I was only nineteen when I met Michael. He was a lot older than me, a graduate student at the University. I was impressionable and I was in love, he had turned me on sexually, taken my virginity and replaced it with a burning insatiation. He was so handsome, so smart, so sophisticated, and when he asked me to move in with him I nearly burst with joy.
I was a fool, an inexperienced fool. I set about decorating with enthusiasm, with a drive to learn and to love. I set up house for Michael, cooking and cleaning and neglecting my schoolwork. For the three semesters that I lived with him I just managed to get by.
It never failed, whenever I started to hit my books he would crook his finger at me or blow in my ear or just parade around naked and within seconds I would be taking his cock up my cunt or in my mouth, forgetting all about my homework.
Most of the time he didn't even have to do anything to excite me, I would just start thinking about his prick and my cunt would be burning to be reamed by him. In those days I walked around, went to classes, did the shopping, took in a movie, no matter what I did, I was always on the brink of an orgasm, I was always conscious of having a cunt.
As the weeks went by and we got use to living together Michael changed somewhat. He didn't want me so much. He didn't fuck me every night, and often he would stay up studying all the night long, leaving me sleepless in our bed.
I didn't change at all, though. In fact, if anything, I grew to want him more. I became accustomed to his hard cock in me, I felt empty without it there. He would come to bed finally and lie down, falling off to sleep and I would caress his back turned to me, or my hands would slip around to his front and I would take his balls in my grasp. Trying to stimulate him, trying to make him want me the way he use to.
And sometimes he would joke about me; he would say I was a bottomless pit, a nymphomaniac and that it would take more than just him to satisfy me. But that wasn't it at all, I wanted him because I loved him. I didn't want anybody else.
The last night we were together. Oh, yes, how well I remember that even now, even sixteen years later. He had come home early from classes in the afternoon and announced to me that he was having three of his friends over for dinner. They were planning on celebrating because one of them had just won his ph.D. He told me to cook up something really special and that I was to look special myself. It sounded like fun to me and as I cooked I listened to him, showering and dressing, singing all the while.
He had gotten a lot of booze in the house for the occasion. That was something we rarely did, we were always short on cash. But he had made it clear this was to be a celebration.
The guests arrived and dinner went spendidly. Everyone was terribly gay and drinking quite a lot. There wasn't too much for me to say, I barely knew the people and I felt somewhat like a second thumb. Nevertheless I was enjoying seeing Michael so happy. I just sat at my end of the table smiling and looking attentive.
As time progressed and the dinner dishes were cleared away, they got down to serious drinking, finally they no longer poured the liquor but drank from the bottles. At this point the conversation turned to sex, they teased each other and talked about various girls I knew. I was a little jealous when they kept referring to some woman that was always out for Michael, but I continued smiling. I began to think that these men weren't acting anymore like highly educated gentlemen than a cage full of baboons.
"Well, Rex, now that you've made it," Michael was saying to the new Doctor, "I think that you deserve one wish to be granted by the local fairy, what would you like, within reason?"
"Ah," said another, "I'll bet he'd like to get laid, he's been so busy studying he hasn't had time to jerk-off."
I decided to go into the kitchen to wash the dishes at that point but as I rose Michael grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my seat.
"What do you think of this chick, Rex?" Michael said indicating me.
Rex looked at me hungrily and I looked at Michael, "Please, Michael, stop." I said.
"Do you know, Rex, that this chick is so fucking horny that not even I can satisfy her lust?" Michael said, holding my arm tightly.
The others laughed, all of them looking at me.
"What do you say, Jane?" Michael said to me, "Do you wanna fuck Rex?"
"Michael," I whispered, "You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying."
"Bullshit, I know what I'm saying. I think you'd like to fuck Rex and maybe Carl and Al, too." He stood up from his chair, weaving somewhat and pulled me to my feet.
"Well," Rex laughed, "Let's see the merchandise!"
Michael promptly took a hold of the front of my dress and ripped the material right in half. My arms flew to cover my naked breasts, but he got behind me and held my arms back.
I screamed at him, but one of the other guys stepped forward quickly and took the ripped material from my dress and stuffed it into my mouth. Tears formed in my eyes and I struggled with them, but to no avail. They were drunken animals who didn't know the meaning of reason.
One of them ripped my panties off of me until I stood struggling in Michael's arms in the shredded remains of my clothing. It was a wretched nightmare, but my eyes were wide open with horror and I was seeing everything.
I saw the lecherous expressions of Michael's friends as they began to paw at my flesh, as if I were a manikin, as if I were the ball in some sort of sport.
I felt Michael's crude grasp around my body. I could not believe it was happening, couldn't believe my beloved Michael was treating me so cruelly.
It got worse. I nearly choked on my gag when I saw the one called Rex unzip his fly and immediately pull out a tremendous erection. His cock was as stiff as an ironing board and purple as lilac flowers.
As he approached me, the other two friends kneeled on either side of me and spread my legs wide for his approach. He put his arms around my waist and pressed his erection against my struggling body.
"This is no good, Michael, this chick of yours doesn't want to cooperate." Rex said, pulling away from me. "Can't we put her on the table or something?"
"Sure, anything you want, Rex." Michael said. moving me toward the cleared table.
They lay me on the white tablecloth and they spread my legs wide. Michael stayed down at my head and made sure I didn't make any noise. Rex immediately climbed onto the table, I felt the weight of him across my thighs as he positioned himself to fuck me.
As I struggled under their grasps, Rex's hand covered my pubic mound and he began to massage my cunt very hard. With his fingers he separated my cunt lips and then stuck two of them right up the hole. He whirled them around inside me, exploring my vagina with his fingers. He found my clitoris and twisted it and rubbed it gently, but very fast. I knew he was trying to arouse me, which seemed like the worst thing of all, but he didn't spend too much time fingering my cunt.
No, he was anxious to stick his hard rod up into my warm flesh. He positioned his cock at the entrance to my cunt, he pushed it in a few inches and then without further ado he rammed up into me.
My back arched against the table as his cock was pushed into me up to the hilt, until I could feel his resilient balls bouncing against my asshole. Michael held his hand over my mouth filled with torn dress material. His friend lowered his whole body over me and began to hump me rather slowly.
"Come on, Rex," said Michael, looking down at me, "You can do better than that! Fuck her, man!"
Rex needed no further enticement than that. I felt the force and the pace of his cock quicken. I felt the whole of his meat ramming into me, breaking me apart with its urgent need to release itself.
My body burned with shame, with betrayal, with hatred for Michael and his friends. As my body was battered under the brutal humping of Rex tears rolled off the side of my face into my hair.
One of the others crawled up to my side and put his face down onto my breasts. He began to suck on my tit very hard, using his hands to squeeze my flesh up into pliable mounds. Rex changed his position in order to accommodate his friend's sucking of my tit.
I heard another zipper somewhere being undone. Michael removed his hand from my mouth and then pulled the gag out. For the few minutes that my mouth was free I screamed obscenities at him. But not for long, because he climbed up onto the table and very awkwardly shoved as much of his cock into my mouth as he could.
The weight of him on the table was too much and the legs collapsed underneath. All of the bodies fell with a crash onto the floor with mine on the bottom. That didn't stop them, oh, no. The man with his cock plowing my cunt started to some and his cock drove in and out of me at a fantastic speed. It bounced off my cervix and caused me a great deal of discomfort.
I choked for air as now Michael had a better course to my mouth. He pried open my mouth with his fingers and then stuck his cock into it, telling me to suck him off. I wasn't about to comply, so he just rammed it right in. He filled my mouth with his hard meat, all the way down my throat, causing me to wretch from the intrusion. My cunt felt the explosion of hot come filling the muscular cavity. But I was beginning to loose touch with all that was happening to my body. I couldn't understand the hands that were laid on me, the hands that were squeezing my nipples and my breasts, caressing my stomach and holding my legs apart. I couldn't make out what the huge, hard thing was that was plunging down into my throat. I felt that cock being removed from my cunt, but soon it was replaced by another, hard as the first when it began and that one now began its descent and its ascent to satisfaction at my expense.
The four men used my body as if it weren't something belonging to a living creature, as if it were something they had purchased in a store, something disposable. To be used once and then discarded, they were completely uninhibited now. Whether it was the booze that had brought out this horribly aggressive nature in them or not I did not know.
I only knew that they did not consider me a human being or even a woman at that point. I was merely a receptacle for their cocks, something to bring about their sexual release and satisfaction.
But they had all come into some part of me by this time. I was vaguely aware of that, thinking that perhaps they would stop this abuse. They had no such intentions and their bodies were not at all ready to stop.
I looked dizzily around at the standing creatures and they all had their flaming cocks still dangling out in the air. Their organs were all in various states of erection but not one was limp.
I looked fearfully into their faces, trying to elicit some kind of response from one of them, some acknowledgement that I was a human being with feelings too.
"Shouldn't we make her come, Mike?" one of them said, not even looking at me.
Michael shrugged, "It might be amusing." But as his friends moved towards me, he stopped them, saying that he had a better idea. He disappeared for a moment into the kitchen, returning with a long, thin bottle.
I cried out miserably as I saw what he had decided would give me an orgasm.
The others laughed wickedly as they situated me on the couch, once again I felt their rough fingers pressing against my flesh. I struggled anew, clamping my legs together hard. This was a big joke to them, it was too easy for them to wrench my legs apart and get at my cunt.
Michael kneeled between my legs on the couch, then his head went down into my crotch and his tongue found my xlitoris. He began to lick all around it, sucking it gently into his mouth. It was just like all the other times before when he had gone down on me. Those times in our bed when I had arched my back and rolled my eyes with the pleasure of his tongue. How happy I had been there, thinking that he was going down on me because he loved me, because he loved the taste of my cunt.
I could not help but respond to his wet caresses, just like I always had. So skillfully he manipulated my clitoris and then he would lick down both sides of the labia, teasing the entrance to my inner flesh. He burrowed down deeper into my cunt and sucked up my cunt lips, returning occasionally to my clitoris. In spite of the bruised feelings in most parts of my body and especially in that area, his tongue was so soothing, so stimulating that I found my body relaxing, urging him onward.
One of the others began to suck on my tit, but gently this time, almost lovingly tasting my nipples and caressing my breasts. Still another petted my hair, and all this kind of attention put me into a great sense of well-being, of warmth. My body was slipping into that aura of pleasure where somewhere in my mind was screaming.
But it was too late, my body was responding in much the same way those beasts had acted. I was imprisoned within my own flesh which had already become a slave to sensual manipulations.
Just as I began to shut my eyes with the deepest of pleasures, feeling an urgent need centering in my loins. A warmth spreading through my thighs, my buttocks, a burning in my cunt, Michael withdrew his head and got up again on his knees.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled down at me with my secretions all over his lips and his chin. He licked his lips.
"What? You haven't come yet?" He said, "You really are a nympho, aren't you?"
"Please, Michael, just a little longer, please." I whispered.
They all laughed at my expense. My own hand flew down to my burning crotch. I clutched at myself and drew my legs up.
"Please, Michael, fuck me." I pleaded. It was insane; I couldn't believe I was acting in that manner. That I would ask such a thing of him, in front of all those other men. Those men who had only recently had their own ways with me. That I was asking Michael who had engineered the whole thing in the first place.
But there just didn't seem to be anymore pride left in my body, only desire for fulfillment, for release, the same as those beasts that had known me, that had shoved their cocks up me and humped me until they were satisfied.
They had had no pride and they had robbed me of my own. What did it matter.
"Please, Michael, I'm begging you." I intoned, rubbing my clitoris desperately.
"I'm tired of fucking you, Jane. Maybe you'd like one of the other guys to do it. How about that?"
I looked at the other men with desperate animal eyes, from the states of their members I would have said that any one of them was more than able to do a job on me. But Michael shook his head at them.
"Later, Jane, we need a rest," He handed me the bottle he had gone to the kitchen to get. "Use this, go ahead stick it up your damn cunt, I'll even help you."
Tears filled my eyes, "No, Michael, please, haven't you done enough?" I tried to push his hands away from me, the hands holding the deadly looking bottle, much longer and thicker than any cock I had ever seen.
But the other men held me down on the couch and they spread my legs out again. One of them even put a couple of pillows under my ass so I would be easier to get at.
Michael put the head of the bottle at the entrance of my cunt. He began to work it up; into me, slowly but surely, working the whole length and width of the bottle up into my insides.
The fillingness of the object caused my back to arch and my whole body to tense up with the surprise and the pain of it. I screamed out but quickly a hand came over my mouth to prevent me from making too much noise.
"Shut up, you whore, you're going to love it." Michael said between his teeth as he began to work the thing in and out of my cunt. He held the bottle with one hand and found a rhythm in the grotesque fucking he was doing. With the other hand he massaged my pubic mound vigorously, stroking my clitoris rapidly.
And the sensations were incredible. I began to hump upwards with my body, losing again," all sense of the situation that I was in, forgetting myself entirely in demand of my body to have satisfaction.
I began to whimper underneath the hand over my mouth. Soon the hand was removed and I moaned out loud. They loved that and they all set to caressing my body and watching the coming and the going of the hard object slithering in my cunt.
Michael began to fuck me harder and faster with the bottle, he pressed deep into my clitoris with his fingernail. A cry of pain rose in my throat, but I suppressed it. Because it all felt very good, really it did.
That bottle felt huge and hard. It filled my cunt completely and Michael's hand wrapped over the rest of my female parts was stimulating the hell out of me.
I writhed underneath the hands, shoving my body upward to meet the onslaught of the bottle. I felt urgency coursing through my veins, I felt a certain madness creeping into my brain. I was entering a period of fleshly culmination in which I cared about nothing, but my body moved with the flavor of orgasm.
I shivered inwardly, feeling my flesh dissolve with passion and need. My hands reached out, but someone was sitting on them and I could hardly move my fingers.
I cried out in orgasm, closing my eyes tightly, my face contorting with lust and the peak of satisfaction.
It did not last very long at all, not even as long as usual. And when my body soon stopped writhing I expected Michael to remove the bottle and discontinue the whole thing. I was wrong again. He continued to force the bottle inside of me, even doing it harder and faster.
I begged him to stop. Finally he did, but by this time my cunt was terribly sore. The backs of my thighs felt weak, numb.
"Shit, Mike," said Rex, "Watching that scene really got to me. Do you mind if I have another go at her?"
Michael, of course, didn't mind at all and left his place between my legs for his friend. Rex talked to me, explained he hadn't done it right before, but this time he sure as hell was going to.
He went into me, sliding his hard cock right up into my cunt, not even giving me a chance to catch my breath. He lay flat against my body in traditional missionary position and then just began to hump me as hard as he could.
He found my mouth and began to kiss me savagely, as his cock plunged into my poor flesh, his tongue plunged into my mouth and he licked at my mouth and sucked at my tongue.
His pelvic bone banged against mine and his body flailed about my body. He jumped in and out of my cunt and it almost seemed as if he were far more into it than the first time he had done it. He seemed mad with his passion, his sick passion.
And when he came he bit my tongue and wildly fucked me until every last drop of his semen had flooded into me.
When he was finished he was replaced by another and another. Oh, yes, they went on and on into the night, using me in every way imaginable until I finally found that I could no longer stand it, until I became unconscious.
In the morning I awoke. It was horrible. The room about me was in shambles. The furniture broken, the rugs stained, flower pots were overturned and dirt spilled onto the floor.
I stood up or rather I tried to and my feet collapsed underneath me. I fell to the floor in pain. I crawled into the bathroom and pulled myself up to a standing position. The sight in the mirror was worse than the sight of the living room.
I was a patchwork of bruises. My face was caked with come, with spit. I touched the sore spots on my body. My hair was tangled and matted my eyes were clouded and seemed small in my face.
I turned on the hot water and filled the bath. I took a long hot bath, not thinking of anything in particular except the heat and kindness of the water. I examined my legs, my stomach, my breasts, noting all the evidence of abuse.
When I got out of the tub and dried off I was filled by a conundrum of emotions. I felt anger, yes anger, but more sadness than anger. I had truly loved Michael, I had trusted him, I had never imagined him capable of such unwarranted brutality.
I walked into the bedroom, knowing that somehow I had to pack my things, somehow I had to get out of there before he came back. But it was very difficult for me to move, to organize my thoughts.
I tried to think of someone I could call, someone who would come and help me, but I knew that there was no one. When I had moved in with Michael I had abandoned all my other friends. No one had seemed as interesting or as stimulating as him.
I realized what a fool I had been, the whole time we had been together I saw that he had used me. Maybe not in such a blatant way as the night before, but in a subtle and perhaps more destructive way.
I had been his slave all right, his fool. The pain in my heart swept over me and I burst into tears. But I fought them, somehow hysteria would be just the thing expected of me.
I knew that from somewhere in my being I had to muster the strength to pack and go. I had to find some self-respect somewhere and use it as my vehicle to continue existence. When I had packed what I could carry I called a taxi and asked the man to take me to a dormitory where an old friend of mine lived.
She was surprised to see me since I hadn't talked to her in months. I didn't tell her about what had happened, she just figured that I had broken up with Michael. She was good enough to allow me to stay in her room with her until the school found me another room in a dormitory.
I tried not to think about Michael at all. I just went to the library or to class and no place else. I studied hard for the rest of the semester and all those after that. I stayed to myself, I stuck with my books. I found that I preferred the company of books to that of human beings, and I guess that's why I finally went into Library Science.
Years later after Graduate School I was offered a position in the archives of a museum in New York City. It was a challenging position with plenty of opportunity, but I didn't want it. I turned it down and at the age of twenty-eight went to work in a small town library in Massachusetts.
South Leeport is a quiet town and it all suited my quiet lifestyle just perfectly. When I turned thirty-three, I became head librarian there.
And I suppose I was happy all those years. I lived among the books and the young school children. But I am still a young woman, only thirty-five. My body is fine and well-formed, my breasts are twin mounds of white flesh, perhaps just a little to large. My skin is perfect and my hair is auburn, and though it is very long, I always tie it up into a bun.
I am young still and perhaps far more attractive than I was at nineteen. My body is alive with desires, sometimes I find myself at night ... ah, but I must control these thoughts.
There is nothing in the world for me but books, I know this very well, for I cannot bear the thought of a man.
CHAPTER TWO
It was a summer afternoon, perhaps a Wednesday, that I stood in the stacks of the library reading an ancient volume. The room was very quiet, there were only a couple of people bent over books as most of humanity was out on the beaches enjoying the marvelous weather.
I felt somewhat languid, tempted by the indolence of the day, the hushed quiet of the library. The book I had opened was Hippolytus and I read about Phaedra who was consumed by her passion for the young son of her husband.
As I read I felt my skin burning for her, for her desire that would always be unfulfilled. How she needed his body, his young, firm body in exchange for the old, battered body of her husband.
I was so consumed by compassion and so vicariously involved in her hopeless love that I quite forgot where I was, that I even forgot who I was, I suppose. I read on, my thighs aching for Phaedra, for Hippolytus.
I imagined him half-naked on the beach, his youthful body straight and strong. His hard muscles glistening with manly exertion, his eyes clear and innocent.
How easy it was for the poor woman to desire him in contrast to the insensitive old fart she was married to. My hand rested on my breast as I read on and on, growing intensely aware of the coming tragedy and also the fact that my underwear was getting rather disturbingly wet.
These meditations were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a giggle. A giggle that seemed to be coming from a section of the library which was closed up.
It was a room that contained supplies and also the few rare books that the library owned and so it was always locked. I placed the book I had been reading on the shelf and walked over to the room. I put my ear to the door and heard muffled whispers, and more giggling. It sounded like a young girl.
Cautiously I tried the lock. The door was open and I pushed it open more, just a few inches so that I could peek inside.
I suppressed a gasp of horror and amazement.
I saw Harry Smyth, the young man we had hired for the summer standing with his back braced against a shelf, his hands on the head of a young woman.
The young woman was kneeling between his legs and she was holding his exposed penis in her hands. Her tongue was gently licking up and down the length of it.
She was sniffing at his crotch and touching him most delicately, and she seemed to be enjoying the whole thing. Harry also was enjoying it. There was a big smile on his face and his eyes were sort of half-closed.
I held my breath. I suppose I should have walked in and broken the little scene up, but I couldn't move my feet. They were rooted to the spot and my eyes stared with torrid fascination at the couple.
I watched as the young girl's tongue flicked out across the head of Harry's prick. She began a slow, circular movement up and down the hard shaft.
And I was somewhat taken aback just by the size of the young man's organ. It seemed enormous to me in that erected state. It seemed terribly long, almost a foot long I estimated. But it was also very thick and a deep violet color.
I wasn't really that far away from the couple, but even so-well, I could make out the bulging veins on his cock. I could also get glimpses of a fine and heavy set of balls. The girl would take them in her hands and give them an affectionate squeeze and Harry seemed to like that.
Harry had dark hair on his head and his pubic hair though not especially thick was very dark also. I know that I should have made my presence known and stopped this breach of rules. Such a thing was not only unheard of in the library, but unconceived of. But instead I found that I was wishing that Harry had no clothes on at all, that I could view his body entirely. I wanted to know if there was hair on his chest and his legs like around his male parts, I wanted to see the muscles in his body shivering from the excitation the young woman was giving him.
I wanted to see more and I knew it!
The girl now pressed her lips over the head of Harry's prick, I watched her cheeks go concave and convex and I knew that she was sucking him off.
As she continued, he began to respond by shoving his hips forward a little, trying to get her to take more of his cock down into her throat. She didn't seem to mind, but began to bob her head back and forward, taking his cock inches at a time.
As she sucked and bobbed on Harry's organ, her hands pressed his balls and his thighs harder and harder. Harry moaned a little bit and pushed forward insistently.
There were no words between the girl and the boy, it was all movement and the aura of sex filled the room. It seemed deeper and more absorbing than the sunlight spilling in through the window. It spread through the room and it touched me, I almost felt the woman's mouth, I could almost imagine having a cock and having that cock sucked by a young female.
He pushed farther down into her mouth and although the girl gagged a little and her face seemed horribly distorted with the full weight and length of his prick, she tried her best to take all of him.
It was like she wanted to swallow him, she wanted all that he had and she wanted more. She loved the taste of his hard flesh and she sucked at him, as if the river of life were in his glans.
I held my breath and watched Harry wriggle his hips around and point his shaft deeply into her face. The girl had her eyes close as she vehemently sucked his cock. She pursed her lips tightly together and now there was no longer any teasing of the tongue and cheek, no, now there was only the hard driving force of his cock seeking release in her mouth.
Her hands held him tightly around his thighs. She was hanging on for all she was worth as the cock plunged in and out of her lips. Her blonde hair looked wet and tangled and I could see that sweat was dripping from young Harry's forehead.
Harry gave out a little cry and the tempo of his fucking into her mouth increased. His hands were on her shoulders, he pressed them hard against the flailing girl. He fucked her mouth at a mad pace and she again choked somewhat on the force of his cock.
It went on for some time like that, and she began to gulp frantically. I knew Harry was ejaculating in her mouth and that she was attempting to swallow his come.
She choked quite a bit as the still orgasming young man humped her face. But she was totally involved in what she was doing, she wanted every bit of his come. She wanted to swallow all that he had to give.
As his movements in her mouth and towards her mouth decreased, she didn't stop her actions one bit. She continued to suck his cock until it was growing limp in her mouth. She made a lot of noise in her sucking, like a piglet after its mother sow, she wanted all of him!
I watched the whole thing, after the limp prick slid out of her mouth, she licked him all over. She went underneath and licked at his balls, she took them into her mouth and swished them around. She licked his thighs and his stomach, and she cleaned him off all together.
Then she sat back on her haunches and smiled, licking her lips. She had such a big smile on her face it almost made me smile. How much she had enjoyed the taste of Harry. It made my mouth water to think about his come. I found myself wishing that I had been her. I wanted to be in her place, sucking his cock and tasting its precious juices.
Harry smiled back at the girl and tousled her hair. Then he lifted her up to her feet quickly. He kissed her on the mouth with fervor, and she returned the kiss.
My breath was still stuck in my throat, imagining the taste of Harry's come, the entanglement of their two tongues and the hard reality of warm embrace.
Harry's hands moved over the girl's body, he caressed her breasts, fondled the cheeks of her ass. He then began to ease her slacks off of her body. Slowly I saw the white flesh of the girl's ass appear.
Then Harry pulled her down onto the floor and pulled her pants off of her completely. The girl crooked her knees and lay back. I could see her girlish cunt glistening in the sunlight.
Harry moved in between her legs and immediately his hands fell on her mound of love and began to explore. The girl moaned with the first touch and arched her back slightly.
Harry rubbed her briskly there and then his fingers became more gentle, more expert. He rubbed her clitoris as if he were trying to make a fire out of sticks.
"Do you like that?" he asked her.
She moaned in the affirmative and then Harry stuck a finger up her twat. He stuck it way up, as far as it could go and began to work it all around in her warm, wet flesh.
The girl squirmed about on the floor. Harry's knees held her legs, wide apart as he stuck another finger up her twat and continued to whirl them around inside the girl.
It was almost more than I could stand.
Suddenly Harry removed his hands from her twat and sunk his head down into her crotch. From where I could stand I could almost see the whole thing. I saw how his tongue whipped out sharply and licked at the girl's clitoris. It moved up and down her cunt lips and darted into the darkness of her hole.
The girl groaned and wriggled and then she wrapped her legs around Harry's neck tightly. He began to eat her out in earnest sinking his whole being into her cunt and tasting all her flesh. He nibbled at her clitoris and I could even hear the loud slurping noises his mouth was making.
My thighs were tingling from what my eyes were witnessing. I felt jealous of the girl, wanted to feel that young, hot mouth on my twat, wanted to feel his tongue inside of me seeking out the juices of my womanhood.
Her legs held him like a vise as his head rooted around in her crotch. He bit her clitoris slightly and the girl cried out. I looked around me quickly and saw that the library was still practically empty, that no one would overhear them or see me watching at the door.
I wondered how long I had been standing there, five minutes, ten minutes, an hour? It seemed like days had gone by since I had first heard that giggle. My underpants felt so wet that it seemed as if I had had an accident, but I knew that that was not what it was.
I knew my cunt had responded to this sight by excreting a gallon of female fuck sauce. How I needed a skilled tongue, or better, a long, hard man cock.
I think I would have given up life itself at that moment for a prick. But I stayed my ground and continued to watch Harry slurping up the girl's flowing juices.
She was shaking like a leaf at that point, and I figured she was about to come. She cried out again and held Harry even tighter between her legs. He responded by attacking her cunt with a renewed fury, by sucking at her clitoris.
His hands held her buttocks and he held her lower body up to his face as if she were a plate of food. The girl wormed about underneath him, struggling to push her crotch deeper into his face, struggling desperately for completion of her body.
She was aching toward satisfaction, seeking the orgasm she had been climbing toward for so long. I, myself, felt on the bridge of coming, my cunt was alive with feeling, with ache and with longing.
My mouth was watering and yet felt dry. My thighs were trembling. Oh, how I needed a fuck. After watching this scene I couldn't bear the asceticism I had sought and accomplished.
Until today, I hadn't really thought of sex, but now I was confronted with this squirming pussy, that hungry mouth of Harry's, and I knew what I needed.
The girl arched her back against the floor. Her own hand flew to her mouth and she bit down on her fingers in passion. She humped her crotch against Harry's whirlwind mouth, making the desperate movement of a person in the throes of orgasm.
Her movements sought the rhythm of satisfaction, the lust of her body had taken control of her and now she was a mere animal, a mere animal seeking its natural course.
The violent orgasm took her consciousness and she went with it for a few marvelous seconds. Then her body began to relax under the still moving mouth of Harry.
She sighed a great sigh and leaned back against the floor. Harry continued to lick her and clean the female juice off of her thighs and her lower stomach.
When he was finished he stood up and offered her a hand up off the floor. She came up smiling, smiling the smile of satisfaction and delight.
The girl slipped her pants on and then they embraced again. I wondered if they were lovers and that they had been doing this a long time. If perhaps they met in the library a lot and gave each other pleasure.
My knees were weak from desire and need and I thought that perhaps I should have stopped them from what they were doing and by that stopped the feelings that were coursing through my veins. Stopped sexuality from awakening in my body, destroyed the monster before it grew to such overwhelming proportions.
It was too late, something had been started in me, something I had ignored and pasted down for such a long time. And now I could not deny it.
I realized that I had to leave my position at the door which very soon the lovers would be coming through that same door and if they found me there I would not be ready to face them. What would I say, would I accuse them, would I be able to do anything but stand and stare?
I hurried across the library and went into my office. I sat down at my desk and lit up a cigarette. For about a minute I did nothing but smoke, inhaling nothing but the blue smoke and my own frustration. Then I placed my hand on my crotch.
My hand worked underneath the material of my skirt and through the nylon of my panties and I found the wet resin of my desire.
The inside of my cunt felt burning hot to my fingers as I began to work them in and out slowly, seeking some sort of satisfaction. With my thumb I massaged my clitoris and that part of me tingled with the stimuli.
I hunched down on my seat and really went to work on my own cunt, fingering and stroking wildly, deeply. I stuck my fingers up inside of me as far as they could go, probing for the core of my being, the core of the ache.
I worked fast, thinking that surely it would only be a few seconds before I came, before I could cope with the rest of the world as a sane human being again. I rammed my fingers up into the slickness of my hot flesh.
I sought a fantasy, a fantasy to help me come. I thought of men, of groups of men, all beautiful, all young, all with hard pricks that were hard because of me and my naked body stretched out before them.
I thought of a young man mounting me on the beach, positioning his hard cock at the door to my cunt and then slamming it up to me, burying his cock into my cunt right up to his balls and then lying on top of me.
I thought of that hard imaginary cock filling the heat of my body, of the young man feeling for my breasts, caressing them feverishly, passionately. And then the fucking, he was fucking me, saying obscene things in my ear and ramming the hardness of his body deep into my body.
Oh yes, I was crying out, fuck me, fuck me. And he did, he did with all the energy in his body, with all the lust that had mustered in his prick. I responded, raising my body up to his blows, to his passionate onslaught, laughing in the sand as he fucked me silly....
There was a knock at my door. I cursed the world and quickly took my hands away from my cunt and smoothed down my skirt.
"Come in," I said nervously, lighting another cigarette, as I did so, smelling the juices of my own body.
Carol opened the door and walked in. Carol was a young lady employed by the library part time. We had become friends working together and although there was some disparity in our ages, we found it easy to talk. She was twenty-five to my thirty-five.
Carol was a lovely girl. Tall and tanned, with a short crop of brown curly hair and a vibrant healthy look about her. She was built like a dancer, as she had pursued that discipline up until the few months before when she had suffered an injury that threatened to eliminate that possibility for years, if not for good.
Carol looked at me somewhat strangely. I imagined that I saw her nostrils flared and I wondered if she could smell what I had been doing. My skin colored somewhat. I suppose I was flushed anyway, flushed with frustration, my uncompleted satisfaction.
"You don't look well, Jane," she said with concern, "Are you feeling ill?"
I shook my head, "No, darling, I suppose it's just the heat and the work."
"Yes, it would be lovely to be down at the beach today."
"Oh, I suppose the beaches are terribly crowded."
"Not at Cranberry Point." She said, smiling.
"So what are you doing here, then?"
"I came to ask you if you would like to go to the movies tomorrow. They change the billing then, you know? I thought perhaps we could have dinner and go, sort of make an evening out of it."
"Certainly," I said, "The two old spinsters having a night out. Me, I can understand, but a pretty, young girl like you, why they must be screaming for you."
"Who?"
"Why all the young, handsome, virile men down at the beach. With a body like yours...."
Carol didn't smile, "I told you that I only go to Cranberry Beach and there's hardly a soul there. The surf is too rough for most of the summer people, and there's no surfing because of the rocks."
"But if you went to the other beaches...."
"Jane, I really don't need all those young, virile men. I find their company tiresome, their conversation deadly."
"Why talk to them, then?"
"You mean I should just go to bed with them? Use them for a few minutes of satisfaction and then chuck them? Oh, no, I've done all that, I mean, I've known them all before. Jane, the fact is, I can't fuck somebody that I can't talk to. I really have to relate to a person mentally before I can relate to them physically."
"Well, surely, there must be some among the muscle boys that have brains."
"Listen, Jane, I hope you're joking about all this, if not, well, I just don't want to bother with them...."
I looked down into my lap, emotion clouded my eyes and I felt a salty tear run down my cheek.
Carol quickly crossed to me and put her arms around my shoulder, "I'm sorry, Jane, what did I say, I don't understand."
I looked up at her pretty face, tears making my eyes red.
"Do you know that the last time I had a man was when I was nineteen years old?"
She shook her head, "You told me, and you also told me what he did to you, he and his friends. I don't understand how you could want another man after that."
"But what about you? What happened that turned you against men?"
Carol sat down on my desk and sighed, "It's a long, disconnected story, darling. I was never abused like you, not physically. Most of my youth I had no time for dating or for boyfriends, I was too busy dancing. But there were a couple later on.
"The first man who had me was a dancing instructor. He was a lot older than me, we had been working together for years. After class one afternoon he asked me over to his apartment. The moment we got into the door he began to seduce me. I figured that I was old enough to lose my virginity and that he was probably as good as anyone to have it. So I went along with it. I let him fuck me. Oh, he thought he was great, a real accomplished lover he thought he was. I remember that he tongued my asshole, which I had never heard of.
"But I didn't enjoy it, Jane, I didn't feel a thing. Afterwards, he of course asked me if I liked it and I said yes. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
"But somehow, after that, after letting him fuck me, I couldn't respect him. He seemed a bungling fool to me. He wanted to fuck me again, but I put him off, I couldn't stand the thought of his naked body, of his cock."
"But surely you tried other men?"
"Yes, of course, later. I had young men and older men, and they were all disappointing to me. They were all fumbling and foolishness. There was only one that made me feel anything.
"His name was Ben. He was a dancer, too. A beautiful man, a wonderful dancer. We became friends and even took a week's vacation together. It was inevitable that we would end up in bed together. But he was a little different from the others in that I could talk to him.
"I told him that I had never had an orgasm from a man, that of course I could masturbate myself to satisfaction, but no cock had ever set me off. Unlike the others, he didn't say that that was because I had never known a real man, that he proposed to do what the others hadn't been able to do.
"He was very sympathetic and he listened intently to all that I had to say. Then he took my hand and told me a similar story, he said, that he had never been able to make love to a woman, that he was gay.
"I suppose that it was the unthreatening atmosphere that enabled us to enjoy each other's company so much. We came to like each other more and more until finally we did end up in bed together.
"And it was good, Jane, it was. But it was far more a spiritual relationship than a cock and a cunt. We stayed together for some time, and I suppose that I was in love with Ben. But when he met someone new, another man, he left me.
"I wasn't bitter about it, I knew where he was at and I guess I had suspected that that was exactly what would happen in time."
I shook my head, feeling more sorry for Carol than for myself. At that point, I felt very sorry for both of us. It seemed that neither of us had been able to have a satisfactory love affair.
But there were things that I didn't know about Carol, there were things that I didn't know about the world outside of my asexual domain. Things I was going to learn that summer.
CHAPTER THREE
After Carol and I had talked, I felt better in sort of a melancholy way. I suppose it was the old maxim of misery loving company. I went home to my apartment, stopping along the way to get some groceries.
My apartment then was a three-room affair in the attic of this old woman's Victorian house. It was a white house with black shutters, but it had a seedy look to it. The salt in the harsh winds that blew on a harbor town had caused the paint to crack and peel.
The gardens about the house were somewhat in disregard, weeds sprang up everywhere among the geraniums, and as I walked down the path to the back entrance way that led to my apartment, I saw that the grass needed cutting.
Evening was falling fast and a stiff wind was picking up around my ears. I was still depressed, but the thought of being alone in my apartment was comforting.
But once inside and once settled in for the night with a pile of books beside me, I felt restless as hell. It seemed incredible to me that I could go home and do as I had been doing for all those years after what had happened, after what I had seen.
I wondered about my voyeurism. Yes, I had been thrilled by the sight of Harry and the young girl, thrilled by the sight of his hard, beautiful cock and of her hungry mouth milking it. I had loved the sight of his head buried between her legs driving her to orgasm.
I thought about that, I thought about the conversation I had had with Carol later on, of my interupted masturbation. I considered masturbating then, but the thought was unappealing somehow. No, I needed more than fantasies and my own fingers, I wanted a hard young cock and I wanted it tonight, that night.
I paced around my apartment, trying to decide what to do, where could I go, who could I go see. I considered going to see Carol, but thought that we would only depress each other, frustrate each other more.
I went to my closet to look for something to wear, something sexy, something revealing. There was very little. I had been a recluse for all these years and my job in the library demanded no voluptuous looks.
I finally chose a pair of white, tight-fitting beach pants and an Indian silk shirt. It was the best I could do. I went to the bathroom then, and combed my hair, tried to fix up my looks with what little makeup I owned.
As I stepped out into the dark and windy night, I inhaled the lovely fragrance of the ocean, of the shore, of the flowering trees about me. I felt exhilarated, full of anticipation. My body was alive, physically alive after so many years. It was as if it had been taken out of cold storage finally and now was ready for use. I felt as if I could have run for miles, or climbed mountains or swum the channel. I was singing as I got into my car and turned on the ignition.
I was ready for love, for sex, just the result of having been able to make a move. To be able to admit to myself what I needed and then leave the safety of my rooms to go look for it.
I had to, I couldn't have stayed alone there. I had to go out in that beautiful windy night, if only for the movement of my body.
I didn't know where to go. I had never sought out such a thing. I supposed that one went to bars and I stopped at the first roadhouse that I passed. It was a somewhat dingy place with dark lighting and pictures of ships and whales above the bar.
It was full of men, there were only a few women in the whole place. As I walked in, most of the occupants turned to look at me. I immediately felt nervous, inhibited. I barely glanced at the people there. I forced myself to walk over to the bar and order a drink. The bartender leered at me as he set the drink down, but I ignored his stare.
Almost as soon as I had pressed the glass to my lips a man sat down next to me.
His elbow touched mine, "So what's your name, baby?" he said, looking me up and down as if I were a piece of steak.
I looked at him, he was a middle-aged man, not particularly handsome, but not bad looking, either, except for the lecherous grin on his face.
He grabbed my arm and asked my name again. He was joined by another man who walked to the other side of me and began to stroke my hair.
"Please take your hands off me." I said in a low voice.
"Oh, come on, baby," one of the men said, "You walk into a place like this, you're only looking for one thing, and I've got a nice big one."
"I said I wanted you to take your hands off me." I repeated.
The other man spoke up, as he did, he put his hand on my thighs, "Look, Honey, you want money, is that it? A nice piece like yourself ought to get paid, I suppose. I'm willing to give you twenty dollars for fifteen minutes of your cunt, how about it?"
"I just want you to get your hands off me," I yelled, jumping up from my seat. Anger flooded through me, I looked at these men, these disgusting pigs who thought they could have anything they wanted just by taking it. Just like Michael and his friends.
They wanted a woman, they took her, they forced her, they cared nothing about how she felt. I grabbed my handbag and rushed out of the bar, hearing their cruel laughter following behind me. I jumped into my car and pulled out of the parking lot.
I drove very fast for a while, full of anger and frustration. My heart was beating very fast, but eventually I calmed down and released my foot from the accelerator.
I drove for some time, not thinking about anything but the road and the engine in front of me. My lights shined on two young boys up ahead who were hitchhiking.
I slowed down and pulled up beside them. They opened the doors and one climbed in the back and then the other climbed in beside me.
"Thanks, Lady," the one in the front said, "It sure is hard to get a ride this time of night."
I looked at the one in the front, he was young, maybe" sixteen, very attractive. Streaked blonde hair hung over his forehead. He was wearing cut offs and I looked at his young, muscular thighs.
"Where are you heading?" I asked, turning on to the road.
The one in the front looked at the one in the back, "Well, we're going to town."
"Not much to do there at night." I said.
"Actually," he said, "We're going to see if we can find some one to cop some beer for us."
I thought about that, and then said, "I'll do it for you, I haven't got anything to do tonight myself."
"Shit," he said, "That's fantastic, my name is Pete, my friend's Sal."
I didn't tell them my name, but drove into town, talking about various things, asking them what they were doing that summer and where they lived. It seemed they were only there for two weeks and that they had finally gotten out of the sight of their parents to look for a little action.
I decided to play it by ear, but my mind was working a mile a minute.
After I returned from the package store with not only two sixpacks of beer, but a bottle of wine, they asked me if I would drive them down to a secluded beach. I remembered what Carol had told me about Cranberry Beach and drove straight to it.
When we arrived, I asked them if they would mind if I joined them for a few minutes, they said not at all. We walked down the path to the beach. One of them had a blanket and spread it out on the sand.
We sat down and began to drink the beer.
There was almost a full moon that night and we could see each other very well. They were both young and attractive, and I was horny. I tried to think of some way to broach the subject as we drank more beer. I went very easy on the booze, but those two were drinking like they had just returned from the desert. I suspected that at their tender ages, they probably had low tolerance for liquor.
I must have been right, because they became giddy very quickly.
"It feels so good down here," I started, "I think I'll just take off my clothes."
They stared at me, but I whipped off my shirt. My full breasts swung in the night air. Their mouths dropped below their jaws. I began to fondle my breasts a little, looking at them all the time.
In the moonlight I looked at one's groin and imagined I saw a rather hard bulge there.
"Gee, Lady," Sal said, "Aren't you cold?"
"No, not at all, in fact I'm terribly hot." Do you want to feel how hot I am?" I said moving closer. A tentative hand reached for my tit and then touched it and then snapped away, as if the hand had been burned or something.
"Don't be afraid," I crooned, "I won't hurt you. After all, there are two of you and only one of me."
Pete moved closer to me and cupped my tits with his hands, then be began to massage and caress them gently. He pushed me down on my back.
I relaxed on the blanket. Now that I had started this scene, I felt like I could relax and enjoy it. These youngsters were anxious enough to feel my tits, to explore the whole of my body. Their breathing was caught in their throats already.
The hands of the one boy moved up and down and across my breasts, down under my armpits and down to my stomach. He was soon joined by the other boy and the two of them worked on me as if I were a piece of dough.
They seemed content with feeling my flesh, or at least they seemed embarrassed to try anything else. But my flesh was tingling from the contact of their hands and the sounds of their breathing. I wanted more of that treatment. I wanted more passion, more of their bodies. I wanted to see their young cocks hard as stone and before my eyes.
I sat up and they moved away from me slightly. I got up to kneeling position and immediately went to work on the closest boy. I began to unbutton his pants. He trembled under my touch, but he didn't move. He stood firm as I worked with the material, my hands aching for the swelling of his young cock.
I heard the surf in my ears, the surf pounding on the shore and wasn't it just like the pounding of my desire in my head. The flash of need, the wave that seeks fulfillment on the sand.
How I lusted for these two young men, and they had no idea what the scope of my desire was. I did have for a moment, slight bewilderment with myself. What was I doing down here on the beach with children who could be my own children? It seemed insane, but no more insane than the ocean wrapping itself around the coastline, no more insane than the wind whipping through the dune grass. It was a natural force in me, in them, in all things of the earth. Wild and blind passion, drive.
My fingers touched the warm flesh of the one young man, I felt his hard cock and bent forward to kiss it tenderly with my mouth. It tasted of salt and sand and I licked upwards on him, tasting the earth and my own desire. And he trembled underneath his lips, his youth throbbing underneath my tongue.
So gently I did it, as if I were at an altar, as if I were kissing a holy ring, as if I were to receive a blessing underneath his firm young thighs.
But I felt brave, brazen, in control of the situation. I licked deeply down into his crotch and underneath the growing hardness of his youthful cock to kiss the pliant flesh of his balls. They seemed so delicious to me, so wonderfully soft and capable. I took one of the balls into my mouth and whirled it around in my cheeks. Like it was a large marble.
The other boy was just watching, his finger in his mouth. I took my face out of his friend's crotch and pulled him over next to him. They stood together like Siamese twins and I quickly stripped the other boy of his pants and his young cock was exposed to the raging elements of the landscape also.
What a sight that was, as I sat back on my haunches to examine my handiwork. I was filled with desire, at that moment wishing that I could be more than just one woman, wishing that I could experience an endless amount of orgasms with those two young men.
In a fury I pulled them together and went for the nearest cock with my mouth. I tore into the hard, young flesh and slurped with all my might. The poor boys tried to back away from me and I felt the madness pass from my brain.
No, no, that wasn't the way, I had to approach this subject gently, I didn't want to frighten them.
No, I wanted to give them more pleasure than they had ever conceived of in their wildest masturbatory dreams. But it had to be smooth, gentle, so that they could give me all the pleasure that I needed. Undoubtedly I would have to teach them a lot. They seemed to be virgins. I decided to ask.
"Are you both virgins?" I asked, looking up into their faces and pushing my hair from out of my eyes.
They told me that they weren't really virgins, that they had never really put their cocks into a cunt, but had been jerked off by girls and that they had even been sucked off.
I couldn't help but laugh. Here, to my very own self, I had the ultimate pleasure of initiation. Two handsome youngsters who had never felt their cocks sunk into cunt flesh. I could have done a dance of joy, but instead I grabbed a hold of each of their cocks and began to jerk them off.
"What would you two like to do to me?" I asked very sexily.
They looked at each other and then down at me. "I guess we want to lay you." One of them said.
"Say it louder, what do you want to do to me?"
"We want to fuck you!"
"That's better," I said, "How do you want to do it?"
"We want to stick our hard cocks up you and fuck the shit out of you."
I laughed and pulled harder on their hard little cocks. Oh, they weren't all that little. They were quite impressive for boys their ages, but they were so pretty-looking. They looked like greek statues of boys, so well-formed, so clean and uncorrupted-looking.
But they were burning for me. They wanted it so bad. I lay down onto the blanket and spread my legs wide. The one of them came over me, rather shyly, but nevertheless with great intent. My eyes were wide open as he mounted me, positioning his thighs over my body, lowering himself, full weight across me. I took him into my arms as if he were my son, full of love, compassion, and lust.
Because I did lust for him, and for his friend, too. The ache in my body would be fulfilled by them, by both of them, I would not let them go until it was a satisfied memory of the night on the beach. They would be gone from me forever, but I would remember them.
The young man's hands found my mons and awkwardly massaged me, touching my cunt and rubbing it hard. They, the boy's hands, were totally untutored.
"Touch my clitoris, there that's it." I whispered into his ear, "Do it gently now, rub it with your fingers and I will respond to you."
And I continued to instruct him and tell him about my body, but soon he could not wait any longer for that thing that he had been waiting all his life for. His hand clutched at me so.
With my hand I positioned his cock at the entrance to my cunt, placing it directly in and waiting for his first thrust.
It came directly, as the young man thrust forward with his hips and his cock began to push upward into my cunt. I moved my body forward trying to suck all of his eager cock into me.
It felt so wonderful. After all, I had waited longer for this than he had. Well, maybe not, I had not always longed for this. There had been quite a few years when I hadn't thought at all about sex. That was because it had occurred to me that only men my age would be available, but now I knew a younger man could satisfy my needs. Perhaps only a younger man, somewhat inept though they were, because they were totally unspoiled by their egos by having all the sex they wanted. They were perfect and I could be the teacher. I could dominate their fantasies, could bring them to my ways:
It seemed so perfect this way as the young man thrust in and out of me, fucking me to the core of my being, curling his toes and pressing as much of his body as he could into my sex. I could feel his soft balls bouncing off my asshole. He sought my mouth and wanted to kiss me. I returned his kiss wetly, sucking his tongue into my mouth as the two of us writhed and fucked on the beach.
Desire racked my body, the feeling of his cock plunging into the recesses of my body was driving me wild. It was so good, so good, I thought that I would tear the boy apart in my passion. I moaned under him and tossed my head fitfully.
Orgasm came up from the ground and spread through me. It touched my cunt, it blasted through my veins, my head pounded with a screaming need. The boy began to fuck harder, faster, and I screamed in my desire. I screamed and we went off together, clutching each other's body and fucking to beat the band.
As the orgasms subsided, I wanted him to stay where he was, resting with a still hard cock in my cunt. But the other boy whom I had forgotten about, was anxious to have a crack at me.
His friend dismounted, his cock plopping out of me wetly, our mutual juices full of sand on my thighs.
The other boy came towards me immediately and squatted down beside me. Then, moving on top of me, I felt the weight of him immediately resting on my flesh, my heaving body.
He didn't fool around with my cunt with his hands like his friend had, oh, no. He couldn't wait. He positioned his cock himself and pushed it up to the hilt with one fucking thrust.
I sighed as the breath was knocked out of me. The boy was mad with lust, he fucked me hard immediately, he pounded his cock into my warm flesh.
I found it quite exciting though. His youthful desire was a real turn-on and the idea that he had been watching me fuck his friend must have stimulated him a great deal, I moved upward to take in the hard cock thrusts of his body.
He moaned into my ear and fucked away. His young cock slid in and out of me rhythmically. His hands felt for my breasts, and he massaged them as if he were looking for something there. I couldn't stand it. It was so wonderfully sensual, so very animalistic. I felt totally flesh, my mind a stupid amenity.
"Oh, yes, you fuck so well, fuck me, fuck me," I yelled into his ear. And the boy responded by starting to come inside of me. He broke h is rhythm and tried to shove even further into my cunt.
I arched my back and felt another orgasm coming home to me. It was marvelous the way he fucked me, and I wanted that orgasm to last longer than it did. I felt his hot come filling the cavity of me, and I arched up into his pelvis trying to take it all into my body. He trembled on top of me and shuddered, but with one last thrust I knew he had finished with me for a time.
Even as the young man's body covered mine, I felt the night winds around my bare shoulders and thighs, my nakedness exposed to the salty winds so harsh. I shifted my position on the blanket.
Now both of the young men were near me, covering me. The three of us huddled together for warmth and sensuality. It felt beautiful, even poetic. We caressed each other tenderly and spoke nothing at all. I would often bend and kiss their mouths and touch their hair. My hands would fondle their cocks and their balls and I made little remarks on their bodies to them.
It wasn't awfully long before they both had erections again, and I was afforded another opportunity to satisfy them, and they to satisfy me. The three of us made love on the beach over and over again.
But eventually they began to worry about what their parents would be thinking, so we gathered up our clothes and headed back to the car. The three of us, arm-in-arm back to the car.
One of the boys asked if he could drive and I agreed. It was a mad careening ride back to town, with me sitting in the middle of the two young men laughing and feeling their bodies. I felt like a teenager again. It was better than I had felt in many years, it was like being alive, physically alive. Suddenly I felt like I had a young woman's body, one that required satisfaction, that oozed sexuality.
The desk at the library seemed very far away to me, although a picture of Harry flitted through my mind. Yes, Harry, Harry was older than these boys certainly, but not much older. I felt a tug at my insides at the thought of that beautiful young boy. I desired him so, I realized that, I desired Harry. It didn't seem quite so insane to me at that point, having just seduced two boys younger than he.
I took Pete and Sal to the road on which their parents had rented a cottage. We all kissed good-bye, it was very nice and very friendly and there didn't seem to be strained feelings coming from anyone.
Of course we all knew that they would never see me again, that I was just an incident on a summer night, on a windy beach. I thought that maybe when they got back home they would tell their friends about me and maybe not without a bit of bravado and exaggeration. So be it, I thought, they had given me pleasure.
A whole new world had been opened up to me, I wondered if perhaps I wasn't mad. Or if I was trying to recapture a youthful experience that I had set aside, that I had been torn from. That now I was trying to return to my youth by loving these young boys.
By loving Harry. Yes, it was some kind of love I felt for him. Although at that point, I would have called it merely a sexual fascination, an obsession with his lovely, lithe body. I could almost picture the hardness of his cock before my eyes.
As I drove home I fantasized about having him alone to myself, of seducing him, of having his prick working in and out of my cunt, of feeling his young, strong body moving over mine.
I thought of where and how it would happen, that he would fall hopelessly in love with me and perhaps we would go away together someplace. I knew that it was merely a fantasy and that it could never happen that way.
How was I to compete with the lovely young girls with their golden looks and their sleazy bodies. And if society was to find out my intentions, I would be an anathema, a Phaedra.
I parked my car and climbed the backstairs to my rooms. When I got upstairs, I went directly to the bathroom and faced myself in the mirror. My hair was wild and tangled, my clothing was wrinkled and damp-looking. But how well I looked! My skin was flushed with excitement and satisfaction, with discovery.
I looked younger, much younger. I touched my own body and my skin crawled even from that contact. How soft my skin felt, how desirable I felt. How desirable I wanted to be for Harry.
I was overwhelmed by a sensation of sudden hope, of awakening life, of possibility.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day I woke up very early without the usual benefit of my alarm clock. The day was beautiful, rich with sunlight and promise. I jumped out from the covers where I had slept naked for the first time in over ten years. I went to the bathroom to confront the face I had seen last night. I went through my usually careless toilet with great care and building excitement. I was looking forward to going to work. I almost laughed at that thought.
I couldn't eat breakfast, I was too anxious to begin the day, so I climbed into my car and went to work. I unlocked the door and went into my office. I fixed some coffee and lit a cigarette. I waited for Harry to arrive.
But when he arrived finally, I found myself acting the same way I always had toward him. As if I didn't care a bit for him. He treated me with respect, since I was the employer, basically, and he the employee and it was all very Miss Andrews and Mr. Smyth and I felt like an ass.
I watched Harry all that day out of the corner of my eye. He seemed more attractive to me all the time, I watched the way he moved, the way he talked, every time he smiled it hurt me with the beauty of his mouth and his eyes lighting up.
And the young girls that came in, didn't they notice those things too. Didn't they seek out his attentions and his smile, and he responded to them, every one of them, even the ones that weren't so pretty. He flirted with them sometimes, taking their hands or touching them in some subtle way.
And I thought that I would go mad. I was feeling terribly jealous of all those young women, of their youth and their beauty and their position. How I would have liked to have been able to exchange places with just one of them for a few minutes it would take to be able to flirt back with Harry.
I used every opportunity that came up to talk to him about this or that unimportant thing. He didn't seem to think it was that strange, though, and went about his job pretty much the same, except that he did spend so much time communicating with the young women. I suppose that I had just never cared enough to notice before.
Finally it was just all too much. I thought to myself that I would have to do something or else life would become unbearable. I would talk to him, maybe I would confront him with what I had seen the day before, maybe he would leave then.
I hesitated, did I really want him to leave? Yes and no. I wanted my sanity back and I knew that as long as Harry was there I would be a madwoman. I also thought that I had no hope of gaining his affections, the scene I had enjoyed with the two young men the night before had been quite another story. They were people that I would never see again, so indulging in sexual relations with them was no problem. They could relate to me on that level and I to them. But Harry, didn't I see Harry almost every day?
On a flush of courage and determination I approached him.
"Harry," I said, touching his arm, "I'd like to speak with you in my office if you have a moment."
His gaze was friendly, beautiful. "Sure, Miss Andrews."
He followed me to my office and I closed the door behind him, but I didn't lock it. What would be the purpose of that?
I sat down and took a cigarette from my pack, I offered one to him and he took it with thanks.
"Sit down, Harry," I said, looking directly into his eyes, "I wanted to talk to you about your job."
"Yes, Miss Andrews," he said, leaning across the desk toward me.
"Do you like your job, Harry?"
"Oh, yes, I really do. Why? Haven't I been doing a satisfactory job?"
"Well, Harry, I've found your work satisfactory up until this time, but it does seem to me that you spend an awful lot of your time flirting with young women that come in to use the facilities."
Harry shrugged, "One has to be friendly, Miss Andrews, I had no idea that it was flirtation."
There are limits to friendliness in a public library, Harry."
"I don't know what you mean," he said, coloring.
"If you think really hard about what your activities were yesterday, I think that you'll understand what I'm talking about, young man."
Harry jumped up from his seat and came over to stand next to me. "I don't get you."
"What were you doing in that supply room yesterday Harry?"
His mouth dropped to his jaw, "Oh, God," he said, "I wasn't doing anything, just talking."
"Don't bother lying to me, Harry, I saw everything."
"You mean you saw me....?"
I shook my head, "I saw you getting sucked off Harry, and I saw you eating out the young lady."
He looked shocked at my word usage. But I think he was more shocked at the fact that I had seen what they had done. I could practically hear his heart racing. I really felt sorry for him, he was scared shitless, figured that he had just lost his job, maybe even worse.
But he stood his ground, he looked me squarely in the face. "What are you going to do about that?"
"Who was the young lady?"
"I don't know," he said, "And if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."
I nodded to him and his sense of honor. What a charming young man he was, how much I wanted him. "You know, of course, that I will have to fire you?"
"I really need this job," Harry said, still standing next to me.
"I think there are other jobs, young man." I stood up, finding that he was a good three inches taller than me.
"I really need this job, Miss Andrews," he said intensely.
"How much do you need this job, Harry?" I said, my voice becoming hoarse and weak.
"I need it real bad," he said, this time smiling a little.
I couldn't control myself, my hand reached out and brushed the front of his pants. "Do you need it this much?"
He smiled at me, "You're a real pretty lady, Miss Andrews, I'd have no trouble whatsoever needing it that much."
And then he didn't say anything else, he took me in his arms and held me really tight and found my lips and kissed me very hard. I sighed; I sighed with relief on his shoulder. For that moment at least, I had the wonderful feeling of Harry holding me in his arms, the wonderful feeling of his lips on mine.
His tongue sought my tongue and he sucked my mouth into his. My body felt like wet cotton, my knees seemed to be made of jelly. His hands began to search my body. One of his hands rested on my breasts and he fondled my tits roughly, but very nice. He wasn't inexperienced, obviously, although he was pretty young. He knew what to do. He touched me, reaching under the thin material of my blouse and into my bra and fondling my flesh. He touched my nipple and I thought I would die from desire for him.
I cried out a little.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
"Nothing, nothing," I whispered back, "Only, it feels so good, so good."
And he continued to fondle my tits and kiss me, exploring my mouth with his tongue, making my heart beat very fast. I kissed him back with passion equal or superior to his, wanting to fill his mouth with my mouth, wanting to have him so bad.
Every inch of my flesh was crying out for his young body. My brain was wild with need and desire for him, for his passion, for his male strength.
I felt for his crotch, for the front of his pants and found there a wonderfully hard bulge, his young cock was responding to our contact, to the melting of our two bodies together. Oh, I wanted to see his cock again, his erection, and this time it would be for me.
His hand left my breast, slid down my stomach and rested between my legs. He felt up underneath my skirt and into my underpants. His hand felt rough and soft at the same time, it felt very curious, very intense, very anxious to find the seat of my pleasure. He touched my clitoris and rubbed it gently, with fine strokes. Shivers of lust and desire spread throughout my groin, flames of arching need tickled my insides, made me spread my legs further and urge on the explorations of his fingers.
He stuck one finger up my cunt, which was already oozing liquid love, creamy indication of my need, of my want for him. His finger pried at my opening and gently made its way up into my warmth.
I cried out a little then, too. It felt so wonderful as he began to fingerfuck me, sticking his finger in and out and massaging my clitoris with his thumb at the same time. Every muscle in my body reacted with longing, with an urge toward completion.
He stuck another finger up into my flesh and now two fingers threaded in and out of my cunt, going faster and faster all the time. I pressed the bulge in his groin, and soon began to fumble with his buttons and the zipper on his pants. I wanted to feel the hardness of him I wanted to feel the softness of his balls and the hardness of his cock. I remembered how beautiful that cock had looked, how shocked I had been at first, but now how much I wanted him.
I got his zipper down and soon my hand was wrapped around his prick. He wriggled a little and fingerfucked me harder, breaking the rhythm of it at first.
He felt wonderful needless to say. His hard cock seemed very long and wide for a boy his age. I reached down for his balls and they too seemed particularly well put together for his youth. An Adonis that's what he was. I imagined that I was Venus, that this was our cave where we would live together and make love. Venus was older than Adonis, wasn't she?
His free hand went up into my hair and he removed the pins that held it up. My auburn hair tumbled down past my shoulders. Again I had the strange feeling of being young, of being that age I had missed out on, the age that I had hid through in books and in determination to grow old before my time and not be hurt by the desires of my body.
But it was a fine feeling, a strong feeling. My blouse was open and now my bra was unhitched and my large breasts were tumbled free in the air of my office. My skirt was hiked up to my thighs where Harry's hand was embedded.
My hand stroked his boyish prick rapidly, with rhythm. I felt the arch of his erection. Like a bow it was, like Cupid's bow was the hard insistence of his erect cock. His flesh so warm and strong. The odor of his manhood rose up to my nostrils and I felt totally engrossed in the aura of fleshy experience.
His fingers threaded through my hair and found my ears, he made circles with one finger all about inside my ear and that further excited my body, made me move toward him, shoving my pelvis into his, seeking union, seeking satisfaction.
We both grew very excited then, rubbing our bodies together and caressing each other's sexual organs frantically, coming to that moment of release which would make us one in madness.
And it came to me through his fingers, through the rhythmic touch of them on my cunt walls and brushing my clitoris.
I began to whimper and I screwed my eyes up very tight as my orgasm flooded the secret places of my body, as I shook with the intensity of reaching desire. I went up to the pinnacle, riding his fingers, humping his hand, flooding myself with fulfilling movement. I arched onto him and he shoved his fingers very hard up into my body.
And he, too, began to move in my hands, his throbbing cock sliding back and forth, forcing my hand back into the rhythm I had lost temporarily as I had come. He made slight noises with his mouth for a while and then sought my lips again, to suck my tongue and crush my mouth against his.
His hot come flooded into my fingers, oozed into my hand. It was creamy and warm and spurted in what seemed an incredible amount from his cock.
He pushed me back down into the chair as his fingers were removed from my cunt. He opened my shirt wide and his head came down into my breast. His mouth found a nipple and he began to suck me there very hard.
He licked and sucked at the nipple. His tongue flew around it like feathers. I felt very nice, very weak, very satisfied. But flickers of desire haunted my body still. He sucked my nipple for what seemed like a long time, for long minutes and long licks.
I spread my legs out and again he found my hot cunt which was all wet from secreted juices. He caressed me there very gently.
My hand wandered over his body, feeling the muscles of him, the curves and the creases, the bones that protruded here and there. I looked down at the top of his head, the line of his back.
I wanted more than just a fingerfuck. I wanted to spread my legs for him and have his cock in me.
"Harry," I whispered, "Please, let's fuck. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your hard prick in my cunt."
He sat up and looked at me, his hand still resting on my wet cunt. "I'd like that, too. But not here, not in the library, not when we have to hurry. We'll go some place after work where we can take our time."
"Yes," I said breathlessly, "You can come to my house and spend the night. We can go there. No one will bother us."
And then it occurred to me that all that had just passed between us, all that had been done with the door unlocked, with the library practically unattended. Anyone could have walked in on us, and then ... it was a horrible thought, now that I was reclaiming my sanity.
"All right, Harry, we had better go back to work now."
We straightened ourselves up and then went back outside. I still felt weak in the knees and I was so very conscious of having a cunt. I could think of nothing all day long except Harry and his body, of Harry's cock. How very soon it would be that I would have the experience of fucking Harry, of lying in bed with him naked.
It was a very stimulating thought that I carried with me. I was like a school girl. My fantasies all came back to me. I thought about me and Harry together and in these fantasies, I imagined that I was a young girl. I imagined that I was his age, that I had not all those years between us, all that dust on my bookjacket.
I dreamed of us walking through fields and lying in the grass of his breathless attentions. I dreamed of losing my virginity to him on a moonlit night.
Of course all these thoughts were absurd. I knew very well who I was, and what my position was in the community. But I had no one, no one who cared for me. I also realized that Harry did not care about me either. I was just a vehicle that would prevent him from losing the job that he needed. How long could it possibly last?
I knew I was trembling on the brink of a dangerous situation. That I was preparing myself for not only pleasure but for pain, too. For my eventual betrayal again.
How strange it was to be so elated with the present and at the same time so fearful of the future. I was, after all, no fool. I knew exactly what I was letting myself into. I knew that I was playing with fire, but I couldn't help it. I needed Harry Smyth. I needed his young body, his probing cock, his hands on my breasts.
I couldn't stop the longing of my body for him.
Carol interrupted my meditations. I felt her soft hand on my arm. "Hey, Jane, what's on your mind?"
I looked at her, "What?"
"You're really spaced out today, is there something wrong?"
"No, love," I said, smiling, "Not that I know of.
"Good, that means we're going to the movies tonight, doesn't it?"
The memory of my promise to Carol stung me. "Oh, damn, Carol, I had forgotten all about that." I searched my mind for something to tell her, some excuse that would get me out of going to the movies and get Harry into my bed.
"Listen Carol, would you be terribly angry with me if I begged out?" I looked down at my shoes.
"No, of course not, honey, but do you mind if I ask why you changed your mind?"
"No. I sort of have a date."
"Yes, well, you had a date with me tonight, Jane."
"But, Carol, you must understand, a date with a man, after our talk the other day .,. ."
"Even so ... okay, well, it's not up to me to criticize you, I just thought that we were friends."
"Shit," I said a little too loud, "of course we're friends, we can go to the movies anytime, we see each other practically every day ... I don't think you should be angry with me."
Carol put her arm around me, "God, for an older woman, you sure are dumb, Jane. You've got a lot to learn about men. For one thing, they always like you better if you put them off a little. For another thing, you should never put off your friends because some guy crooks his finger at you."
"But Carol, it's been so long...."
"So what does it matter if it waits another day? But that besides the point, go and have fun and don't do anything that I wouldn't do."
I didn't have a chance to say anything else to Carol because she left me then. I couldn't help but think about the things that she had said. There seemed to be logic in what she said. But passion, passion knows no logic like that. It only knows the force of eros driving you to drop everything and do anything to be with the object of your passion.
At times during the rest of the day I would pass Harry and he would wink at me or touch me. I tried not to notice him flirting with the pretty young things. After all, I would have him tonight to myself. There would be only me and Harry. Carol would not be there and no pretty strangers. I would live for that, for this night that was coming to me and then after that, maybe I would die.
But that was only a brief thought that I had. The rest of it was all sweet imagination. Sweet imagination that worked directly on my cunt. My underwear was wet all day long.
It was so intense that I finally went into the bathroom and sat down on the seat. I spread my legs and both of my hands wandered down between my legs. I caressed my own thighs, I pretended that they were Harry's hands. I touched my own clitoris, the hard little point of desire. My fingers lightly skipped up and down along the lips of my cunt and flitted into the dark opening to my womanhood.
Creases of desire, thoughts of hard men flooded to me. I thought of Harry, but I thought of other men, too. I thought of the two young men on the beach. I thought of the wretched old men who had been in the bar. I thought of how their rough hands would be, reaching for my soft flesh, grabbing at my cunt.
The harsh weight of their desire, their filthy minds and their ugly old bodies. And then I would think about the young men, the clean, the youthful passion. That was what I needed that was what I wanted. None of those old farts for me. Oh, no, wasn't I a teenager in my body?
I was practically a virgin, a ravished virgin perhaps. But that was so many years ago. And that would never happen again. No, I wouldn't let it. I would be loved by young men and I would love young men. I knew that I would have to change my way of living. I would have to work on being prettier, on looking younger.
My finger slid up into the dark warmth of my cunt. I searched my flesh out, feeling for the recesses of desire, of want. Oh, how I wanted Harry's hard cock pushing up into my womb.
Soon, soon, I told myself as shivers of stimulation pricked my skin. As goose bumps rose on my flesh. I touched myself very hard and closed my eyes. I was thinking sex and nothing else, that was all I could think of.
I was mad perhaps, but it felt good, stroking my own cunt, feeling my own juices oozing out of my vagina. Feeling the sensitivity of my clitoris, the curling darkness of my pubic hair, the crawling of my thigh flesh. Even the touch of my own hands was quite enough to stimulate me completely.
I leaned back against the wall and let my head flood with fantasies that seemed to originate in my cunt.
CHAPTER FIVE
We, me and Harry that was, had planned to reconnoiter at my car that was parked behind the library. As I locked the door to the place, holding the odds and ends of my life in my hands and proceeding to the car, I felt for a moment a panic inside of me. What if he wasn't there?
What if he had decided that I was repulsive, a fool, and he had left. Or what if he had forgotten? It didn't matter, whatever the reason could be, I knew that if he weren't there that I would not be able to deal with it.
I wouldn't know what to do.
I tried to prepare myself for the unexpected as I walked around the building. How relieved I was to see Harry leaning against the car smoking a cigarette, smiling up at the sun. My heart quickened but I prevented my legs from running to him. How lovely he looked to me, all youth and beauty, his fine form reclined against the steel of my car.
I smiled at him, feeling a little awkward, but nevertheless, terribly excited. We got into my car and were pretty much silent all the way to my house. Once there, we quietly climbed the steps to my apartment.
I was beginning to feel somewhat depressed about the whole thing. Maybe reason was slipping back into my consciousness. I asked myself just exactly what I was doing, trying to think of some way to stop it before it was too late.
In a flash I realized that it was already too late. About fifteen years too late. And the idea of just telling Harry to leave, that I did not want him there and then finding myself all alone again was a horrible one.
We sat at the kitchen table and talked for a few minutes. I offered him dinner and he accepted. I tried to concentrate on fixing the food, but my mind vacillated. What the hell was the problem, was this really such a big deal? After all, he was male and I was female, why couldn't it be as simple as that?
Why couldn't it be as simple as the incident on the beach with the two other young men, younger than Harry even. I had had no remorse about that. But of course it had been a one-shot thing, a once in a lifetime contact with two young men that I would never see again. Practically anonymous and terribly terminal.
Harry was something else altogether and I knew it. Oh, maybe not to Harry. I wondered what he thought of all this. I wondered if he just looked at it as a situation he would have to bodily deal with. It was all so depressing, how I wished that I could just stop thinking and enjoy myself for whatever time was allotted to this union.
"So," said Harry, swallowing, "Do you have anything to drink, here?"
I looked at him, "I have some vodka I think, and some sherry."
"Where is it?"
I pointed to the cabinet where I kept the little booze I owned and Harry rose to get at it. He made us a couple of drinks. I was glad, I needed the liquid courage and I took a big drink of vodka.
"You're really beautiful, Jane Andrews," he said, and for some reason it sounded silly coming from him. , "You don't mean that, Harry." I said, staring into his eyes.
"Sure I mean it. You're worried about your age so much that you don't even realize what you got. I've never seen hair the color you got, and so smooth. And those green eyes of yours are just out of sight. How come you never got married or anything like that?"
I shrugged. "Never met anybody."
Harry gestured toward the window, "Of course you never met anybody living in a town like this ... but if you lived in New York or Boston...."
"I like it here, Harry, I like the quiet life, even if it does get a little lonely."
"Not me, oh no, I'm going to leave this place as soon as I have the money, go some place exciting."
How young he sounded to me as he went on talking, expectations all high, all great. But why shouldn't he believe in the world and what it had to offer? He had never been betrayed by it. And maybe he never would, maybe he had enough confidence in himself and enough native wit to survive out there. He was certainly handsome enough.
"Where do your parents live, Harry?" I asked.
"Only got a father at this point. He's like you, a real solitary person. He lives out on Cranberry point surrounded by nothing but beach grass and deserted fishing boats and maybe a sea bird or two."
"It sounds beautiful. And you live there with him?"
"No, I live with my Aunt and Uncle in town."
"Don't you get along with your father?"
"Oh we get along fine, but it's too isolated out there in the shadow of the lighthouse. I would rather be in town, close to my friends and my job. I usually go out to visit him a couple times a month."
"So, you plan to leave town and go to the big city," I said that perhaps with just a little too much cynicism.
"Yeah, but not cold. No, I'll have something to go to when I leave. A job or something."
The boy was no fool. Oh, no, he was apparently quite aware of the pitfalls. He was determined to succeed, and once again I thought about this relationship that I was about to embark on and of the motives behind his acquiescence.
I looked at him and stood up, "Listen Harry, I think I'm making a mistake, I think maybe you're making a mistake, too. I know that you're just going along with this thing because your afraid of losing your job ... Well, you can just forget about it, you won't lose your job, I'll never say a word to anyone. It will be our secret and we'll be friends."
Harry stood up suddenly. "You must think I'm a real prick, a real little prick."
"No Harry," I said, a little startled, "I just think I trapped you into something that...."
"Look, Jane Andrews, get this straight, if you had been a real old dog putting it to me I would have laughed in your face and told you to go fuck yourself. The job is important, but I'm not crazy enough about it to fuck an old bag. You are one fine-looking woman. I don't care how old you are. The moment I met you, I thought, shit, what beautiful hair and eyes, what a great body, what nice tits. I can't think of one girl my age who looks as good as you do. And what's more, you're smart and you're nice and you're not silly the way most young chicks are. I would never have dreamed I would get this chance, the chance to make love to you. And don't think I didn't fantacize about it. Lots oi times, seeing that nice round ass of yours bent over I nearly burst my pants. Shit, I said to myself, what would a woman like that be interested in a punk kid like me for?"
I was blushing with happiness, I stepped forward and embraced Harry. It was wonderful, much better than the unsure clasp in my office earlier, because he had said all those nice things. I believed him, too. I knew that he was telling the truth. He really did find me attractive. I wound my arms around his neck tightly and his arms were around my waist. Our mouths met in a hard kiss and immediately his tongue sought out the wetness of my mouth. He touched my tongue, my cheeks, my gums, ran his hard tongue over my teeth.
I was thrilled to my very toes. My insides were awash in passion and desire and happiness. I could have danced around the room for the joy of his speech, for the feeling that I now knew was mutual.
I loved him at that moment. I loved him for making me feel like a beautiful, worthwhile woman, for making me aware that I had a cunt, and a desirable one at that.
His hands wandered down the length of my back and rested for a moment on my firm buttocks. Yes, suddenly my ass felt nice to me, just right, not too small or too fat. Just right, just round and firm enough to make me a desirable woman.
His mouth felt so good to me, so tasty, so delicious. His breath warm and clean. I sucked on his tongue, feeling the roughness and the smoothness of it at the same time, responding in kind to the oral contact of our mouths. Hungrily I ate at his mouth, tasting his soft lips, his firm lips. My mouth filled with saliva, as did his and our spit mingled together.
My eyes were shut tightly, liking the feeling of his hands wandering over the flesh of my ass. One hand crept down between my legs and tightly pressed at my cunt underneath the material of my slacks. My female juices were flowing strongly already.
I touched him, touched him as much as I could. I felt his shoulder blades and his neck and his back, pressed and kneaded his skin and listened to his breathing which seemed to be the only sound in the world except the rustling of our clothing as our hands sought out each other's flesh.
I took my mouth away from his, "Harry, please, let's go into the bedroom."
Hand and hand we walked into my bedroom and there resumed the kiss and the embrace that we had started. But this time, he began to fumble with the buttons on my blouse. Slowly he undid every one. I was weak with excitement and expectation. As soon as the front of my shirt was open, his hand slipped inside and around and he unfastened my bra.
Soon my breasts were free. His hands sought them out, he pressed the warm, heaving flesh and tweaked the nipples, the little brown nipples that were already hard and erect. He held away from me for a second to look at my tits.
He shook his head, "Shit, they're beautiful. I don't think I've ever seen any tits as nice as that, even in a magazine."
I smiled at him for the compliment and then just whipped off my shirt, so that I stood before him, naked from the waist up. I was feeling better and better. I felt young, attractive, sexy. How long, how long had it been since I had truly felt this way. Why was it that no one had made me feel this way since Michael.
"Oh, Harry, Harry," I whispered and hugged him to me passionately.
He continued to caress my breasts, seemingly content with just that part of my body for the moment. But I began to unfasten his shirt now, too. I wanted to feel his naked chest against mine. I wanted to see his chest, if there was hair on it, what color was the nipples. I wanted the warmth of him pressed tightly against me.
He helped me a little, after all, I wasn't all that well practiced with buttons which buttoned on that side of the material. And then he was there, lovely firm chest with light rivulets of hair spinning down past his belly button, down to where I knew he was beautiful.
I touched him for a moment, that fawn-colored hair, those lovely man tits of his. And then I pressed him to me, melting in the warmth we shed between us.
He then began to work on my pants. He didn't take very long to unbutton the top button and to unzip them, I guess that someone who looked as good as he did got a lot of practice at that type of thing. I wondered where, if he had fucked girls in the backs of cars, at their houses when their parents went out to the movies, even in the library he had been bold enough to enjoy some mutual sucking with a girl, that if I believed him, didn't even have a name to him.
His hand eased down between my legs and immediately found my clitoris. He began to rub it gently, stimulating it softly and achingly. And how my body responded. I felt as if I were going to have an orgasm right then and there, just from the accumulation of fear and expectation, just from all the anticipating I had been doing all day long just from that alone.
But his caress was so expert, so smooth. The way his index finger and his thumb pried and tickled my love button was just unbearable. I squirmed under the touch of him and then sought out the front of his pants.
Again he had to help me, he had to finally unbutton the top button and then he let me unzip his blue jeans. He had no underwear on so I just stuck my hands down into his pants and felt his already very stiff cock. How nice and large it seemed to me, and when I thought how soon it would be before it entered my cunt, shivers just flexed my whole body and I moaned for the joy of it all.
We stood there, by my bed, feeling each other's sexual parts. Rubbing and caressing and exploring and exciting those soft, sensitive parts. Making each other tremble with desire and need. Need! How I needed him, it scared me for the moment when I thought of it. When I felt the stiffness of him I trembled for the moment of entry.
Harry pushed me back onto the bed and I lay there. He immediately pulled my pants off and then my underwear so that I lay back totally naked with my legs slightly spread.
"I want to taste your cunt, Jane," He said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, yes," I whispered, "Suck me, suck me, lick my cunt lips, but don't make me come, not until your cock is in me."
And then Harry went down on me. I soon felt his warm breath on my thighs, between my legs. One hand softly resting on my pubic mound and touching me lightly there, back and forth and back and forth. His tongue came from his mouth and lipped my clitoris. Oh, it was heaven, that sharp little tongue whipping around my pleasure button.
I almost stopped breathing as I waited to see what he was doing to me. His tongue slid up and down and in and out of my cunt lips and sometimes he would stop licking me and suck the resilient flesh of my lips. My clitoris was twitching from the feeling. I wanted more of this tongue treatment, more and more. I almost wished that I could hang on the cliffs of excitement forever, just on the borderline of orgasm, just like that with Harry's tongue and lips tasting of me and making the juices flow infinitely.
But I knew that that would never happen. Now he pressed his face deeply into my cunt and his tongue penetrated the warm, dark hole. His tongue stuck far up into me and wiggled around. He began to suck, to suck into his mouth the juices flowing around his tongue.
The noises he made on my twat were totally erotic, like walking in mud I thought then. And I think ever afterward, when I walked through the mud I though about Harry noisily sucking and licking at my cunt.
My toes curled tightly and the muscles in my legs contracted. My cunt was on fire from his tongue treatment. I was loving every fucking minute of it and Harry must have liked the way I tasted because he sucked with real enjoyment and enthusiasm. As if the juices that flowed from me were nectar and ambrosia.
But I couldn't stand it anymore. It was too much for me, and I told him to stop before I had to have an orgasm.
"Harry, wait, I said, as he began to mount me, "Wait, I want to taste you, can I have your cock in my mouth first, just for a few seconds?"
He shrugged and lay back on the bed. My breasts bounced around as I crawled over his stomach, my cunt wet and hot and alive with desire. His stiff cock stuck straight out into the air of the bedroom.
How lovely it was, sort of pink. I figured it to be a rather large cock, even larger I think then was Michael's, certainly larger than the two anonymous young men on the beach. Oh, yeah, Harry was certainly beautiful all over. Light brown pubic hairs swirled around the hard prick and the head of it seemed uncommonly wide and round.
After touching it lightly with my fingertips I sunk down onto it to sip at the head. I stuck my tongue into the piss slit and worked it around. A drop of pre-cum oozed out and I sucked it hungrily into my mouth. Already I was making the loud noises of sexual hunger, but I didn't care, It was part of the bargain.
Part of the flowing and the noise of sexual play. And his cock flesh did taste and feel so good. I wanted all of it in my mouth. I sunk down further, passing it between my lips, inhaling all of the cock flesh that I could and Harry squirmed slightly under my onslaught.
His cock throbbed in my mouth. That wonderful thing, that organ of pleasure and pain. I thought how fantastic it must be to have a beautiful cock like that and I think that perhaps I envied him for a moment the pleasure of being a male, of having something so wonderful between one's legs.
But that was all right, because he made me glad that I had a cunt, a cunt that could take that marvelous hard organ right up it, to feel the hard desire seeking its final course.
And the taste, the warm, hard taste, the smooth length of it inside my mouth. I bobbed my head up and down, letting his stiff rod fuck my mouth, letting my tongue swirl around it like the stripes on a barber's pole. The metaphor amused me and I got into the rhythm of the idea.
With one hand I felt his balls, touched them, squeezed them gently. He had got a good amount of nuts. They seemed to be larger than usual also. Even in magazines, I thought back at him, even in glossy photos. But what did I know of that? All I knew was that he was beautiful and large and that his flesh was hot for me.
For Jane Andrews, who suddenly discovered at age thirty-five that she had a cunt.
"Jane, Jane," he said, putting his hand on my head, "let's fuck now before you get a mouthful of my sperm."
I took my mouth off of him, "But that would be all right, I want to taste that too, I want to swallow all of you."
"Later," he said, "Right now, we're going to fuck."
His hands found my shoulders and he pulled me up on top of his chest. We kissed again, long and probingly and I felt his hard desire and my wet need glued together. I also felt the already perspiring bodies that we had pressed together. Every inch of my flesh was awakened to him, to our mutual desire.
He flipped me over and rolled on top of me. He grabbed a pillow and slid it under my ass. Then his knee pushed against my thigh and spread my legs farther. He positioned his cock at the entrance to my cunt. I felt the head gaining entry. Already it was nice, farther and farther entry gained the hard cock.
Harry held his breath in anticipation.
And I held my breath, too, the moment was at hand. I relaxed my body and with one final shove Harry pushed his cock way up into my cunt. I cried out with the shock of the pleasure. The pleasurable waves that spread through my body like tremors of fear. But I was not afraid, oh no, I was exalted. The feeling of his cock filling my insides was so wonderful.
The feeling of Harry's body resting on top of mine and our two bodies joined together by his large cock, it was a feeling that I could have lived with until eternity. It was life, complete.
And he lay like that, not moving at all except for an occasional twitch inside of me. Soon it was me that started moving underneath him, I started to raise my ass up and force his cock farther inside of me, filling me even more.
I wiggled my hips around and made circles between us and inside of us. Harry responded to my motion by swivelling his own hips and coming in and out of my cunt from all directions.
We fucked like that for some time, experimenting with entry and release, slowly, well-defined, pulling out pleasure, making it feel so good that it ached.
"Jane," he said, "Put your hand between us and feel my cock going in you."
He raised his body up a little bit so that I could accomplish that. My hand found the place where we were connected and I felt his prick going in and out of me. I also felt the wetness between us and now an odor rose to my nostrils, the strange and erotic odor of two bodies moving together.
His cock was already quite wet and slippery from the juices that my excited cunt had produced. My own insides were pulsating from the absorbing pleasure and my clitoris twitched the way his cock did.
But the feeling that was coming onto me was nowhere near rational and I removed my hand and both hands found the warm flesh of his ass. He slid his hands underneath me, and clasped my ass. Our mouths met again and our tongues intertwined.
Now we began to fuck in earnest. He plunged into my body, shoving his cock up to the hilt, up into my womb. As he plunged down onto my body, I arched my back up to meet his thrust. And he went faster and faster, until I felt as if my cunt was his cock and his cock was my cunt and we were in the ultimate sexual union.
How he plunged and how he humped me and how my hips rose to met the mutual desire, the mutual reaching that led us into each other, that made our sexual organs one thing, one desire.
My loins ached for him, they spread under the fierce feeling that was centering on both of us, sexual peaking coming over us both in a frenzy of mad fucking and mad kissing. He ate at my mouth and I bit his lips, my fingernails sank into the flesh of his ass and I whimpered for the aching desire that had us both in its clutches.
We started to come together, sexual oblivion washed over us, washed us away in a terminal climax that threatened to shatter us both to our very souls. Harry took his mouth off mine and I then heard his wild and scattered breathing in my ear. It was a beautiful sound that his mouth made, like the wind and like the sea, a storm of passion in my ear, the only sounds that I could hear.
I thought of nothing, nothing. For there were only our two writhing bodies on the bed, the thought of his prick seeking release and the contractions of my vaginal walls.
I screamed with pleasure and I wrapped my legs around his humping back tightly as we rode the orgasm to the very end.
And after we had both stopped moving within each other, we lay still for some time, Harry lying on top of me with his face by my ear and his breathing becoming smooth and regular.
I looked up at the ceiling, my mind reeling with the pleasure we had just enjoyed together. My hands began to wander on his back, I caressed the flesh there, the wonderfully firm, silky skin stretched over his spine. Tremors of affection coursed through my body for this young man and he responded by hugging me to him.
Smiling, I sat up on top of him, my wet cunt resting on his groin. He reached up with his hands and took ahold of my nipples and he was smiling too.
We touched each other, I caressed his chest and the fawn-colored hair that grew there and he fondled my breasts for a very long time. I loved every minute of his touching fingers. I looked at those hands, those beautiful hands. The realization that they were on me, on my flesh was a consuming one, one that made me feel for him all over again, feeling the first stirrings of desire once again between my legs and down my thighs to my very toes.
One hand of his slipped down to the seat of pleasure and he again touched my clitoris and rubbed the slit between my legs. It was very wet down there, full of sperm and my own juices, my pubic hairs glistened with liquid sex.
I also reached between us to feel his soft cock.
How surprised I was to find it already growing hard. I had not believed it was possible. He smiled up at me mischievously. The little devil was already achieving another hard-on.
"Here's your chance to taste me a little better." Harry said, holding onto his smile and to my left tit.
I needed no further invitation than that, and I climbed down between his legs and began to lick the juices off of his cock. I tasted there our mutual love secretions, my come and his come and the sweat of his balls.
The aromas were overpoweringly erotic and I slurped like a cat at a bowl of milk. Never in my life had I felt so much like the flesh of the earth. I just lay there between his legs feasting on the smell of our union and licking his cock and balls.
I licked around the piss slit again, poking my tongue into the small hole and then sucking gently at the end. Harry wriggled his buttocks on the bed and I sunk down further on his prick.
His hand now rested in my hair and he found my ear and began to fondle the strange flesh there, his finger made circles all around my hearing and I found that very exciting as my mouth filled up with his hardening manhood.
I sucked gently, lovingly, wanting to draw out his pleasure almost to pain. I fondled his balls with a hand, squeezing them and caressing them in time with the sucking I was doing. My tongue was not resting all that time but spinning around the pulsating veins in the length of his cock.
How wonderful it was to feel that cock grow hard right in my very mouth. How fantastic it felt throbbing against my inner cheeks. I felt my face expanding with it, it occurred to me that I must look terribly contorted with all that meat in my mouth, like an overindulgent squirrel must have looked. But what did those things matter? In situations like this, vanity vanished to pinpricks on one's skin and the pleasure of the senses was all one knew.
So I continued down there between Harry's legs, licking him all the ways I could think of. Making his cock jump and twitch with a flick of my tongue and sucking the head of the cock with great force and wind. I sucked him so hard that my eyes hurt and my cheekbones hurt and then I bobbed down on him.
Wet popping noises resulted from the force of my mouth descending and removing itself from the now very hard cock. It was a good feeling having my mouth filled and then empty and I stepped up the pace and went up and down very fast, very hard. Suddenly that seemed to be enough, and I concentrated on that mouth fucking.
Harry was loving every minute of it and soon his whole body would rise to meet the descent of my mouth over his cock. He began to hump my face from below. I suppose someone might have felt that this was a degrading pose, me, Jane Andrews, thirty-five-year-old librarian, sucking off a young boy like that.
But in this case, I was so enthralled with the beauty of his young cock, by the way it sprung back to hard life so quickly that I could only have paid him homage with my mouth. I would have offered him any orifice he wanted on my body. If he had wanted to fuck me in the ear or nose I would have tried to make it possible for him.
Perhaps that was a slavish attitude, but that is the way it goes in bed, if it goes well. You give all to your partner and your partner gives all to you. No thing should be so repulsive to you that you would not try it.
For what greater pleasure is there but the mutual effort of two bodies working together toward orgasm. I could think of nothing else in my whole life that I had enjoyed so much. And I knew that I even liked this fucking and sucking with Harry better than the relationship that I had enjoyed with Michael so many years ago.
All these thoughts passed through my brain as Harry's cock passed through my mouth, as my tongue clasped his hard desire and drops of pre-cum were oozing down my gullet.
The throbbing in his cock became intensified and I redoubled my administrations to his groin. Harry moaned rather loudly and yanked at my hair as his hot sperm flooded my mouth.
CHAPTER SIX
I could go on and on about the next three weeks with Harry. We were practically living together. Every night he would come to my apartment and we would make love. It got to where I was always on the brink of an orgasm just thinking about Harry. So wonderful was the sex between us. We would fuck and then we would lay together on my bed smoking and talking until we were ready to fuck again.
And we were adventurous in our lovemaking, we watched each other urinate, and I let Harry put my diaphragm in place, and we would shower together and have anatomy lessons, exploring and touching each other in every way imaginable.
Naturally, I was in love with him. And though I did not expect that from Harry really, I felt that he was attracted to me and that he respected me. Sometimes it would depress me a little, I would think that it would be nicer if we could be properly in love. If we could hold hands as we walked down the street or sat in a restaurant and had dinner or exchange kisses anywhere the urge struck us.
But for now, all demonstrations were isolated in my apartment. At work we were very formal, hardly exchanging so much as a wink in each other's direction. It did not bother me at first, in fact it did not even bother me to see Harry flirting with the pretty young things that came in to check out some reading material for the beach.
But it was not going to go on that way forever.
And finally one day I walked out of my office and saw Harry at the front desk. He was talking in a low voice and laughing lightly with an extremely pretty girl. She was rather tall with very long, very straight black hair. Even from the distance that I was, I could see that she had fabulous blue eyes and a very deep tan.
Her body would have graced the cover of any men's magazine in the country. And jealousy raged through me. Harry was looking at her with real interest. Well, how could I blame him. How could anyone not look at a young woman like that.
I watched Harry talking to her, apparently he was suggesting some reading material. My insides were livid with hurt and envy. Had Harry ever looked at me that way? I tried to think, it did not seem so.
I walked into my office and sat at my desk, I hurriedly lit a cigarette and inhaled for all I was worth. I needed a drink. Some Sherry maybe. Yes, I did have some sherry somewhere in the office, left there for the winter months and the cold drives home.
Quickly I found the bottle and poured a healthy portion into my coffee cup, I threw it down my throat in one gulp. That sort of amused me, thinking of the rule about drinking sherry: That every glass of sherry should last for half an hour. Well, I wasn't drinking it for the pleasure of the taste at the moment, I was drinking it for its effect, the burning of the liquor which might be a cross fire to the fires of jealousy.
I poured myself another round and this time I drank a little slower, letting each swallow slide down my throat.
What was wrong with me, hadn't I told myself that this would happen, that eventually Harry would find someone his own age whom attracted him more than I? Had not I known that from the beginning, had not I told myself to enjoy it while it lasted and don't put anything more than that into it?
It hadn't worked out that way. I had been starving for affection for too many years and Harry was too fucking good in bed. My body needed him now like a drug. Yes, it was a compulsion, it was something I could not help.
I asked myself if I could share Harry with other women, if it were possible to be that casual about loving him. I supposed that I would that I would do anything to have him part of the time at least, just occasionally to have him hold me in his arms. I knew that I would be a dead person in between those times, that my flesh would age and my days and nights would be filled with a loneliness that I had never really known.
The loneliness of sexual need.
I took another hit of the sherry and lit another cigarette. I gazed at the piles of work on my desk, tons of paper everywhere. I was neglecting my work, I was neglecting everything but Harry and anything that had to do with our relationship.
Suddenly I found, compounded with my sexual jealousy, the guilt of all that unfinished work and I felt real bad. I poured another sherry and by the time I had finished that I was still conscious of all the worries, but they couldn't seem to make too much of an impression on me. Sort of like novacaine.
I got through the rest of the day in a blurry silence, dealing with the patrons of the library in the best way I knew how and trying to concentrate on some on the piling paperwork. I avoided seeing Harry.
Toward the end of the day he knocked on my door. I told him to come in.
He walked right up to me after he had shut the door and putting his hand on my right breast he kissed me really hard. I melted right then and there.
But then he held back and looked at me, "Shit, Jane, have you been drinking?" I shrugged, "What's it to you?" Harry looked puzzled, but he seemed to have something else on his mind. "Listen, Jane, I'm r going to be late getting to your place tonight."
"Oh?" I said, perhaps a little sarcastically, "Do you have another date?"
Harry took hold of my hand, "No, just some friends of mine asking me to take in a movie. I'd bring you along but...."
"Oh sure, sure," I said, nearly doubling over with the pain, "You go on ahead with your firends and have a good time. But what time can I expect you?"
"Well, we're planning on going to the early show, so that gets out at nine. I should be over at your apartment by ten o'clock. That's not too bad is it? I found some really interesting pornography as I was pulling the K thru L section ... I thought maybe we could read to each other."
I looked down at some papers on my desk, "Are you tired of me, Harry?"
Harry sat down on the top of the desk and put his hand on my head, "That's not it, Jane, not it at all. It's just that there are other things I want to do. Perhaps its unfortunate that you can't come. Perhaps we should be courageous enough to say fuck them all and go where and when we want. But even if we were willing to risk all the talk and action, somehow I don't think you would enjoy my friends all that much. And to be quite frank with you, I think they would feel uncomfortable with us."
Harry seemed so wise to me, so fucking wise. Here was this little kid, because that's really what he was, telling me all this shit, which I suppose I was equally aware of, but was ignoring in the face of my passion for him.
My passion for Harry refused to accept the outside world. I only wanted my world to be the world of our bed, of our sexual glands and our private company. That was the only thing that was worth anything to me, to my lousy, boring life. But I also realized that Harry was not me, that he was youth incarnate, that life held promise for him, still held surprises for him, that he believed in himself and in the world.
It made me very sad to think of this difference between us. A shadow of difference that was our age. Maybe it wasn't even our age, maybe if I had been a different person that gap would not have existed, but then again, neither would our love have existed.
I looked up at Harry and again the feast of my eyes stung me to my very being. How much I wanted him, how much I needed him. It frightened me in the realization.
Painfully, I smiled at him, "All right Harry, I'll see you later tonight then." I reached out and touched his arm. Harry pulled me up from my seat into an embrace and we kissed for quite some time.
Once again I felt those old urges begging my body for release, for love, for liquid love, for the entry of Harry's cock into my body. It left me breathless and longing for time with him. For the comfort of the weight of his body. The emptiness of his departure from my office was awful.
I went home and made myself a small supper, but I didn't feel like eating. My stomach was too full of butterflies and my head was aching. I found myself drinking vodka, my eyes looking about my rooms for something to distract my terrible attentions. I wandered about, looking into mirrors at the sad face that looked back.
Hours passed somehow, I was watching the clock, waiting, waiting for Harry to come. The evening passed into dark night and soon it was ten o'clock, and then eleven o'clock, but still there was no Harry. Not even a phone call.
I thought I would lose my mind, I tried to reason with myself, saying that he was only a kid, that he wasn't worth all the worry. But my hands clenched and unclenched themselves and I knew that all the reasoning in the world would have no effect on the urgings of my body. My body which begged me to go out and seek him and bring him back to the darkness of my cunt.
And finally, when I could stand it no longer, I grabbed a sweater and left my rooms. I had no idea where I was going once I got into my car. I drove around for a while and when I passed the library I noticed that there was a light on. I thought to myself that perhaps I had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Harry that I had neglected to turn off all the lights, so I pulled into the parking lot and went to the door.
I unlocked the door and went in. The dark silence of the stacks and rows of books was somehow comforting. For a moment I just stood in the middle of the library inhaling the sensuality of the place.
That may seem a strange reaction to something like a library, but nevertheless for those who can feel such things that is the way it is. There is something about a library that is a breathing flesh. There is a hush in such a place, but in that hush is a million voices of a million minds and bodies, there contained the physical actions of those dead and living. A record of the human comedy, of the human conceit, of human love and hate.
You don't even have to know how to read to feel it.
My skin crawled from the aura of silence and knowledge, but it was a good feeling. It was the best feeling I had had all day. It was like fresh air to my confused mind, my twisted body.
Suddenly I heard the sound of a match being lit. It was coming from my office, where also came the source of pale light. I quietly walked back to the room and looked into the door. To my surprise I saw Carol sitting at my desk with her feet up, smoking a cigarette and reading a book.
"What are you reading, Carol?" I asked.
Carol nearly jumped right out of her flesh she was so startled. One hand flew to her breast as she looked at me with wide eyes.
"Damnit to hell, you scared the shit out of me, Jane."
"I'm sorry, but what the hell are you doing here so late?"
"I might ask you the same question."
"And you may, but I asked first."
Carol shrugged, "I'm reading, and what better place to do it than a library?"
"What's wrong with lying in your own bed at home reading?"
"I live in a boarding house with eleven other girls who have exactly eleven record players and countless male friends climbing in and out of the windows."
I sat down on the desk while Carol was talking. I was thinking what a strange girl she was. At her age, she had absolutely no interest in the opposite sex ... and yet she was so lovely, such a beautiful body.
"Now, Jane Andrews, what the hell are you doing here at this late hour?"
"I was looking for something to read."
"Bullshit."
"All right, I was driving by and saw the light on and thought that I had forgot to turn it off."
"Ah-ha! and what were you doing driving around this late at night?"
"I don't know, Carol; I just don't know."
Carol knitted her brows and her hands together, "What's up Jane? What's bothering you? You can talk to me, you know, you can say anything to me."
I sat down on another chair. How wonderful it would be to talk to someone, to get some feedback on this miserable situation. I could trust Carol, I knew that. There was something very odd about the young woman, but I did feel that I could trust her.
"How well do you know Harry Smyth?" I asked, averting my eyes.
Carol snubbed out her cigarette. "Not very well, seems to be a nice chap, though."
"I'm having an affair with him."
Carol was silent for a few minutes while she absorbed that one. "You mean he's the gentleman you stood me up for?"
I nodded. And then I told her everything. I told her about how I had witnessed Harry and the young lady in the supply room sucking each other, how I had confronted Harry and fallen waste to his administrations, how later we had gone to bed and how we had been doing it for some time. I told her of the extent of my passion and I told her of the extent of my jealousy and then I told her about tonight.
When I was finished Carol came over to me and sat on the edge of my chair, her body brushing against mine.
"Jane, Jane, you've really got it bad, don't you? Look at you, you're so frustrated you can hardly cope. The trouble is you're sexually addicted to this one person. It doesn't matter that you're older than him, that is irrelevant. It matters that you're so concentrated on him. I can help you right now, sort of give you a tranquilizer. Will you let me?"
"Anything, anything," I said, tears of self-pity streaming down my face. "I trust you Carol, I really do."
"Good," Carol said and began to fondle my hair, "You are a beautiful, intelligent woman who's got herself into a bind. Later you can worry the emotional aspects of this, but right now let's attend to the body."
Carol's hand slipped down to my tits and she began to unbutton my blouse.
"Carol...," I began.
"No, no, you said that you would trust me. I won't hurt you, I promise I won't hurt you."
I decided to wait and see. In my distraught frame of mind, I might have gone along with anything. Perhaps if Carol had suggested suicide or murder I would have gone along with it. I don't know.
But what she was doing to me now was easier than thoughts of violence. My body needed physical contact and she was giving me that. At that moment her hand was caressing my breasts, diving down into the flesh and touching the nipples in a most arousing fashion.
"Ah," she whispered, kissing my hair, "What beautiful breasts you have. Mine are not so nice from all the dancing and the exercising."
"I would like to see, can I see?" I asked.
Carol nodded against my head. And my clumsy hand fumbled with the front of her shirt. Unlike me, she wore no bra and her firm, small breasts tumbled into my hand as soon as the material was removed.
She seemed lovely to me. And her hands, unlike a man's hand, even a young man's hand were so smooth and soft and so tender. The caress of this woman was so different from that of a man. She seemed to know where and how it would feel best, give the most comfort and the most stimulus. Unlike the rough, curious touch of a man, the desperate grope in the dark.
Her long fingers arched over my flesh and rubbed tenderly, tenderly as if she were trying to cast a spell, a healing spell over my body.
She was succeeding. A strange aura of comfort and well-being began to flood my being. My thighs relaxed and my back, I slipped down a little in my seat. I was also aware of a vague stirring in my loins.
Her other hand had by this time slipped down between my thighs and was caressing its way up underneath my skirt, moving towards my pussy which was already secreting juices of oblivion.
Suddenly her hand was working its way into my underpants and softly exploring the parts of me there. She touched my clit, oh so softly, oh so nice. Her touch on me there was so expert that immediately, almost the instant that her fingers made contact my body responded violently. She seemed to know all the centers of arousement of my body. There seemed to be no secrets from her, and I suppose it was only logical since she was another woman.
"Touch me, too, touch me there." She whispered into my ear.
I felt for the front of her pants and unzipped them. I moved my hand down into her underwear. I was excited, I had never explored another woman's cunt before. I wondered if it would be different from mine, would it be bigger, smaller, hairier.
I found Carol's cunt to be very neat, small, and I could feel very little hair down there. I found her clit, too, and tried to imitate the actions she was laying on me.
Carol squirmed about. The chair was rather too small for the both of us and soon we had moved to the rug on the floor. It was a nice rug, since the library was all carpeted well to insure the silence of the room.
I stretched back on the rug and allowed Carol to undress me. I felt no shame and no modesty in her presence. I felt proud of my body in the light of her admiration.
Soon my breasts were exposed and then my skirt was removed and my underwear and I lay totally naked on the rug with little shivers of delight running up and down my spine.
Carol then stood up and quickly removed her own clothing. I thrilled at the sight of her lovely body. Her dancer's body, the strong calve muscles and the strong thighs, the strong arms, well-developed and graceful she was all over.
Her firm little breasts heaved from excitement. Every part of her seemed magnificent from the length of her long neck to the arch of her feet.
"How really beautiful you are." I said.
"I was thinking the same of you, Jane," she said, smiling serenly. But then we didn't talk any more. She kneeled down beside me and then came down to the floor and we embraced, lying on our sides.
We pressed our female bodies together and I thrilled at the feeling of her warm, soft skin. Our breasts were pressed together and I thought how I had never felt anything so wonderful as this. How very different, how very nice.
We began to squirm together, working our bodies out on each other, pushing our tits together harder and our pelvic bones together, so that our cunts were rubbing each other. We twisted our legs around each other's legs and wiggled our asses around.
It began to look like a desperate struggle as our excitement grew in pitch and velocity....The need in us developed and we clung together for desire and satisfaction.
Carol's hand worked its way down to my cunt and with one finger she explored the inside of my cunt and with her thumb she massaged my clit, all very expert, very fine. My hand caressed her ass and I felt for the asshole below the firm mounds of flesh that was Carol.
We continued to explore each other's bodies for some time, and our desire was reaching a fever pitch. I felt like I could have come just like that, it was so new and wonderful. But Carol had other things in mind.
"Jane, Jane," she whispered, after kissing me passionately, "I want to taste you, I want to taste your cunt."
I nodded to her and she slipped down my stomach to the center between my legs. She waited a moment, taking a good look at my cunt and now exploring me with both hands and most of her fingers. Her fingers lightly dancing over the flesh there, the wet flesh warm with desire for her, for her hands.
And then her lovely head sunk down into my twat and I felt her tongue working up and down my cuntlips and thrilling me with their multiple actions and designs. She pressed her lips into my cunt and sucked on the lips and then she would suck on the clitoris all the time using her tongue very skillfully, whirling it around my love button and sucking gently.
I wanted to taste her cunt, too. I had never tasted another woman's love juice, and this was a preiminent desire with me at that point. I began to make my intentions clear by working my body around.
She knew exactly what I wanted and she loved the idea, she helped me and soon we were positioned in a sixty-nine and I was looking at her lovely, not-so-hairy cunt. The aroma of it was enticing, delightful. I felt a terrible urge to just violently sink into it and slurp her up like a mad animal.
But I wanted to please her as much as she was pleasing me, I wanted to take it slow, sensually. I sniffed at her and then I tasted her with my tongue.
My tongue went directly up into the dark, warm hole of her cunt and felt the flexing and secreting muscles up there. She, too was exploring my inner cavity with her tongue, with her lips pressed tightly against my cunt.
It was such a grand feeling as we held tightly to each other's buttocks and sucked and licked each other's juices. I touched her strong thighs and I sucked her clitoris. We rapidly approached the height of lust, our bodies going mad on the floor as we worked in each other's cunt.
I whimpered into the aroma of Carol, and soon we had each other's thighs wrapped around our legs and we were humping against each other's faces. The body took over and the mind slipped into oblivion. My groin was alive and burning against her hair and I squirmed and cried out on the floor.
I wanted more and more of her. I wanted all that she had to give. I wanted to swallow all the juice of her body, I wanted to press her into my body. This warm, beautiful dancing girl, this strong woman with the beautiful cunt.
Our arms grasped at each other tightly and each other's cunt was pressed tightly into a face. Still we sucked and licked and breathed into each other.
Our bodies arched against bodies, blinded with passion, with lust and tingling with our own flesh, we went into our orgasms, became one mass of moving, livid flesh.
Kneading, pressing, sucking, flowing into each other, the demands of the flesh reaching their pitch, their kingdom.
We both went into a rage of lust and need and rolled over and over on the floor, trying to consume all of each other in one burst of orgasmic pleasure.
And when the contorted lust began to recede we continued to lick, cleaning and tasting, until finally we were both still, both wasted in the deluge of flesh that had preceded us.
I climbed up to lie between Carol's breasts and she sighed with pleasure and release. She caressed my hair for a while and then spoke.
"I suppose we should go home and get some sleep, it would be hard to explain being here in the morning."
"Come on home with me, Carol, I don't want to sleep alone."
Carol kissed my hair and agreed to come sleep with me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Carol and I arrived at my apartment, it was two o'clock in the morning. But neither of us felt tired, arm and arm we went into the kitchen and I marveled at the ease which I touched her with. Somehow physical contact seemed so open and so natural between we, two, women. Something in me felt like a schoolgirl and something like a woman and we giggled and kissed.
We were both expressing hunger so we went to the ice box to look for something to munch on. I was starving, and so was Carol, we took all kinds of food out of the box, milk, meat, eggs, bread, butter, fruit. We went to work preparing a sumptuous feast.
No sooner did we have the whole thing laid out on the table and we two sitting down when there was a soft knock on the door. My heart stopped. In a flash I realized that it had to be Harry, Harry whom I had forgotten about for the last two hours or so.
"Who the hell could that be?" Carol said looking at me.
I didn't say anything but I got up from the table and went to the door. I opened it and found, sure enough, Harry Smyth, looking somewhat sheepish.
"Hi, Jane, I thought that you'd be asleep but I saw your light on...."
"Do you want to come in?" I said coolly.
"I can explain...."
"There's no need to explain," I said, smiling tightly, "Come in and have something to eat with Carol and me."
"Carol's here?" He said suspiciously.
"Yes, she's spending the night."
Harry and I walked back into the kitchen and Carol greeted him cheerfully, "Sit down, Harry, what's your pleasure at this late hour?"
For some reason, there was no tension and I was feeling no pain. Perhaps the mechanism in my brain that had been causing me so much agony had gone to sleep, but all I felt now, sitting and eating with these two young people who were both now my lovers was a sort of warm weariness.
In the spirit of my happiness I reached and grabbed Harry's handle underneath his jeans. He recoiled and looked at Carol and then back at me.
"Don't worry, Harry," I said smiling, "Carol knows all about us."
Harry looked surprised.
Carol giggled and said, "But does Harry know all about us?"
We both burst out laughing, and affectionately hugged each other.
"What's going on here?" Harry asked, looking from one of us to the other.
"You want to know what's going on, Harry Smyth?" asked Carol like an indolent child, "Well, watch this!" And she got up from her seat and came over to me. She bent down and put her arms around me and kissed me fully and wetly on the mouth. I returned the kiss in the spirit of the message to Harry.
"Shit," Harry shook his head, "you two ladies are lesbians?"
"Among other things," I said. "That's no reason for Harry to get all upset. What were you doing tonight, anyway? Probably getting it on with some sixteen year old."
"I was not," said Harry. "If you must know what I was doing, I was swimming with a group of friends of mine."
"Without clothes." Carol giggled.
"Sure, without clothes, why else would anyone go swimming at night?"
"With girls, too, I'll bet."
"Well, there were girls there."
I couldn't believe that I wasn't jealous. But I wasn't. I wasn't feeling anything but curiosity at what Harry and his friends had done.
Carol persisted, "Tell us about it, Harry, was it an orgy?"
Harry blushed, his ego looked like it was recovering from the shock of me and Carol. He took a drink from his orange juice and then scratched his head. A big smile came over his face.
"I guess you could call it that."
Carol and I insisted that he tell us all about what happened, and so he did. Whether what he said had really happened or not, I suppose I'll never know, but it certainly was as possible as not.
"Well, Jane, you know I said I was going to the movies with friends? Yes? well, when I got to my friend Hank's house he told me that there had been a change of plans and we were going with a bunch of people down to Cranberry beach, down to the Leather Man's Cave to have a party. He said that there was going to be lots of beer and smoke there and the whole thing. I didn't want to go at first, thinking that I would never make it back to your place by nine-thirty, but he kind of coerced me. After all I had no valid excuse for not going except to tell him the truth about me and you.
"Anyway, we got in his car and drove down to the beach. When we got there to the cave there were already about twenty people there, guys and girls. Everyone was drinking and laughing and somebody had brought a radio and people were dancing to the music.
"I have to admit right from the start it looked like a pretty good party. As we all got higher and higher on the booze and the smoke my friend, Hank, who's got a good imagination suggested that we pretend we were all cave people living together. Everybody was just drunk enough to accept the game and just sober enough to play it.
"Well, it started out when all of us went wildly running down to the beach, tearing our clothes off as we went, making caveman noises and beating our chests like gorillas.
"We all splashed into the cold water and we were having a great time swimming around wrestling. It got pretty intense. There was a moon out tonight and we could all see each other's bodies as clear as day. Man, there were all those naked tits and ass and most all the guys got hard-ons as soon as we got out of that cold water and back to the fire in the cave.
"We all huddled together for warmth, nobody putting their clothes back on or anything. We sat there snuggling and somebody started passing around another joint. Pretty soon it got to be fondling and caressing and touching, I mean you couldn't help it. Here was all this flesh around you just begging to be clutched to your cold skin.
"I got me a handful of some chick's tits, they weren't bad tits either. She came over and sat on my lap, and I immediately got a walloping hard-on.
"I watched the scene that was occurring all around me, already Hank was balling some chick right on the sandy floor of the cave. All the time I was caressing these chick's tits I was watching Hank spread out those pair of legs and climb aboard. I saw his cock make contact and then take the plunge. The girl got real excited right away and started squirming around on the ground. Hank lay across her and found her mouth. They were locked in this real tight embrace and his ass was going up and down in the air and humping the shit out of her.
"She was loving it so much and all that she kept yelling obscene things in the air and wrapping her legs around his back. Hank stopped for a minute and adjusted their position so that her legs were bent up underneath his shoulders and her cunt was really exposed to the onslaught of his cock.
"It was some scene and the other people around who weren't watching were busy imitating Hank and that girl.
"Meanwhile my hand had found this girl's cunt and I already had three fingers working around inside of her. She was raising her body up and down on my fingers and creaming all over my hand, fucking my fingers you know. While she was doing this she was sucking at my ear and I felt like I was going to burst from the feelings I was getting between my legs.
"I looked around the room and in the light from the moon and the light from the fire I saw a number of interesting combinations. To the right of me there was this one chick, Sheila, she's a real popular girl you see and she had two guys messing with her. One of them was sucking on her tits and the other one was eating her out. She was really digging it. Her eyes were screwed shut and she kept reaching out with her hands and worming around from the thrills she was getting.
"To the left of my was my friend Burt, who was getting sucked off by his girlfriend, I guess at that point they were trying to play it straight with each other and not get into any of the other action. But while Burt was getting sucked off, and she was doing a real good job, too, he was looking all around. I guess it couldn't have helped but to turn him on really super because he came in about half a minute. Man, was it something the way that girl swallowed his hot come.
"Her whole face was bulging with his hard, throbbing cock and she just gulped away all the time with her finger stuck up his asshole and asking for more sperm.
"All around me and this girl whose cunt I was working on, there were variations of the same thing. One chick was getting it up the ass and sucking off another guy at the same time. A couple were engaged in sixty-nine and generally there were all kinds of strange noises and movements going on.
"I had never imagined that so much fucking and sucking was possible, but it sure had me turned on. I was in a frenzy, and I couldn't stand it much longer. I laid the girl I was diddling down on the ground, pushed her legs apart with my thighs and got the hell on her.
"I think she wanted to say something but I never gave her the chance. I just plunged right into her and immediately began to hump the shit out of her.
"It felt so good, it was such a relief to have my bursting cock surrounded by that warm, wet pussy flesh. I knew it wasn't going to take me very long to get my rocks off. I pumped her real fast, I hoped that she was as turned on as me, because I just couldn't wait for nobody at that time if my life had depended on her.
"I felt like a caveman, I really did. I felt like a big, strong Beast, like an animal. I socked it to her like I was trying to break her in two. She must have liked it though because she was humping me back as fast as she could and yelling all kinds of obscene things at me, telling me to fuck harder, fuck harder all the time. I did my best to oblige the lady and it wasn't long before we were both coming fast and furious and ripping each other apart with the intensity of our orgasms.
"All around there were slurping and pumping noises and when me and the chick I was fucking had gotten off each other we sat back to watch all the action.
"It went on for a long time like that, after a while I felt life coming back to my prick and I left the girl and got into some of the other action. I found a chick who had just been fucked and got her to suck me off.
"I must have come about ten times before we all got so wiped out from the beer and the smoke and the sex and all that we just laid around like a bunch of dead people.
"Arms and legs and torsos limp, head and cocks shrunken and limp, cunts glistening with sperm and sweat. A pile of fucking bodies. You never seen so much flesh in all your days.
"Anyway, when we finally got up to go, collecting our clothes from the beach I had Hank let me off down the block. I wanted to come by Jane, I felt I should come to see you...."
Carol and I, having enjoyed Harry's account of the orgy, were extremely turned on. While he had been telling it her hand had found its way to my crotch and mine to hers and we were rubbing each other gently but getting a little more intense about it. My mouth was practically hanging open with desire.
"Harry, you don't have to explain. I hope you had as good a time as me. We all ought to get some sleep, though." I said, "You know we all have work in the morning."
Carol had a glint in her eye. "How about we all sleep together in your nice, big bed, Jane?"
Feeling as crazy as I did, I agreed to it, and my mind was flooded with the thought of having both Carol and Harry in bed with me. Would it happen? Could it happen? Carol supposedly didn't go for guys, but she seemed to be deliberately instigating some kind of scene here.
I shrugged. Suit yourself, I thought.
We all went into the bedroom and after we had brushed our teeth and peed and all, got undressed and climbed awkwardly into my bed. Carol was laughing softly to herself as she crawled into the middle.
"Can I touch your cock, Harry? It's been such a long time since I felt a man down there."
Harry said it was okay with him if it was okay with me and I said that I didn't mind.
I listened to the three of us breathing and I knew that Carol was touching Harry's cock and his balls. Suddenly I wanted to feel what she was doing. I climbed over their two bodies and got on the other side of Harry. I pushed my body against his body. He lay on his back, and Carol and I lay on our sides and we both had a hand down between his legs.
Harry moaned slightly at what we were doing to him. His cock, in spite of his saying that he had already come ten times, got hard again. I felt his stiff prick and I felt Carol's hand nervously running up and down it. I touched his balls and held them in my hand, hefting them like they were prize diamonds or something.
"Let's turn the light on, Jane," said Carol and she jumped up to do that. She then came back to where we were lying and the two of us got down between Harry's legs like we were doctors examining him.
Carol wanted to put the cock into her mouth and she did that. I laughed at the funny way she looked with all that hard meat protruding from her face. I began to lick up and down Harry's thighs and around his stomach.
Harry squirmed like he was getting a forced enema or something. "Shit, you girls are driving me crazy."
"Come on, Harry, are we doing it as good as the girls at the party did?" I asked. "Argh," Harry said.
So Carol and I continued for a while, but then I stroked her hair and asked her, "How would you like to have his cock inside of you, darling? It's been a long time. You might enjoy it."
Carol seemed to like the idea, and Harry said that he would like to try it. So I arranged their bodies. Laying Carol on her back and spreading her legs out, I put two pillows underneath her hips and her lovely cunt was exposed to whatever might happen.
I then took Harry by his cock and positioned him right above her cunt. I placed his cock inside of Carol. She was nice and wet, and I knew that he would have no trouble penetrating her.
"Oh, Harry, she's going to be so nice and tight in there." Carol shivered a little bit, but Harry was taking it easy with her. He probably didn't have the energy to do otherwise if the story he had told us was true.
His cock began to enter Carol's cunt. Carol groaned and Harry shoved slowly but determinedly up into her, filling her with all of his meat. It was a terribly nice sight to watch, the way they were connected that way, that big, thick cock of Harry's filling up Carol's little cunt.
I pinched Harry's ass, "Now fuck her, Harry-fuck her real good." Harry needed no further invitation than that and began to screw her very nicely. He pulled out as far as he could go without leaving her cunt completely. After a while, Carol would moan whenever he pulled out and quickly push her body upward to get that cock back down into her.
They began to fuck in earnest and I watched, fondling both of them whenever I felt like it. Carol's face contorted with pleasure and sweet pain and sweat dripped off of her brow.
Harry looked very intent, very formal and solemn in his fucking of Carol, and the two of them went at it like a couple of rabbits.
I felt like flesh incarnate myself, my large breasts swinging free and my cunt as wet as the titanic after it went down. I placed one of my fingers inside of my cunt and worked it around slowly, eliciting even more creamy substance from my insides.
But now Carol was shaking all over and clutching at Harry's back. She was coming, I knew it and her frantic movements and strange cries excited Harry so much that he began to come, too.
What a delightful thing it was to watch the two of them plunging around on the bed, writhing and groaning in the, throes of ecstasy. I frigged myself harder with my finger, my tongue practically hanging out of my mouth from the vision of the orgasming couple.
The smell of the act was heavy in the air, the smell of Harry's sperm and of Carol's love juice and of my own secretions. There was also the smell of salt water that must have been on Harry from his midnight swimming party. Swimming, indeed, swimming in cunt.
After they had both relaxed and Harry lay on top of Carol trying to catch his breath, Carol reached out to where I was frigging myself nearby and started to help me. She stuck two of her fingers right up my cunt to keep my finger company.
But then she pushed Harry off of her, and, telling him to watch what we were doing, she went down on me. She sucked me with all the expertise that she had learned or that she inately knew. She licked me carefully, lovingly as if the secretions of my pussy were the most delicious liquids in the world.
My back arched as she sucked and licked and pressed her lips into my vagina and around my clit. Harry then came over and started to kiss my mouth, after a long, wet kiss, he began to kiss and lick the rest of my body. My shoulders, my neck, my tits, lingering there to taste of my nipples, he moved down to my stomach and went down and down until his head was beside Carol's and they were both licking and sucking between my legs.
Such delicious feelings I had never believed possible and soon I was entering into the period of sexual oblivion that one always wishes would last a lifetime. I rode with it, trying to stretch the spasms of my loins out forever, but it faded eventually.
My two lovers continued to lick me off, touching me with their hands and their tongues and giving me all of the tender loving care that anyone could wish for in a lifetime.
We didn't say anything to each other after that, it was almost five o'clock in the morning, and we were exhausted. The three of us dropped off into sleep in each other's arms.
When my alarm clock went off at eight o'clock I raised myself with great pain and looked down at the pair still sleeping. They were so tired that they hadn't even heard the alarm. I suppose I should have been just as tired, but I was too happy and too relieved of my jealous feelings to pay any attention to the health of my body.
I felt good, really good. I felt happy about going to work for the first time in weeks. I decided to allow Harry and Carol to sleep and go on to work by myself. After all, I was the only person they had to answer to at work.
I looked at them one last time sleeping in my bed, both young and beautiful, their hair tousled and tangled about their faces, their tanned skin gleaming in the morning sunlight.
They looked like angels to me, and I felt a twinge of jealousy for their age and their appearance. I shook myself out of it. Oh, no, not that again, I wouldn't let that happen again.
Loving Carol had helped me to get over my jealous feelings toward Harry. It hadn't mattered to me at all that he had fucked and sucked other girls at that orgy. It had been terribly nice to watch him fucking Carol.
As I drove to work I sang to myself, I was happy for the moment, there were new feelings that I had to deal with in myself, how I felt about Harry now, how I felt about Carol.
But I felt that they loved me and I was fool enough to think that the three of us had embarked on some kind of marvelous relationship, some sensual triangle that would last forever.
Again I had dreams of the three of us going off together and living somewhere. Maybe Boston, maybe New York. We could live together; we could shut out the rest of the world from our bedroom.
About eleven o'clock I phoned at my apartment. The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. I assumed that Harry and Carol had probably woken up and gone home to either catch some more sleep or change and shower and come to work.
I called Carol at the boarding house where she lived. One of the girls answered the phone and said that she hadn't seen Carol since the day before. I phoned the number I had where Harry was supposed to live. His aunt answered the phone. I told her that I was Miss Andrews the librarian and wanted to know why Harry had not come into work.
She replied that she hadn't seen or heard from Harry since he had left for work the day before. After I hung up, a gnawing suspicion began. At first it was easy to deal with. I could dismiss it by thinking about the night before.
But as the morning stretched out into the afternoon and then it was time to close up, as I drove home, as I made supper for myself alone and found the evening to be quiet, no phone ringing, no late knocks at the door, I began to wonder more and more.
That night was not so bad, because I was so physically tired after the three-way scene the night before and then a hard day of work without Harry and Carol to help me. I found that I could fall asleep quite easily.
But in the morning I was plagued with dreams. Dreams of Harry and Carol lying naked on the beach. Their young, beautiful slim bodies arching together. Harry positioning Carol like a dog and mounting her from the back.
I dreamed of them kissing and intertwined, I dreamed of Carol sucking on Harry's prick and Harry kissing her cunt. I saw them in a thousand sexual positions and the pain was terrible.
And somehow the dream changed and I saw Michael's face and he was being tender to me, he was fondling my breasts and kissing my hair. Then his hand slipped down between my legs and he diddled my clit, his fingers sought out my vagina and he probed and probed. His fingers went up farther and farther into me while his tongue sought out my mouth. His tongue grew longer and longer and his fingers grew longer and longer.
I dreamed I was choking on his tongue and that his fingers were now in my womb. I couldn't stop him, I could do nothing, nothing but look up into his evil, cold eyes, his eyes wide open to watch the pain in my eyes.
I cried out in my sleep and clutched at my throat.
Suddenly I was assaulted by the clean, clear light of day. I was assaulted by the vapor of my own dreams and the possibilities that I was not alone in my room.
No, I wasn't alone. Once again, the green-eyed monster had joined me in my humble apartment, in my humble life and in my defenseless body.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following day I still hadn't heard from Harry or from Carol. I thought for sure that they would be at work, but they weren't. I went through my paces at the library in fitful anxiety. There had to be some way to beat the pain, the ache that was destroying me.
By the end of the day, I couldn't face the idea of my empty apartment. It was like death, thinking of driving home, of climbing those stairs alone, of fixing myself a lonely meal and then the endless evening of solitude and empty flesh.
I drove out to Cranberry Beach, to the end of the point where the stark waters surrounded the light house. There was quite a wind picking up there and it helped to assuage the bleakness of my mood.
I needed to be alone, away from the people who had no idea that I was being consumed in self-pity, in guilt, in self-destruction. What had I expected? Had I really deep down inside of me desired and hoped that Harry would fall madly in love with me, would devote his young body to the needs of my older one.
And what of Carol, wasn't she a women, even though she had expressed no desire to have a man? Yes, a young woman, who would change her mind perhaps if she found a sensitive, beautiful young man like Harry. Someone intelligent and someone so naturally skilled in sexuality that a woman could not resist his person.
I knew now as I sat in the wet sand looking out over the ocean at the sun going down, that they were most certainly having an affair, an affair that was better and stronger than any that I had had with both of them.
I forced myself to look at it from a different angle. Didn't I love both of them, hadn't they done some nice things for me, hadn't they made me aware of being a woman, of being a young woman still, with the desires and needs of a young woman?
Of course they had and why should I want more, why was it that I wanted everything to last forever, why couldn't I just look at that thing with Harry and Carol in the same way I had with the two young men on the beach that night?
Because I was lonely, my flesh crawled for caresses, for someone to always give me what I needed, for the comfort that a strong man with a stiff prick could give.
But not for a night, not for random moments scattered throughout two lives, no, I needed much more than that. But it seemed to be a terrible problem. How could I love someone that wasn't as beautiful and young as Harry, as soft and tempered as Carol?
In other words, how could I love a man my own age, someone with the imperfections and scars of aging, the cynical viewpoints and the fading prowess?
I sat there thinking those sad, impossible thoughts for a terribly long time. It grew darker all around me and the wind blew harder and chillier all the time. It didn't matter, it didn't matter that my ears and nose were stinging with the edge in the wind, that my eyes were tearing from the blown sand.
I was lost to my body, to my thoughts, to the feeling that, at the age of thirty-five, my life was finished, that I had woven myself into an impossible net of mediocrity where the only thing that I could do would be to grow older.
It was at that point that I saw the man come out of the lighthouse and begin to walk along the beach. I watched him indifferently as if he were a seabird or something. He walked slowly along the edge of the waves and he seemed to be a tall man with a strong, nice walk.
As he came closer I noticed that he was a handsome man, deeply tanned, with dark wavy hair, hair like Harry's. He appeared to be walking closer and closer, and I wondered if he was going to approach me.
I stood up as he approached, his hands in his pockets and a slight smile on his face. I waited until he got only a few feet away and I raised my hand in a slight greeting, unsmiling.
I looked into that face and I instantly recognized who he was. It was unmistakable. Those jagged lines, the high brow, the deep eyes, the slightly wild hair. It was Harry all right, but an older Harry, a mature Harry, an even more beautiful Harry because there was something of the world in this man, an aura of long stories and long voyages and something else, an aura of peace of contentment with life, of someone who had found a place to live in this cruel world.
I was stopped in my tracks, startled by the beauty and the strength in this man. His form was impressive, he made me feel stupid, small, numb. Suddenly the full import of what I had been doing with my life was clear to me, I felt wretched because of that.
But then again, I felt bedazzled, happy to see this man, happy to see that he existed in the cold world.
He moved closer to me to talk, his eyes never leaving my eyes. "I saw you from the lighthouse," he said, "You've been here for hours, you must be freezing." He took one of my hands in his and held it. His hands were tanned, strong and large. They were like roadmaps of his life.
I tilted my head back, my hair was blowing all around my face, I pushed it back with the hand not being held and I looked into those wonderful eyes.
"I'm all right," I said, "I only wanted to be alone."
The man gestured toward the lighthouse, "Come with me back to my house, it's a marvelous place to be alone, but its also warm. I will give you some coffee and if you want you can talk to me. If not, than you can climb up into the lighthouse I think you would like it there."
I nodded to him and he took my arm and led me back across the beach, down to the point in the rocks where the waves slapped mercilessly on the shore, the gulls flapping and screaming and the wind even harder.
I was filled with an exalting sense of freedom and depth, my body wired from the windy stimulus, from the meeting of this man. From the hours of self-pity that had drained my mind and my soul.
But now I felt better, as if someone had intervened in my life and said, wait a minute, here's another moment for you that you will like.
We went into his little house. It was a lovely place, all rich, dark wood and shuttered windows, well lighted with oil lamps and a franklin stove with a mellow fire burning.
I was offered a chair in the kitchen and as the warmth of the room spread through my bones I realized how cold I was. I also realized that I probably looked like the devil, my long, auburn hair a mass of tangled knots, like seaweed washed up on the beach, my nose and my cheeks chapped by the wind, rough and red, my eyes stinging and blood-streaked.
My clothes, damp and hanging off my body like a rotting wood, oh, I must have looked a sight, no wonder the man had pity on me and asked me inside his house. It was a sort of twinge I felt then, but I ignored it.
"My name is Paul," he said as he sat down next to me with two mugs of coffee. "I was watching you through my telescope for a long time." His hand touched my cheek then, "I thought I had never seen anyone quite as beautiful before."
I looked again into those eyes, those magnificent eyes. "I....I think...."
"No," he said, placing his hand over my mouth, "I don't want to hear that, what you're going to say. I know you must think I'm mad. Perhaps you are right. I live here alone, I see very few people and only for a very short time. I'm happy that way...."
I tried to get up from the chair, suddenly afraid of not him, but of myself.
"No," he said, lightly forcing me back into the seat, "Don't get up, not yet. I won't hurt you. I only wanted to know who you were, to see you better, to touch you just a little. You can go when you are warmer." He stroked my hair, "What beautiful hair you have."
Perhaps it was the soft light in the room, or the numbness in my skin that was warming, but flashes of heat and electricity were running up my spine, light and warmth seemed to be flooding my whole body. And there was a tingling sensation in my groin.
My hand reached out and I touched his face, such a wonderful face, a face I could love to look at forever, to watch it grow older, to watch it grow stronger.
Then suddenly we were kissing. Kissing very hard and his tongue was inside of my mouth and he was tasting the wetness of my teeth and my gums. I sucked on his tongue, drawing out the salt of his saliva and the taste of his own mouth.
Our lips pressed tightly together and the movement of our faces continuous, as if we would try to eat each other up, as if we would suck each other inside with our tongues and mouths, as if the kiss would consume everything.
I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his chest. So wonderful it was, it felt like coming home, like finding peace. And it was different from Harry and Carol, it was complete, it felt as if the strength of his body effec and flowed into mine.
My thighs tightened with that familiar desire, that desire for consumation, for sexual movement. That hunger, that old hunger for men, for a man's touch and a man's thrust was filling my brain.
But I didn't want to push him with my hunger, did not want him to think I was a wild woman.
The kiss broke and he whispered in my ear, "Tell my your name. Please tell me your name, pretty lady."
"Jane," I whispered back, to him, "My name is Jane."
We returned to the same embrace, this time even more powerful than before as his arms wrapped around my back and he sought my flesh under my clothes. His hands began to clutch at me as if he could learn all about Jane just through his hands, as if his hands were the main vehicle for communication and his mouth. Oh, his mouth, his mouth at my mouth and our tongues rapidly searching out every inch of warm, wet flesh there.
The hand came under my clothes and up across my breasts, he pressed my breasts with such intensity and his breathing was already coming very hard to him. He handled my nipples, it was strong, hard, but it wasn't cruel, it was merely intense and terribly beautiful. I loved the way he was touching me, I could not think of anyone ever touching me exactly like that. Touching me as if my flesh could reveal something that no other flesh would reveal, as if I were the most important body that had ever crossed his way.
"Ah," he whispered, "You must have the most beautiful breasts in the world, I must see them, I must." And he held back from me in order to unbutton my blouse and to expose my tits to his eyes. When they were all out in the open he fondled them and stared at them, as if he had never seen tits in his whole life.
His head sank down between them and he fastened his mouth over one of the nipples, he began to suck me, to suck me with "the same intensity of that kiss, as if he would suck the life from me and into himself, as if he would suck the world through my tits.
I thrilled to his sucking and I wanted more, I threw my head back and just enjoyed the wonderful lashing of his tongue all around my nipples. I held my breath and felt the mouth move up and down and the suction of his lips thrilled me between my thighs.
Oh, how I wanted his cock. I knew it would be a beautiful, hard cock. I wanted to see it, I reached my hand down between his legs and I felt the unmistakable bulge there. How hard he felt to me, how big, I rubbed him with my small hands and he parted his legs a little, as if he had wanted me to do just that.
He wanted me all right, he wanted my body, he wanted my body laid out with him entering me, him fucking me for a long time, finding delicious release in the warm center of my body.
And that's how it happened, he stood up taking me with him and he led me to another room, a smaller room with a small bed in it, he began to undress me. He pulled off the unbuttoned shirt on my back and once again stood back to gaze at my breasts. Then he went for my skirt and pulled it off me, slowly, then my underpants. He felt my thighs and my waist as he did it, exposing all of me slowly, sensually, .as if his eyes would feast forever on my nakedness.
I was silent, glowing in my body. Feeling neither young nor old, but totally alive and totally beautiful. I stood there beaming and aching for his touch.
He laid me down on the small bed and kissed the flesh of my stomach. He was still fully clothed, but now he began to get undressed, never taking his hungry eyes off of my naked body as he, too, became exposed to the atmosphere of the room.
And when he had taken off all of his clothes I marveled at him, at the most beautiful man body I had ever seen.
He came to me now, caressing and kissing my flesh as he approached me. He lifted my legs over his head and went down into my cunt.
Almost immediately I felt his tongue snaking up into my cunt hole, it whipped around in the already creaming muscles, and I flexed and contracted around the action of his mouth. He pressed his lips deep into my cunt lips and sucked at them.
He found my little love button and did delicious things to it, he snaked around it and he sucked it, and I was afire with need and compulsion toward him. I touched his hair, my fingers clutching at strands of dark hair in the agony of intense desire.
He stood up again and I looked at his body. I looked at his cock and his balls. He was hung magnificently. His dark cock was wide and large, much larger than his son's, much prettier. I wanted to taste it immediately and I moved my head towards it.
But he pushed me back against the bed.
"No," he said, "Not now, I want you too much, it would be over in a matter of seconds. Please forgive me if I want this to last as long as possible."
"Yes," I whispered. "Make it last, make it last."
And then his lips found mine again as he covered me with his body. The weight of him over me was wonderful, it was a relief in itself to feel his hard, strong body pressing into me. To feel his erect prick against my thigh, his pliant balls swinging free.
I sighed in the kiss, breathing stiffly and wantonly. My arms encircled his back and they moved up and down. I felt his ass, a very firm, nice ass, I sought out his asshole and poked my finger up there wanting somehow to get inside of him, too.
His knees separated my legs and I felt his cock positioning itself to enter me. He slipped around me and the hard thing began to find its way home. It moved up into me; it sought out the darkness of my flesh.
And when he entered me completely, I sighed with relief with a blessed fullness. He pushed farther yet, and I couldn't believe how large he was. He seemed to grow even larger once inside of my cunt. His cock throbbed in me, twitched with the contact of the warm, creamy flesh and his body sank down onto my woman's body to wait, to wait for the right moment to begin fucking me.
I closed my eyes tightly as his hips began to move and his cock began to thread in and out of me. In it sank, deeply, oh so deeply he dived with his cock and then slowly he pulled it out, almost to the tip and then quickly he would plunge back into me. His cock bouncing off of the bone in my body.
We were plunged into a mad embrace, a race against time and the elements. Somewhere outside there was another world, but it was obscured by the sound of the wind and the tide and by the intensity of our breathing.
It was obscured by the large cock that was pummeling my cunt, the cock that was smashing my guts in the most thrilling, filling way. The cock that was teaching me more than any other cock I had ever known.
Oh, here was a man! A wonderful, man, a man that was not only teaching me that I had flesh but who was giving me flesh, giving me his flesh and my flesh to hold and to keep and to feel for this moment of isolation, this moment of fucking.
And now we were lost to the inevitable movement of my cunt and his cock. Now we were prisoners of sex and that was all that we knew. Only the humping of our bodies together, the eternal fuck in a capsule.
He felt for my tit and pressed it so roughly that I cried out. Yes, it was painful the way he assaulted me, it was a desperate way that he fucked, as if it were the last fuck on earth or the first. And I responded to all of his movements to all of his plunging cock, I felt my orgasm beginning, even before his, desperately I cried out and raised my body frantically to take more and more of his stiff cock.
And he fucked faster now, taking me for all I was, crushing me under his weight and under his cock and grabbing at my flesh until I felt like we were both going to disintegrate.
"Arrhh...." I cried. "I.... Oh, fuck me harder, fuck me harder, fuck me with all you have, let me feel it harder and harder, don't ever stop, kill me with your prick, tear me apart, treat me like shit."
And he went mad, his cock seemed to enlarge even more as it beat the shit out of my cunt, ravishing me with its fury and its need. The taste of his mouth was salty and his teeth bit my lip until blood streamed down off of my cheek.
My fingernails dug into his back in the height of my orgasm and his and I knew that I was drawing blood. What did it matter. There was only this divine moment and then we would die and there would be no other problems, no other unkind acts, no more jealousy.
My body arched as spasms of lust shot through me, I climbed to a height that I couldn't remember having ever felt. But the strange thing about that orgasm, was that it did not ebb, it continued in a chain reaction that threatened to cancel out the world forever.
And the hot come of his body burst inside of me and I felt that creamy substance flooding me, threatening to drown my flesh with its quantity.
He clutched at me, riding his orgasms as if he were riding the surf, plunging in and out of me until I thought that I would surely lose my mind. There was no more vision, there was nothing else in my mind except the fire of fucking of two bodies" pressed and released wildly, entirely.
And we went on and on until we both lay collapsed in a pool of sweat and come on the small bed. We did not talk for an hour, we merely breathed and touched our own bodies, trying to see of they were really bodies that belonged to ourselves or if they were only shades.
His hand came over to me and rested on my pubic mound, his finger played with my clitoris and he touched it now as if it were some thing of infinite worth and import.
He touched my breasts, gently now, lightly running his fingers over the mounds of my tits and holding the nipples between his fingers. My body shuddered with delight and with satisfaction and also with a growing, new fire in my groin.
I reached over and fondled his cock. It was soft now, well, half erect. In a flash I was between his legs and I was licking my cunt juice off of his member, my cunt juice and his sperm and the sweat of our two bodies.
It tasted like heaven, I could have stayed there all day slurping that sticky cock. I got his balls into my mouth, and that was really something, considering the size of them. I swished them and cleaned them with my wet lips.
I got my lips around his cock and sank down onto it, I sucked it good, really wanting to suck him, really wanting to milk the milk of the male animal right out of that prick. I had never met a prick that I liked as much as this one, never met one that could thrill me as much as this one had thrilled me.
It wasn't long before it had come fully to life and again he was spreading my legs and mounting me, this time in doggy fashion with me on my knees and hands and he like a wolf fucking the living shit out of me. After he had fucked my cunt for a while, he fucked me up the ass, and with a cock the size of Paul's that was some feeling. I thought for sure I would never sit down again, not with that hard, intense cock showering my asshole with hot come and hard meat.
His hands played with my cunt as his cock fucked me up the ass. He stuck about four fingers of one hand up inside me and worked up a lather of my cunt sauce. With the other hand he rubbed my clitoris and my stomach, and it was all very fleshy and very wild as his cock continued to plunge into my shit hole.
We came together after a fashion and then lay again together in each other's arms, kissing and hugging and waiting for the wind to stop howling. After another hour we again embraced, this time we were standing up and then we were on the floor where I sat on his cock and raised myself up and down until we both came in a shower of fuck sauce and sparks.
After that time we went into the kitchen and we had something to eat, but it was not long before he had grabbed me again and turned me upside down, possessing me again as I had never been fucked.
He fucked my mouth and he fucked me between my tits, he even fucked me under the armpits, and of course he fucked my cunt over and over again until I ached with so much passion and so much fucking.
Yes, I ached all over in every possible orifice of my body I ached and Paul's cock looked red and sensitive. But that wasn't going to stop us, oh, no. We continued until about six o'clock the next morning when we both collapsed into unconsciousness.
We were mad people. It was almost as if we were trying to obliterate all the pain in the world and all the possible pain in all relationships by the intensity of our passion. We were people who had never known each other. We were man and woman and we were the striving to unify two bodies, to make the unity the end of time and flesh.
What else could there be but cock and a cunt, two chests sweating and rubbing together until they rubbed each other away. Fucking going on until the sexual organs were numb from the continuous abuse and passion.
Breathing like the harsh wind until sleep captured us and tied us together for a while in oblivion. Oblivion. Sexual oblivion, then sleep.
After a while I awoke to the screaming of the gulls, the bright light of the afternoon filtering through the curtains, the light of the dark blue sea around the lighthouse. I looked at the man sleeping next to me.
A beautiful man, a man who had given me an intensity that I hadn't believed possible in this world of unkindness. My body ached for him again, to be filled with his body, tied to him through his cock and my cunt.
If only, I thought, if only, it could be forever like that.
If only we need never speak to each other save to say, "Fuck me harder," or "Suck me, please suck me." If only life could be an endless chain of stimulus, satisfaction and sleep, than never would I have to face the burden of all the things that had happened before, never would I have to worry about....
Never would I have to worry about the fact that Paul was Harry's father.
CHAPTER NINE
Silently I dressed and left the room. I walked out onto the rocks and sat down. The afternoon sun felt wonderful on my flesh. I felt clean, alive, I was almost happy. I was wishing though, I was wanting to be more than just almost happy. I was wishing that I could dismiss the reality of the recent past and just have this new present, this possible future.
The door to the house opened and soon Paul had joined me on the rocks. I put my head in his lap and he stroked my hair.
He smiled down at me. "This lady here is always sitting off by herself, just like me ... are you like me, Jane, would you like to live apart from the world just as I do?"
I reached up and touched the face above me. "I've lived apart from the world all my life, darling."
He shook his head, "I've been there in that world, and that's why I'm here now, away from it. I know this is the only place I'll ever want to be. You, perhaps you haven't seen enough of it. Perhaps you might want to go back there. I don't know you at all ... ah, not entirely true. After last night, I feel as if my body has known your body forever ... stay with me, Jane, stay with me for a while, for as long as the world permits you."
I sat up, he had offered me a harbor from the storm and I wanted it so bad. But could I take it? "I work," I said. "I'm head Librarian in town."
"What does that matter? Keep your job, go to work each day, but come home to me each night."
I knew that I had to tell him. I had to tell him now, if I didn't then I would never tell him but I would spend my whole life with him nursing a secret that would destroy us both.
I looked steadily into his eyes. "Paul, Paul," I said mournfully, "I know your son Harry so well."
"Harry!" He laughed, "How funny that is. But I suppose it's only logical and I do seem to remember him saying something about working in the library the last time he was here."
"No, Paul, that's not all."
"But what could be the problem, Harry won't mind. Harry would be pleased to see that I had someone...."
"Paul!" I raised my voice frantically, "I've been sleeping with Harry." I had to go on with the whole story, "And not only that, but a young girl named Carol ... the three of us slept together only a couple of nights ago and now, now they must be lovers. The reason I was sitting on the beach like that ... I was left out, lost because they had both abandoned me for each other ... because I was jealous, hateful of myself...."
Paul's face registered a horrible shock.
"Wait, Paul. Listen to me a little. Something terrible happened to me when I was Harry's age, and it made me afraid to love men my age or older. That was why I loved Harry, why I was able to fuck him, and others his age. They were boys who wouldn't hurt me sexually. And Carol was soft and kind and another woman. But it's different now. Now I have known you, and it's all different. I don't need them anymore-I need you and the kind of love you can give."
Paul stood up, his hand went to his head as if there was pain there. "That's the most fantastic thing I have ever heard in all my life. My son! Why did it have to be my son!" Paul turned away from me then.
I stood up and went to him, I touched his arm but he moved away, "No! How could we live with that between us, how could I face Harry knowing that you and he and some other woman had fucked and sucked each other ... anyone else, Jane, would have been all right. I didn't expect that you'd be virginal. No, in fact, that would have made it impossible, you would have wanted the world then ... but my son!"
I sat down on the rocks and cried then. I cried pitifully, I cried as if the whole world was spitting at me and there was nothing else but darkness and death looming before me.
When my hysterics passed and I looked up, Paul was gone and there was only the sound of the wind and the sea beating against the rocks.
I stood up and walked slowly away from the house and the lighthouse, I walked across the beach, tears streaming down my cheek and the wind burning my eyes.
The days passed me by. I went to work, I ate and I slept. Weeks passed and Autumn was soon firmly entrenched in that part of the country. The wind was blowing mournfully all the time.
I was numb. There seemed to be no point in going on, but then there seemed no point in dying either. I didn't allow myself to think about that night under the lighthouse in the little house with Paul Smyth. That was something that wouldn't ever happen again. The man who might have loved me was forever lost to me now.
But my flesh was still alive, still craving other flesh, another thrashing cock. I tried to ignore it, but it haunted me with a promise of pleasure.
And when on one blue-skied beautiful day as I sat at the front desk in the library Harry and Carol walked in, I nearly fell off my seat. It wasn't something I had prepared myself for. I had thought that I would never see either of them again, and now here they both were asking me to come out to lunch with them. They wanted to take me on a picnic. I kept refusing, but they kept insisting, and so I gave in. I left the older librarian in charge of the place and drove off with Harry and Carol in her car.
They sat me in between them and they were warm and kind and slightly apologetic. I didn't say too much. It didn't matter. When we arrived at a secluded section of the beach and they had set up a place in the dunes, we all sat down.
"Well, Jane," said Carol seriously, "I guess maybe you would like to know where we've been since last the three of us were together."
I shrugged. "Not really my business is it?"
Harry slugged me affectionately, "You don't mean that-you know the implications. Carol and I owe you a lot, Jane, and we didn't really mean to hurt you. And don't say we didn't, because we've been guilty for a long time now."
"All right," I said, bitterly, "So you hurt me, but not anymore. Now it doesn't hurt, so you can just go on living your own lives."
Carol moved closer to me. "Jane, Jane, please don't hate us, because we really love you. But we're in love with each other, and I think you can understand that."
"What if I can understand it?"
Harry came closer to me, too. "Listen," he said, "I took Carol out to see my father because I wanted to tell him that we were getting married."
"Getting married? You and Carol? But...."in some strange way I felt glad about Harry and Carol. I felt happy about being responsible for them getting together. The bitterness I felt wasn't anything but resentment at being left out, at not being able to be one of them instead of just me. But it was waning in the warmth of their presence.
"That's right, Jane," Harry went on, but I had this other talk with my father...."
"No!" I screamed.
They both held me and then I started to cry, the numbness that had protected me from the pain inside of my body had disappeared and the loneliness and desperation welled in me. "Oh, no," I cried, "why must I continue to live?"
"Because I love you." The voice said, the warm, rich, wonderful voice said to me. And when I looked up I saw Paul standing there looking down at the three of us, no not at the three of us, but at me and only me. I broke away from Carol and Harry and I rushed into his arms. He held me without reservations.
Then we sat down with Harry and Carol, and Harry went on with what he had to say. "Of course it was a terrible situation at first, and it seemed to Carol and me that we had made both Paul and you unhappy and that we had to try to remedy the situation. It's not going to be easy of course ... but what does it matter? Both Carol and I loved you, why should you, Paul, resent that love? If you have found this woman and feel that you can make it work, why should you let anything prevent it?"
Paul took me in his arms, "Don't let that blather convince you of anything, Jane, the reason I'm here is not because of them, but because after that night I realized that it wouldn't be so easy to walk away from you . ... I've been in pain."
What happened after that was one of the most amazing afternoons in my life. We had lunch and then the four of us fell into lanquid positions with our respective lovers. If things got a little carried away, then so what?
It wasn't long before Paul's hand had found my breast and he was searching for my nipples. Stirrings of lust began between my legs and spread throughout my flesh. How I wanted him, it was almost too good to be true. Everything out in the open and now this. I glanced at Harry and Carol and saw that they were locked in a passionate kiss and their hands were traveling all over their bodies.
Meanwhile Paul was really giving my tits a work out, fondling, caressing, pinching and generally stimulating the shit out of me.
I reached down between his legs and began to fondle that wonderful bulge between them. Oh, so hard, so stiff, so wonderful. I ached to have it in my mouth. Suddenly it didn't matter what had happened in those weeks, it also didn't matter that Harry and Carol were right there with us.
They certainly would not have minded, they were too busy clutching at each other. Harry's hand was already between Carol's spreading legs and I knew that he was fondling her cuntlips as he did so well. I knew that Carol was creaming all over his hand and was anxious for things to get really out of hands and into cocks and cunts.
Paul seemed to take the cue and his hand left my tits and slipped down my stomach to go up my skirt. He found his mark right away and he stroked and petted my cunt like it was a purring pussycat.
Well, I could have purred for the happiness and desire that was spreading throughout my veins and capturing the attention of my brain. My hand worked up and down the length of his cock and I touched the head of his prick and flicked the piss slit. I loved the feel of it in my palm, it was almost too big to be true.
Meanwhile Harry had laid Carol down in the sand and his hands were still working furiously on stimulating her cunt to the utmost. Carol was already squirming around in the sand like a snake and making noises like a dying bird. Paul took another cue from them and stretched me out lengthwise in the sand. Now the two men began to undress us, slowly, breathing hard. I noticed that Harry's cock, too, was exposed and it was brightly inflamed and stiff as a piece of driftwood.
They climbed on top of us then and the weight of their bodies covered ours. I clutched Paul around his back as his cock sought entry into my waiting pussy. How good it felt. I sighed with relief, with blessed relief as his cock slid all the way up to the hilt of my cunt and his balls and he filled me and filled me and filled me.
I squinted at the sun as he began to fuck me, going at my cunt from all sides, left and right and up and down, his eyes open and looking into my eyes as he humped the shit out of me.
I arched my back in the sand and then I happened to look over at Harry and Carol, they were doing exactly the same thing, Harry was plunging in and out of Carol very slowly and I thrilled to see his lovely young body and his flaming cock entering her body.
Carol looked at me and she held out one hand. I held out mine and we held our hands tightly together as our men pounded into our flesh, filling our bodies with their raging mastheads.
Slowly Carol and I maneuvered closer together so that the four of us were fucking all together practically in a pile. Carol and I were so close that we could kiss each other and we did.
Our mouths met as the cocks met our cunts and the juices of all our bodies were flowing together. Carol's tongue intertwined with mine and Harry reached over underneath Paul and me and he clasped my breast with one hand.
And the four of us fucked on and on into the afternoon, passion and hunger running high as the tide finally. But there was something else that made this miniature orgy so wonderful. It was the sense that it was something more than temporal, something approaching permanency in a world of shifting relationships and feelings.
The intensity of our bodies seemed to exist even after the glorious release that we all approached together, it seemed to gather strength from each orgasm and promise us an ecstasy that would last a lifetime.
