any convincing. He had it all figured out in his thoughts that if he didn't actually put it in, he wasn't doing any wrong. Wrong doing had a special meaning to him and Strat could have cared less what his definitions were.
She just laughed, knowing full well that the idea of three naked pussies rolling about on the floor in front of him had him already breathing heavily into the phone.
Last on the list was Sam. Panicked that he would miss her entirely, his stay in town was overnight, he accepted immediately, not even asking who else would be there nor what their connection was with Strat. He could care less, he told her. All he wanted was a few minutes inside her gorgeous tits. His dick could already feel her.
Ivan called a short while later and Strat told him that she had a big surprise for him that evening. "I'm having a small fund-raising party for an excellent cause."
"You mean fund-raising orgy, don't you?" he said, laughing.
"You call it what you want to and I'll call it what I want to. The funds are sending me back to Vegas for a week to win back that money I lost when you decided that you were going to coach me. Up till then, I was doing fine," she teased.
Ivan agreed to come. The party was set.
Ruth arrived early and Strat and she hugged and kissed and exclaimed over one another. An endless chatter of gossip followed as the three girls ate Chinese food delivered from a local restaurant.
Although Roz didn't know any of the people the two girls talked about, their voice were so full of animation and their descriptions were so vivid that she listened in awe. Ruth's story telling was as graphic as Strat's.
A lull in the conversation brought Strat to plans for the evening. She gave Ruth a brief run-down on the other men and Ruth shrugged indifferent, "Nothing new there, but in a way it's new. I certainly haven't had much variety lately."
All three girls laughed and Strat said, "Why don't we really turn this into a fun party? Let's wear crazy costumes."
The others consented enthusiastically. The older girls, Ruth and Strat decided to dress Roz up as their French maid. They attached thin black stockings to a black lace garter belt, leaving Roz's small, firm ass bare. A dainty black silk cocktail apron was tied around her slender waist and a low cut, strapless, leopard print bra covered her small tits. Matching leopard high heels completed the outfit.
Ruth and Strat stepped back to admire their handiwork and Roz pranced gaily about the bedroom meowing.
"Papa cat, Charlie's going to purr and pounce when he gets one look at you, pussy cat," Strat said laughing.
Strat showed Ruth the outfit from Nick and they all agreed it was perfect for the party.
For Ruth, Strat took a white, elastic net bikini pantie girdle and cut a similar diamond in the crotch. She covered the pants with tin foil and fashioned two tiny tinfoil disks to her nipples. Her breasts were large and full, the rings about the nipples a deep crimson, and the large knobs on the tips turned almost white as they hardened under the stimulation of Strat's and Roz's pinching fingers as they worked to get the disks stuck in place.
Ruth giggled hysterically at her reflection in the mirror. Silver dust on her eyelids, above the black liner, made her eyes seem even bluer. With her long platinum hair flowing down her back, she looked almost ethereal.
Strat donned her costume quickly, rubbing her nipples until they jutted out from the cup holes. She decided to wear the hood and face mask only for her first appearance.
At eight o'clock sharp, the doorbell rang.
"Who do you suppose it is? We'll bet and the loser, or losers, takes him first," Strat proposed, her eyes gleaming.
Innocent Roz looked willing, but Ruth interceded quickly, "Not on your life, baby. You know them too well. Go ahead, maid, answer the door. We'll take our chances."
Roz went to the door and suddenly paused, stopping short, her hand on the doorknob, "Suppose it isn't any one of them?" she asked, looking down at her brief costume, her face flushing.
Strat laughed. "We'll invite him or her or them in anyway. It'll be their lucky night!"
Timidly, Roz opened the front door. Shocked, she stared, neither moving nor speaking.
All four men stood there, silently, eyeing each other in stony side glances. Only Ivan seemed amused and relaxed.
Strat and Ruth looked at one another puzzled. Then Strat shrugged her shoulders and clapped her hands. "You're fired as a maid! Let's see if we can find something else useful for you to do! Come, we can't have our guests standing in the hallway all night."
Blushing, her eyes lowered, Roz stood aside and gestured weakly for the party of men to enter. They filed in one by one and Strat hugged and greeted each in the foyer.
Ivan spotted Ruth, shouted in delight, and they rushed into one another's joyous embrace. As Ruth rushed forward to Ivan's outstretched arms, Sam's eyes widened hungrily, as they fastened on her big tits.
Roz moved first, leading the group into the living room and Charlie's eyes locked on the ivory, twin hemispheres that swayed provocatively before him. Strat caught both looks and laughed happily, relieved that they were off to such an excellent start. The pro in Strat reacted instantly to the slightest spark of lust in a man.
The guests promptly seated themselves as far apart as they could and Strat collected the pre-filled envelopes discreetly, whispering a word of encouragement to each of her clients, while Ruth and Roz served potent drinks with enthusiasm.
"Now!" Strat clapped her hands. "Let's get this show on the road. Why don't you all take off your clothes and get comfortable?"
No one moved and all eyes turned to stare at Strat uncomfortably, except for Ivan, who laughed, amused at his colleagues' hesitation.
Ruth giggled, "A real bunch of party poopers," she announced.
Then, a calculatedly provocative smile crossed her rich lips and she lowered her heavily fringed eyes demurely as she moved sensuously across the room and stood in front of Ivan.
The other men watched her attentively.
She turned her body at an angle for the others to view, and languorously raised one leg, resting her foot on the arm of Ivan's chair. With her exposed pussy on full view, she arched her slender back, forcing her huge tits to stand straight out, the tinfoil disks shifting dangerously, threatening to pop off. She stared down into Ivan's ready eyes, seemingly oblivious to the audience.
He smiled appreciatively at her act, sipped his drink, and waited expectantly.
"I've missed you, you big, luscious cock." Her voice was low and husky with sex, but loud enough for the others to hear clearly. "I remember when that hard pecker was all mine. When I could hold it and stroke it and eat it as long as I wanted to. Eat it all up." Her voice drawled the all and ended with a low, sensuous purr.
Ivan still smiled, but his eyes were intent now and burned into Ruth's, mesmerized by her voice.
Across the room, Roz perched on the arm of another chair, staring in fascination at the drama unfolding before her innocent eyes.
Strat smiled smugly. Ruth was okay. She could still do the bit. And Roz added just the right balance to the scene with her blushing cheeks and wide-eyed, awed expression. The other three men were listening intently and showed perceptible signs of relaxing.
Ruth continued, "Well, you delicious cock," she said pouting. "Aren't you going to tell me how much you missed me? Or have you forgotten the taste of my honey box? Or forgotten how good my big tits taste in your mouth? I didn't forget you, you ungrateful prick. Come on, I want to see that rifle that I remember so well. That rifle that banged away inside me so hard and filled me full of holes!" Her eyes gleamed and her lips parted sensuously, her tongue flicking out to wet the flesh.
Without speaking, Victor pulled his turtleneck sweater off and undid his pants. Ruth kept talking and he kicked his shoes off and slipped out of his pants, taking his shorts with him. He seemed totally unconscious of the audience of envious men. He leaned back in the chair, naked, his big cock distended, standing upright between his spread thighs.
Irving had lost all interest in his drink. His eyes were glued to Ruth's open, black bush and a visible lump showed in his pants. Suddenly, he looked quickly at Strat and then back to Ruth's nest. Quietly, and as quickly as he could, he stripped and sat back comfortably, his exposed dick semi-hard. He kept one hand round it, stroking up and down, slowly and evenly, his eyes riveted on Ruth's goodies.
Charlie and Sam emptied their drinks and Strat beckoned Roz to refill them silently. She joined Ruth at Ivan's chair and sat on the other arm, her legs spread wide, her cunt open and wet, the juices glistening on the soft blonde hair, her nipples hard and red, jutting straight out of the open cups.
"Look at it, Strat," Ruth breathed heavily. "Isn't that the most marvelous thing you've ever seen in your life? I swear I've never seen a shlong that looked so scrumptious." She knelt on the floor between his spread legs and took his swollen, hard prick in her hand and continued to admire it in husky, breathless phrases.
Strat's eyes roamed professionally over the others, noting that Charlie and Sam were still dressed.
Ruth lowered her mouth to Ivan's cock, but tilted her head back so that the others could watch too, and her tongue stretched way out. Slowly, she licked the bulging pink cockhead. "Delicious," she murmured. "Absolutely delicious. It tastes just like I remember. The flavor's marvelous, different from any others that I've tried."
She turned her head slightly in the direction of the others. "I want to compare the flavor. Is there anybody else who has a cock here for me to compare the taste with. I want to take all your lovely cocks inside my hungry mouth and sample them."
"I'm left out," Strat said with a pouting smile. She cupped one hard nipple and pushed it toward Ivan. "Don't forget me. She," Strat said, gesturing her head toward the bulging tit, "wants your luscious hot mouth to suck her." She looked down at her swollen, distended nipple, and smiled pleadingly. "See? She's asking you."
Ivan leaned forward and tongued the tip of Strat's tit. Below, Ruth tipped his taut pole perpendicular, holding it with one finger at the tip and licked up and down the sensitive underside. "Oh, yes. It didn't forget me after all. See that, Strat? My big peter's wagging his tail for more of my hot kisses."
Roz, looking eager to join, the glasses all full, watched Strat for a clue to act. Strat smiled at her and glanced at the others. Irving's hand was moving faster and faster and his cock was now in full erection. He sure knew his thing, she thought smiling. Charlie and Sam seemed totally hypnotized.
"Oooh," Strat moaned. "My poor little wet pussy has an itch." She wiggled her hips on the arm chair, keeping her legs still open wide. "Scratch my itch, Roz," she said pleadingly.
Roz grinned and rushed to the chair. She knelt on the floor between Strat's legs, lowering herself, and her smooth round buttocks rested on her heels. Keeping her head tilted back like Ruth, she tongued Strat's wet cunt teasingly.
Ivan was sucking noisily on Strat's nipple and Ruth was now buried in his balls, her voice muffled as she described them. Charlie tilted his head, straining to see Roz's buttocks and Strat caught his look.
"Oh, that's right! Scratch me good, baby." Strat thrust her ass off the edge of the chair, her legs extended, her knees bent, causing Roz to shift her position to her hands and knees to continue her tonguing. Her small hump was high up in the air.
Charlie licked his lips frantically, swallowed deeply from his glass, and looking over at Irving, naked and stroking his cock faster and faster, and then at Victor, naked too, he half shrugged and silently stripped.
Charlie stood, his cock rigid and unbending as he walked over to the group and sat Yoga fashion in back of Roz. Gently he squeezed and kneaded her small, but meaty cheeks.
"Mmmm," she responded, tonguing Strat's clit faster, her tongue moving in on the swollen clit. She parted the soft hairy lips with her fingers and squeezed the red M-shaped mound out further.
Sam looked quickly around the room and then turned his gaze back to Ruth's tits, the largest in the room. Staring, he undressed.
Strat was pleased and excited with the pace of the party. Her tits tingling under Victor's mouth, Ruth's stimulating voice and Roz's expert tongue soon took their toll.
"Ohhh," she moaned softly. A small orgiastic spasm rippled over her. A pleasant soothing relief. She grinned happily. "How rude of me to come first."
"There'll be more," Ivan promised. The others laughed and nodded in agreement.
Charlie had his hands around Roz's hips and was gently tugging her smooth hump toward him. Strat pushed her head gently back from her pussy and Roz nodded, understanding. She rested her hands flat on the floor and arched her butt higher toward Charlie.
Charlie reached both hands out to Strat's wet pussy and soaked his fingers in the flowing love juice, and then applied them gently, lubricating Roz's tender asshole.
With Charlie working, Strat turned her attention to the others. "Oh, Ivan, that tongue was delicious and it licked all my honey away. Could your big hand see if there's any more?"
Ruth sat back and Ivan went down on the floor up on his knees, his big cock stiff and straight and Strat walked over in front of him. His knees were spread wide. Talking softly and continuously, Strat nudged his cock head with her wet cunt, swaying her hips, inching her legs wider and wider apart in a split to reach his shaft.
Ruth pushed the arm chair away, and lay flat on her back on the floor, her head raised between Ivan's legs she gently tongued his balls.
Sam, seeing his initial target free, went quickly over to Ruth. He straddled her stomach, his weight resting on his bent legs and unveiled her dark red nipples, his breath heavy. He played gently with the huge tits gathering them up in his hands, squeezing them closer together. His long, firm, skinny rod lying flat on her stomach twitched and the tip pressed toward the tunnel between her bulging breasts pushed up in his hands.
The two groups were side by side and Irving walked round and round. Ruth's legs were wide apart, her swollen clit peeped from her hairy bush. Roz's was harder to see and as he walked he looked down at Roz from different angles. Charlie's hard cock prodded and poked at her unstretched virgin asshole. She was excited and wildly stimulated, not only with everything going on around her, but over the promised act that she had heard so much about and fantasized over.
Charlie worked slowly at Roz's ass, and Strat, knowing it was a first for Roz, reached out and took a small tube of vaseline from Roz's apron. She had slipped it there purposely without Roz knowing. She handed it to Charlie wordlessly and winked.
Charlie understood. He applied large gobs of vaseline to his long shaft and Roz relaxed as his prick probed further, the slippery coating eased the difficult entry. He was trembling in the effort to control his pace. The excitement of a virgin ass was overwhelming.
The pressure in her ass was strange and exciting, not unlike her first fuck. The heavy air of hot breaths, the sounds of sucking mouths, and the erotic, barely audible whispering of Ivan and Strat erased any hesitation she had and she felt no pain at all.
Charlie was all the way in now and although he knew she had not tensed he wanted her urgently to enjoy it. He slowly and tenderly shifted his position so that he sat on the floor, lowering Roz to his lap. He sat, his legs spread wide, and stroked her inner thighs, pulling her legs wide, pressing them against his soft hairy legs. He lightly rubbed the outer sides up and down. With the action of his legs and hips, his cock moved slowly up and down inside its tight fit and Roz moaned softly.
Irving stood slightly back from the two open twats, his eyes going back and forth wildly, unable to decide which to stay with.
Strat tugged both Ivan's ears, and he had guided his cockhead into her open, wet pit. Her legs still spread wide, she contracted her cunt muscles squeezing and sucking the tip, pulling it to draw it further in. Her face was flushed and Ivan's mouth burned into her. "Oh, yes," she moaned. "Yes. Come in. We're serving tea and honey cakes in the room at the end of the hall. Just go straight ahead down the corridor."
Still tonguing Ivan's balls, Ruth slid one hand up rubbing her fingers hard and rapid on the underside of his cock, urging it further inside Strat's blazing pussy. Her other hand went down between her legs and one leg stretched out so wide it reached Charlie's spread leg and rubbed the outer side. She parted her thick hairy lips with her free hand, flattening and squeezing them till the bulging clit quivered.
Irving grabbed a pillow and slid it under Ruth's ass and her juicy cunt hole raised up to him.
Charlie lay back on the floor, his hands cupped Roz's breasts, pulling her back flat on him. She bent her knees, resting her feet on his thighs, and opened her snatch and furry lips wide, her fingers playing with her clit.
Irving planted himself between both cunts and his eyes went from one to the other as his hand moved and faster and faster.
Strat wailed, "Ohhh, not again ... ". Clutching Ivan's head to her breast tightly she sailed off in ecstasy.
She regrouped quickly and kissed Ivan on the forehead, whispering in his ear, "You're magnificent. I'm proud of you." He had not come. His whole body was rigid in the effort to hold his load for more action.
Sam's pencil-like dick was buried deep inside Ruth's breasts, and he slid slowly in and out easily with the sweat that formed in the closed tunnel of tits, the white nipples pinched between his fingers. Ruth's torso swayed with the rhythm of his movement.
Strat slid off Ivan's steel pole and stepped back. Ruth dropped her head to the floor, her eyes trained on Sam now. Strat pointed, stepped around and studied Sam. "Hey Sam," she called, "why don't you have Ruth get on her hands and knees. You'd have a real cavern with those tits, they're so big."
Sam nodded, a big smile on his face. Ruth rolled over quickly, turned her head and pressed tightly against Sam's stomach. He grabbed her now elongated, huge tits and bunched them together pulling them toward him, his cock sliding in straight to the tunnel. Ruth's ass arched up in the air.
Strat was unconcerned with Irving. There were certainly enough pussies floating around for him to get his. Ivan sat on the floor. His cock had softened slightly and Strat moved over beside him again.
"I think that big gorgeous cock is very impolite and very ungrateful. An old friend came to visit it and other than a formal salute, it hasn't spoken again." Her voice was low husky and Ivan's cock sprang back into life, ready, as several drops of clear liquid squeezed out of the slit in the head.
"See!" Strat said triumphantly. "It's ashamed. It's so ashamed it's weeping." She lowered her head swiftly and licked the juice from the swollen pink head. "Even your tears are delicious."
She moved back and Ivan knelt between Ruth's spread legs, his hands beneath her, one hand cupped her furry mound, the bent fingers close together, forming a block that his prick pressed up against, the other hand leading and guiding the shaft to its destination. He whispered urgently, his head close to Ruth's, apologizing for his cock and begging her box to open and receive him.
Charlie had his hands gripped firmly on Roz's hips and raised her slowly up and down on his greased dick. The position was limiting, because he couldn't get up any speed. But Roz, her fingers working on her clit frantically, was moaning in pleasure.
Strat came round and looked down at Charlie. She waved a hand silently, suggesting he shift the position. He whispered in Roz's ear and still locked together, they sat and squirmed into a new angle. Roz was on her knees, her legs between Charlie's. He too was on his knees behind her, his legs spread wide to adjust his height to her ass.
Sam looked panicky for now the twats were concealed. His face was scarlet and sweating as his frenzied hand slowed its pace. Strat winked at him, and whispered, "Take it easy, baby. You'll see 'em all."
She grabbed the pillows that Ruth had used and dropped them on the floor in front of Roz. She sat down, her head below Roz's wet pussy that Roz was still frantically fingering. She spread her legs wide and with one hand parted her cunt lips, the fine blonde hair looked darker, soaked in love juice and saliva. The swollen red button quivered and gleamed in contrast to the pink trenches and shiny dark blonde hair.
Strat's other hand moved rapidly up into Roz's cunt, pushing lightly at one inner thigh for Roz to part wider. Roz inched apart and Charlie groaned in pleasure, the separation forcing her buttocks to close even tighter round his thin pole. His hands came up and gripped her small, ivory, conical breasts tightly.
Strat's damp, perspiration dotted forehead brushed Charlie's hanging balls and her hot wet tongue probed Roz's pussy. Roz quickly separated her fiery cunt lips, moaning and urging Strat's tongue, begging her not to tease, but to work.
Irving gave a loud bellow and his thick white come spurted, arched, and hit the rug. He collapsed backward into an armchair, gasping for breath, still holding his empty organ, squeezing it tightly, his knuckles white.
Sam and Ivan, without looking at one another, had picked up each other's time. Ivan was bent over Ruth's back, whispering, his voice slurred and thick, in Ruth's ear, his eyes closed.
Sam's hands clenched tight round Ruth's big tits, his cock moving rhythmically between them, but his eyes were fastened on Strat's gyrating breasts, the crinkled buds erect and bright red.
Ruth moaned and begged Ivan to go faster. He banged into her, humping her frantically, his hands a vise on her shoulders, his forehead streaming with perspiration, the veins distinct and popping, and his teeth clenched trying to stem his tide. The force of his sudden plunging cock nearly toppled Sam, but he hung on to Ruth's tits, and recovered his balance to wham furiously into the tight wet tunnel.
Sam groaned as he shot, his fiery fountain spraying across Ruth's stomach. In the explosion, he mashed her tits hard, his fingers digging into the tender skin in a painful grip.
But Ruth was beyond pain. She never even felt the hot liquid hit her stomach. It dripped to the floor below. She was swept up in a desperate climb. Sam let go of her breasts and fell backward. She dropped her head to the ground, her hips jerking spastically as Ivan screamed, "Come! Come!"
And Roz was coming. The word echoed in her ears as she writhed wildly over Strat's sucking mouth, her thighs gripping Strat's head tightly. Charlie lunged in and out of her ass, his hands gripping her breasts, her writhing hips sending him over the edge. Her cunt juices exploded and burst into Strat's hungry mouth and Charlie poured into her ass.
Spent, slowly, the mass of bodies parted and stretched out on the floor.
Sam turned to Irving. His voice friendly, he said, "I guess we ought to make this round of drinks-we had the longest time to recover."
Irving nodded in agreement and the two naked men headed for the kitchen with the empty glasses. The atmosphere of the room was warm and relaxed. The men seemed no longer uncomfortable with one another. They talked easily and drank.
As Strat had expected, after the fresh drinks were drained, all the men were leaving, except Ivan. Ruth teased them playfully about why they had to leave and Ivan, Roz, and Strat roared with laughter.
But like any man, Ivan couldn't bear their red faces. When he stopped laughing, he said, "Take it easy fellows. This chick Ruth could be your neighbor. In real life, she's a housewife who lives somewhere out there with a sweet, straight guy. She's just been having herself a little old time's sake fling."
The three men stared at Ruth in amazement. She flopped on the floor convulsed with laughter.
Charlie shook his head sadly. "If my little housewife were anything like this little housewife, I wouldn't be here."
Sam and Irving nodded in agreement.
Kisses, thanks and promises were exchanged and they exited.
"Come on, girls," Ivan announced. "I'll take you all out to supper and then we'll come back and ball all night."
Strat grinned, "You're on! But first I have to make our airline reservation."
