Sucking her clit or-what was it, her thumb?-Jessica James fizzed off in orgasmic dreamland. Her nipples were hot, hard. The joy juices ran from between her legs.
Yes, she could nearly feel the cock. As though one were actually roving in her clover.
And the other prick.
Rooting up her ass.
Fucking Jessica James.
The Jessica who was the dark-side Jessica. Who did what Jessica never would.
Trussed up in leather bondage.
Bare but for her flowing hair.
She had been stripped.
And was now being whipped.
The leather lashes bit again and again. Eating into her bonded hide.
Taunting her inside and out as hooded monks and nymphet nuns in miniskirted habits applied the cats-of-nine-tails to her titties and buns.
Now the shadowy figures of Jessica's vision shifted their shapes.
For a moment, Jessica's ghostly lovers assumed the dramatis personae of a Classical Greek vase Jessica had seen in a museum. A torrid trio of two long-pronged satyrs and a raging nymph.
Two taut twangers tamped Jessica in the mouth and cunt. The drool spattered from their lascivious lips onto her ass cleft.
The nude vixen jerked off while she watched.
The electricity of Jessica's orgasm blinded her. The fantastic players assumed new poses. New costumes, new roles.
An office party.
Or something akin to an orgy, really. The news manager Alexander had his pants off. He was yanking his twanger. Waving the cock at Jessica.
And the secretary Sylvania-exotic, erotic in lowered tights.
She seemed to wear a working dildo.
But it was the long dong of Roger the reporter. Sticking through her legs from behind.
As he humped through her rump.
Buttering Sylvania's quim lips.
And there was the haunch of the new girl in the office. Smack up against Jessica's face.
Jessica could barely remember the new girl's name. But she thought she had a good read on what her body looked like.
And of her likes and dislikes.
She was a party dyke.
Cock tease to the men.
Flirty with the women.
Dirty with them both.
The fragrance of piss perfumed Jessica's nostrils.
And, yes, she could almost taste the sparkling waters spray across her tongue.
Dashing out from the splayed cuntlips that opened in her mind before her eyes.
And from the purple-tipped penises that flashed alternately with bejeweled jizz.
The depth of Jessica's orgasm was scarier than she had ever before encountered.
At least while jerking herself off in the women's room during her coffee break.
Jessica rolled down the top of her thick sweater to cover her tits.
Slid the slim mini-vibrator from her cunt and turned it off.
She rose from the commode.
Wiped the scum from her underbelly with wads of thin toilet tissue.
As Jessica finished pulling up her moist panties and lowering her skirt, she flushed the wadded-up. scum-soaked tissue down the toilet. She took a cigarette from her purse as she replaced the small dildo within.
Lit the fag and plugged it into the side of her yip. Took a deep hit.
And went fuck-blind for an instant.
Before she recovered her mind.
The door to the women's room squealed open. The voice of the new girl, Virginia Marie Rowe-who had made a point to tell Jessica that she called herself Ginger May-was unmistakable.
"Hey, doll-you inside?"
"I'm making a pee-pee. That okay?"
"Where-? Oh, I see you in there. Sure you weren't getting it on with yourself?"
"Ha ha ha."
"Just a joke. But no joke. I do it to myself on occasion. Just between us girls."
"Really?"
"What do you mean-really !"
"I meant--uh-not by yourself. You know, this is a kind of public place."
"Yeah, cutesie. 'Fraid so. I don't let that inhibit me. Adds an edge to it, as a matter of bodacious fact."
Jessica opened her eyes wide. So, she wasn't as alone as she had thought.
"Don't look so surprised, Jessica. Nobody can ever, like, really catch you at it. Think about it. Not like a guy with a big prick sitting in there wanking it."
"Huh. Guess you're right."
"Say, Jessica. How's the scene hereabouts-in regards smoke?"
"What?" Jessica said.
Jessica stood over the sink and adjusted her makeup.
"You know-reefer. Locoweed?"
Jessica slashed a look at the other girl out of the corner of her eyes.
"I don't know, Ginger May. It just never came up. At least as far as I know."
Ginger May withdrew a thinly rolled cylinder of paper from her purse.
Stabbed it into her yip.
She flamed it on a lighter.
"Think it's fresh?" Virginia said.
"Fresh?"
"Yeah-fresh. As in cool, chilling."
"Oh. I just don't know those words. I guess it's okay to smoke in here. I do. But only tobacco."
"I hope those dweebs in the office don't get too lurched out. I was actually told not to get high on the job at the last place I worked-can you imagine? Bunch of assholes."
Jessica sniffed the air as Ginger May sucked in. Watched her tits rise.
"So, Jessica. How do you like the dudes herein?"
"In the office?"
"Same."
"They're okay, I guess."
"Well, it's my first day on the job, I know. But I think they're all married, mutant, or gay."
"You're right," Jessica snorted out.
Her tits jiggled as she scattered snot while trying to stem her laughter.
The other girl patted her back.
"Chillout."
"Thanks, Virginia Marie."
"Sure, toots. But, like, I beg you to please crash the Virginia Marie, won't you? How'd you know that was my old moniker anyway?"
"Ginger May, you said your name was. So I just thought it might be funny to-"
"Sorry. But I have no sense of humor about my name."
"Just because it sounds like you're supposed to be the Virgin Mary?"
"Almost, doll. This dudesse was named after a great aunt who wound up a lesbo nympho."
"So?"
"Hey-that's fresh with me too. But, like, I want to be free to be myself."
"So-what's in a name?"
"Well, Jessica. Why not change yours a little? Jessica James. Why not Jessie?"
"Oh, I thought of that. But Jessie James-it just isn't me."
"Well, Virginia Marie isn't me, either."
"I see."
Jessica bent into the mirror.
Jabbed a fingernail into the corner of her eye.
"Here, Jessica. Let me help."
Ginger May curved her body behind Jessica's. Took a drag on her locoweed cigarette. Stuck it into Jessica's mouth.
Jessica clenched it in her teeth as Ginger May held open one eye and blew on the crinkled eyelash caught near the tear ducts.
"Sometimes it comes out easier if someone else does the work," Jessica said.
She felt the softness of Ginger May's breasts on her back. Sniffed something akin to snatch.
Felt Ginger May's cuntmeat abut her rump.
She nearly believed the clit would nudge in from the rear.
Clit grown large-into cock.
Jessica unthinkingly pushed her ass back.
Hit Ginger May in the crack.
"Oooooh! You moved," Ginger May said. "How is it now, doll?"
"I-I think it came out."
"Excellent. Say, how do you like that weed?"
Jessica pulled the cigarette from her teeth. It had gone out.
"I didn't-uh-suck."
"I'll relight it."
Jessica tried to take her eyes away from the other girl's flesh. It seemed that wherever it was, whoever it was, Jessica would size them up in her mind as objects of the flesh.
Sexual fantasies.
In the office.
On the street.
Alone or with company.
Awake or between the sheets.
Sexual reveries of all shapes and sizes.
About fucking and sucking.
Stripping and whipping.
Pissing and kissing.
All orifices, all organs.
Mouth, ass, cock, and cunt.
In the back.
Up the front.
But it was only in her mind that she fucked. Only her own slime that she sucked. Thinking.
Of cockthrust and titsuck.
About dudes and dollies.
"Here," Ginger May said.
Jessica took the relit locoweed in her fingers.
"I won't go schizo or anything, will I?" Jessica said.
"I haven't."
Jessica eyed Ginger May warily.
She stuck the rolled cigarette stick in her mouth.
Sucked.
Coughed.
"Take it easy, doll."
Ginger May clapped Jessica's back. The touch felt so good.
Jessica creased her mind. What was it? Was she so desperate she'd do anything for a touch of flesh? Anywhere. Even on her back. Forget about on her tits, her cunny, her crack.
* * *
Jessica tamped in the news story via the keypad on the news bureau's word-procesing system. She didn't think there was any effect from the little bit of Ginger May's stub she had smoked.
But the fantasies in her head as she dissociated herself from her mundane work seemed to be crisper. More real. And more unreal.
There were dark faces at the window to the office building.
On one level, they were just the same old guys cleaning the windows.
But on another plane, they were cock-staring mental predators. Grinning prowlers who fucked women with their laughing eyes.
Peeping tomcats.
Glowing eyes taking Jessica in.
Stripping her with those eyes.
Then coming in.
Faces wiping their sticky tongues on her face. Up her legs.
Into her briny slit. Taking hold of the cunthair. Tugging it. Twisting her clit. Strumming her tits.
She saw black masks curved in grins. Curlicue-tipped pecker heads. Her own cuntal smirk. Magnified. Multiplied. Red vulvas.
Lips lined in scarlet cuntlipstick. She was not exactly herself. It was Jessica, but a different Jessica who did this. Who did it for real.
"I want fuck!" Jessica heard Jessica scream silently inside herself. The prickmeat slashed into her freshly shaven quim. Jessica's pussy was acrawl with snippets of scalding cuntcome.
The cockhead hooked out and in.
Then withdrew to the pusslips.
The famished cock pecked her quim.
Her buns boiled as the unidentified masked man thrashed into her.
Fucking the rut again.
And again.
Shards of come blasted into her gash.
She held out her hands and stroked more peckers. Hanging, dangling dongs.
They spurted sperm into her palms.
Come coursed along her arms.
Hit her tits. Sperm seared her face. Laced her dank tresses with slime.
The semen drooped in loops to her tits.
Snapped off right into her quim.
Her body blazed as she swived into orgasm.
She took hold of two twangers and crammed them in.
Up her ass.
Into her yip.
Then another mysterious cock climbed upon her. Fucked away between her thighs. Then tried her navel for size. "Aiiiii!"
The shrillness of her inner voice startled her. Roger and Sylvania stood to her side.
"Jessica," Roger said. "I need some details about censorship and politics. Along the lines of that story about the Ayatollah Khomeini-putting out a contract on Salman Ruslidie for writing that book-what was it?"
"The Satanic Verses," Jessica said.
"Yeah, that's it."
Sylvania hooked into Jessica's gaze. She rolled her eyes at Jessica to indicate that her boss Roger was a little wiped out today.
"Hey, you two," Roger said. "I may well be crazy-but what do you expect? The hours we spend together in this joint are enough to drive anyone right up the motherfucking walls."
The spray from Roger's mouth was loaded with alcoholic vapors.
Evidently, Jessica thought, the pressures could also drive one to drink.
"Just give the files to Sylvania when you're done," Roger said.
He turned his ass toward Jessica. Walked off in a haze of exhaustion and booze.
"Say, old roommate," Sylvania said. "I'm going to miss you."
"I haven't moved out yet," Jessica said.
"Feels like you have."
Jessica began the computerized search through the news bureau's information system. A printer coughed out little snippets of possible relevant material contained in the electronic files.
"Well, you know," Jessica said. "After our last raises we both could afford our own places. We'll still be friends."
"Probably see each other enough anyway."
"Not quite. I know we have had our spats. But girls will be girls."
"You said it. You moving to your new pad over this weekend?"
"I want to repaint it before I move all my stuff in. And I'm having the floors refinished."
"Need some help? Could maybe get Roger and Alexander to lend some brute strength."
"Not that their wives would mind or anything."
"Hey-take it for what it's worth."
"Possession is nine points of the law."
"Then you can get that tenth point from ten different guys. There you got all ten points."
"I'd rather not get mixed up that way with anyone in the office, anyway."
"Smart girl. If you're having the floors done on Saturday-I could come over afterwards and help you paint."
"It might be pretty late. That's why I couldn't get any half-decent painters to show up without automatic overtime."
"Besides," Sylvania said. "If I know you, you probably will delight in being alone."
"Yeah. I like privacy."
"Good luck, kiddo," Sylvania said. "Hey, Sylvania. Is Roger drunk? He isn't usually like that."
"Argument with his wife over the phone this morning. I think she accused him of fucking other chicks. But-hey-I'm sure he was working here all night last night."
"Too bad."
"Not all bad. He made a pass at me a few minutes ago. I hope he tries again."
"Sylvania-watch out."
"Don't worry. I take care of myself. Besides, soon I'll have my own apartment. Won't I? I might take advantage of the privacy."
"If you want, I could sleep over at my new place tonight. I have to be there early in the morning for the floor-refinishers."
"What'll you sleep on?"
"Sleeping bag. It's okay. You know how I like camping out."
"Hmm. If you say so. If he tries again today, Jessica. I'll let you know."
Jessica handed Sylvania the printout references. Watched her tail twitch as she sashayed toward Roger's office.
As Jessica imagined Roger and Sylvania in the midst of an extremely slimy fuck session, she dropped her thumbs to her crotch.
She saw that other Jessica enter into the scene.
Sylvania wrenched herself off Roger's dingdong in the aftermath of cuntcome. Jessica saw her chance.
This double of Jessica lowered herself onto Roger's striding cock.
She bent her face into his and licked out.
"Hmmmm."
"Like that?"
"Best lick in the world."
"Save some for me," the woman who was a match for Sylvania said. "I'll be back soon."
The other Sylvania flew into the bathroom. Looked back at Jessica's skewered quail. Winked.
Jessica rushed into the fuck. Her hips rutted Roger. He fucked right back.
Jessica rode her thighs. She raised and lowered herself on the hog.
Felt Roger's balls bounce with each hop.
Her long hair was slinky with sweat.
As she fucked the cock, she waved her head from side to side wildly.
She whipped her back with her own locks. Slung her wet tresses against Roger's face.
He took hold of her hair in his teeth. As he rutted her from underneath.
She felt his nuts crackle.
The jissom shot up through the neck of his cock.
Blared through the cockeye. Washed her quim with sperm. She held the cock to her. It was still hard. But not hard enough.
With strokes from just behind the head down two-thirds of the way to the root, Jessica jacked Roger to full hardness.
Sylvania strolled out of the bathroom. She had miraculously removed every hair of her body. She was covered in fragrant oils.
Jessica stuffed Roger's pecker back into her twat.
She grew hot.
Was growing hotter.
Her cunny blistered and screamed.
Brewing up a batter.
As Roger's prong made mincemeat out of Jessica's quailpie, Sylvania lowered herself between the two fucksters. She loaded her labia, shorn of hair, between Roger's lips.
As Roger sucked Sylvania's shorn pussy, he stabbed up inside Jessica's thatch.
He drank cuntjuice down the hatch.
Shot off again into Jessica.
Began brewing up another batch.
Jessica slowly inclined her head. She touched the rutting haunch of the hairless Sylvania.
Met Roger's mouth as they both chewed her cunt. Roger down flapped Sylvania's clit.
Jessica slid her tongue into the slit. "Eeeee-augh."
Roger worked back down. Pressed Jessica away from Sylvania's quim.
Jessica chewed bronze-cheeked fanny.
She snorted about the raised rim of the depilated asshole. Lapped underneath at the hanging pusslips.
The woman who was not Sylvania wet her legs. She shot her piss out.
Spattering Jessica's tongue.
Spraying her teeth.
There was a gurgle in Sylvania's belly.
A short burp from her bung.
A crackle of hot air oinked out from Sylvania's blowhole. The fart hit Jessica in the face.
Popped her between the eyes.
"Oh, yes."
"You heard me?" Alexander said. "Oh, yes," said Jessica.
She tried to remember what had gone on in the office routine as she had lost herself in reverie of the double-fuck.
A story had just come in from one of the wire services. One of the few stories that held any fascination for Jessica.
According to the summary, the council of parks and recreation of Coventry, England, had rejected a certain proposal for the celebration of Lady Godiva Day. The proposition had been to initiate a beauty contest for the selection of a Lady for the Day. The pageant would involve women presenting themselves in the flesh-evidently entirely naked except for the option of wearing a long wig.
The winner would then ride naked on a white palfrey through the fairgrounds, mimicking the legendary ride of the original Lady Godiva.
The event had been proposed with the intention of spurring local tourism.
Jessica thought it was a pretty idea.
A dark figure lurched into view. Her eyes glanced off to the side, away from the screen of her computer monitor.
A pair of blue pinstriped pants loomed before her face. The crotch was at her eye level.
Jessica saw, as if pointing straight out from the pants, a big dick staring her in the face. Long, curved, and milky white.
The tender tip of the engorged cock pointed at her teeth.
The sack of ballocks hung low. They waved as the man spoke. "Anything saleable come in lately, Jessica?" he said with weary jocularity.
The prick vanished from Jessica's imagined gaze. She looked into his eyes.
"Yeah, Alexander. Just came in. This story about Lady Godiva here."
Alexander Naismith bent into Jessica's computer-monitor screen.
He grinned as he read.
The lips curved up his cheeks. Rendering his expression, as seen from the side, to the outlive slash of circumcised cockhead.
In Jessica's mind, Alexander's head was a gigantic cock carapace.
His entire body length was the stalk of a man-sized male member.
Alexander represented to her one massive erection from his head to his toes.
She felt the subtle heat of his closeness. Smelled the thin reek of his sweat accumulated during the long workday.
She could almost see his balls-invisible beneath his pleated trousers-swing to and fro as he rose to a stance.
"Cute," Alexander said.
"I thought so."
"Sounds like someone's idea of a joke over there in jolly old England."
"Hmm."
"Don't you think?"
"Well, it sounds like somebody in the council proposed a nude beauty pageant, knowing it would be thrown out of council. I think it was more than a joke, Alexander."
"Yeah? What?"
"It was done with the express purpose of getting this very story out on the wires."
"I see."
"A story like this would get their name in the media. Garner them publicity for the festivities that they are having."
"You think they're that devious?"
"Sophisticated," Jessica chewed. "I think they are both aware and shameless."
Alexander flashed Jessica an easy smile. "That's the kind of piece we could sell as filler to newspapers all over the country."
"They knew what they were doing."
"You are probably right. I was thrown off by the source. If it had happened in California or someplace, I would have jumped on it immediately."
"Well," Jessica mused, "by this point in the evolution of popular culture and communications technology-I think anyplace in the world can become Hollywood for a day."
"To paraphrase Andy Warhol."
Jessica masked a smile. She realized then that she had shown Alexander a touch more perceptiveness than he might have expected from a typical bureau transcription and file clerk.
Alexander was rereading the short piece. "It could use a bit of fleshing out."
"What kinds of files do you need?"
Alexander hit his head.
"My mind's a blank on this one, Jessica. If it were about sports, international terrorism-I'd immediately key in on an angle."
"Want me to see if I can dig up something?"
Alexander hesitated.
Customarily, one did not entrust a computer-file flunkey with anything involving mental processes more adroit than retrieving info. They certainly could not be expected to know what to pull out of the data bank.
That was for reporters to determine.
Jessica found herself saying, "Maybe a bit of historical color-about the real Lady Godiva. We might be able to give it a women's lib slant. But with a difference. We could say we took a poll and found the women were for it and the men were against it."
Alexander cackled.
That last bit of Jessica's was good. Sounded like something he might say.
"Despite what some readers think," Alexander said, "we don't make up this shit entirely. Who would you poll?"
"Oh, the new girl-Ginger May. And Sylvania's a good bet. That's two women. And then you, Alexander. What do you think?"
"Oh, I'm against it. It defames women."
"There we have it," Jessica said.
Jessica could sense his body heat rising.
He threw her a wink as he spoke.
Give it a try, toots."
CHAPTER TWO
Bare boobs flashed in the mirror as the lights went on. Jessica saw the taut titflesh, still streaked with perspiration, jutting boldly from beneath the raggedly fringed bottom hem of her half-removed sweatshirt.
"Nice tits, Jessica," she complimented herself with a tart smile.
She adjusted the glare of the bare overhead light-bulb to a tolerable gleam and withdrew her fingers from the wall-mounted light-dimmer switch. She scratched one breast with her thumb, tweaking the nipple in passing.
The niptip crinkled and thickened.
Felt good.
"Be good to yourself, Jessica," she said "If you aren't, no one else will be."
Jessica stretched her arms above her head and rolled the tight sweatshirt to her wrists. Facing the reflection of her nude torso in the mirror, she saw the pink nipples of her breasts-both of them now hard and hurting-peeping out from the lanky strands of her long frosted-blonde locks.
She took hold of them and tugged.
Hard.
Seemed that what she did to herself was her only pleasure these days.
She twisted her tits firmly.
Eased into the pain.
"No pain, no gain," she mused.
And twisted them again.
Blasts of heat turned her spine liquid.
The juices of her loins began to sizzle.
She tightened up.
Bit her lip as she darted her fingernails deep into breastflesh.
Eased into the shafts of pain.
"Thank god it's midnight."
Jessica could take a shower, take a chill-out pill.
Take her mind for a ride. Take off in her dreams.
She tossed her head, whipping her tresses away from the titflesh like a stage curtain. She smiled wanly at the thought of her pert nipple-tips being the twin attractions.
For her eyes only.
"Tough titty, said the kitty to the lonely girl. Too bad; those tits are pretty."
Behind her, she saw the reflection of her nearly barren studio apartment. Since painting the place by herself over the weekend, Jessica had barely had time to move in her belongings, in between her long hours at work and her daily workout.
A spasm of excitement hit her.
She could hardly wait.
The anticipation of orgasm rinsed over her.
It had been a hell of a day.
One of many.
Monday was often a day of overkill, as Jessica tried to review the press releases and wire stories that had come into the news bureau over the weekend. Today she had filed half of the documents without so much as looking at them-and had still been at work until ten in the evening.
She dropped by a bakery that was open late and bought some hot-crossed buns. Because they reminded her of England and of the Lady Godiva story she had researched for Alexander.
He had been out of the office today and Jessica didn't even know if he'd had time to go over it yet. Her clit sang at the thought of his cock. She was interested in his reaction to her work, and told herself it was solely in the interests of her career-not with any intention of getting his cock into her rear.
Jessica had gone out for a quick jog around her new neighborhood in downtown Manhattan as soon as she had returned home to her still-unfamiliar digs.
During her late-evening run she had noted the colonial-period townhouses. Several neighborhood pubs with dark interiors of wood and brass. The tiny garden spaces and squares that adorned the neighborhood.
She pictured how it must have been in colonial New York.
It was always wild in the streets of New York.
In the clubs and the pubs and the townhouses and the parks.
And she saw them in her mind.
Imagining therein fucking couples.
Exciting herself with her imagination.
Spying on colonial libertines and bawdy wenches afuck in period costumes. Tricorn hats. Fur collars and knickers. Feathered boas and full, petticoated skirts hiked up high on the haunch.
Wantons wanting.
Rogues rutting.
Couples coupling. And more.
Stripping and whipping, and other stylish deviltry.
Pewter mugs hoisted. Toasts to fuel the steaming pleasures of the yeasty ale-tanged gilt-and-silver showers of pizzle upon the wry faces of brazen maids.
Licentious courtesans in Sapphic embrace. Their fuckstressing bodies in the abandoned throes of lesbic cunnilingus and flattyfuck.
"Mistress Jessica. You have the finest thighs in these new United States."
The dream-Jessica slung her legs about the hips of a rogue who looked like a face off a piece of change. She felt the tip of his pecker slide into her cranny over the head.
"Swive me, goodfellow," Jessica yowled.
"Such a bonny moll," he said.
She pulled her legs apart.
Drew his pecker right into her quim with vulval suction.
She felt his ballocks pack smack into her rump at the apex of each thrust.
"A roll in a moll," she said. "You really have it all, general."
"Aye, my lady. And this rogering cock will give you something too."
He gave her a ball.
The rutting stroke stoked her quim.
The cock was caught within. Strutting rut.
Balls bouncing against her hiney. The pricktip popped out. All wet and shiny.
A snippet of scum slid from the top.
Jessica reached up and gave it a stroke.
The hole of the dong broke open.
A startling stream of come lashed out into the air. Twisted in an arc.
The cords of come struck Jessica in the face. Snaggles of sperm nicked her cheeks.
Jessica leered and took a shot of semen in her teeth. Sucked in.
Coughed down the come.
The next dollop of male cream came at her like a pouncing wildcat.
Scum snared her nostrils.
Smutch smeared her eyelids.
She blinked, and a curtain of jissom clouded her vision with sugary blindness.
Jessica snorted, and the come crackled up her nose. Dripped down her throat.
Tingled in her tummy.
She licked her lips.
Come so yummy.
The spermy taste of the prickjuice combined with the saliva running in her maw. The shimmering prick belched more spume. Con-verted within Jessica's yip to her own special brew of sputum.
Jessica chawed her jowls.
Chewed come like a cow chewing cud.
She pursed her lips.
She spat out short spurts of saliva and sperm in slow pulses.
The cream hit her lover in the face.
Spread over him like icing on a cake.
She lathered her face with it. Ladling liquid come with her tongue.
Jessica sucked it up.
Then down the hatch with another batch.
Jessica jogged around the corner of her lickerish thoughts. She was running saline with sweat and ladyjuice.
She returned to her Depressionera abode. The apartment building was virtually tenement style. Out of place in the historic charm.
Come to think of it, not all the buildings around there were so enchanting. The structure across the street, another apartment building, looked like the kind of place that could seem like home to a gang of Hell's Kitchen Mollies and Micks from the early gangster era.
Even that had its own erotic angles.
Tommy guns exposed from splits in trenchcoats. Jessica was a moll in showgirl's drag.
Her boobs rolled over the tops of a lowcut sequined flapper gown.
Gangsterish thumbs roved within.
The titmeat stretched out of shape.
Then reaffirming themselves when he released his grip.
Fists pummeled the tits.
Jessica drove her knee between the trenchcoat split.
The bootlegger would become bootlicker.
He dropped to the surface of the cobblestoned alley. Lapped at Jessica's slipper-like booties. Sucked her legs.
Jessica snarfed down a silver flask full of bathtub gin.
Then relaxed her loins.
Fresh silver gin jets pissed out over the licking gangster's face.
"You fucking whore!" Jessica tittered like a flapper girl. More piss poured from her vertical grin. He rubbed urine into his chin. Guzzled some more.
"Call me that again," Jessica demanded.
She swiped a spot of piss from her slit. Wiped his nose with it.
"You heard me before-you fucking whore!"
She slid her labia up and down his nose.
"I don't mean to demean you," Jessica said. "But you've done it before."
"You calling me a whore? Ginks ain't whores. Jades are. Lessin' you callin' me queerboy."
"Maybe I am." He gave her a body slam.
"We'll see who fucks who," he said. "You're gonna love everything I do. And this is an offer you can't refuse."
He kicked her legs apart.
Her quim gave a start.
Fell on her body with a slump. Brought up his pecker to her body. Fucked into her rump. His ass began to pump.
When her rear window was warmed up, he stuck dick into her cunt in front. Boffing her from the back. Hound-dog style.
The street-smart cock tore into her.
Fucked her crack behind her back.
Slimed into her as she held her haunch in the air. Rutting on all fours.
A bitch in heat.
Fucked by barking dogmeat.
Gangster fucked moll in a pile.
They fucked in style-right in that little alleyway down the block.
Down the block and around the curve. Inside Jessica's mind.
Her head spun in the anxiousness of her sexual fantasies as she had stood, scratching her cunt, inside the elevator to her floor.
Now she glanced about her studio at the unpacked boxes full of books and clothing, bed linen and kitchen utensils stacked forlornly along the wall by the windows.
Jessica sniffed under her arms.
Made a face with wrinkled nose and pursed lips. The musky fragrance of her sliming underarms sniped up into her nostrils.
"Never get a man smelling like a barnyard," Jessica snorted to herself.
"But then," she continued telling herself, "real men don't like such prissy things. They want a woman who works, who can take a hit."
Jessica would prove that point. She gave herself something she could appreciate.
A straight-fingered karate stab beneath the boobs to her solar plexus.
Her tits jiggled.
Her cunt flared up.
"I like it rough."
Or would if she could get it.
She threw a fuck-look toward herself in the mirror. Flexed her tits.
Hardbody she had.
Men she had not.
She slipped the bowknot at the waist of her sweatpants. Held the pants up just beneath her navel as she turned on her toes to walk toward the stacked boxes.
She rummaged for a set of bedsheets and a pillow. Unzipping a suitcase, she spied laid diagonally on top a a pile of frilly panties her favorite dildo.
Spear-headed, of stuffed slick leather, the artificial cock had two heads.
It had a coiled shaft fully a yard long.
It was lithe, malleable.
And plenty stiff enough at the ends.
Stiff enough for the fuck.
To fuck oneself with.
It was a sociable dildo. .
For one could thus share the action with a partner, something Jessica had not yet done. Or one could heft one head of the dark leather dong into one's cunt.
Suck the other leather cephalus tip and then tuck it up the ass.
Jessica gripped the leather lingam in the middle. Twirled it like a baton.
She then reached in front of her to turn up the thin louvers of the Venetian blinds left, like the light dimmers, by the previous tenants. Probably because the blinds were the wrong size for their new windows.
Jessica's jaw dropped.
Her mouth went dry.
Who was that guy?
A peeping torn? Oh, great.
She moves into a new area of town. After spending months searching for an affordable apartment. And now, on her first night there, she sees some dude, wanger out, standing in front of his window watching her.
Jessica began to close the blinds.
Stopped.
What was she doing? Watching him.
That wasn't his wanger, anyway, waving between his' legs.
It was a hammer.
And he wasn't watching her.
Now Jessica could see him tapping the hammer along the bottom and sides of the window frame.
What was he doing?
She heard his grunt-from across the narrow street-as he shot his window up.
Unsticking his window.
Now leering at Jessica's tits.
And at the dildo she hefted.
Another glance told her the walls of his apartment were bare.
Like hers.
Was he just moving in too? With a start, Jessica discovered she was playing one head of her dildo between her tits.
The other end had drifted beneath her belly and was tapping her engorged pussy through the damp material of her sweatpants.
"Shit, dude," Jessica said. "Show some interest, at least."
She left the blinds at a half-open slant. Walked to the wall and dimmed the light a bit more.
No sense in giving him a clear peek at her gooey curled goodies. Not the first time. If he bothered to look.
Jessica shot her sweatpants down and peeled them over her feet.
She snapped her moist panties down. Raised her legs and kicked them off over her toes.
In the mirror, Jessica saw her damp thatch.
Matted with sweat from her run.
Labia streaked with the initial outpourings of her aroused quim.
Over her shoulder, she saw the male figure before his window.
He pushed a small desk or table into position in front of the open window. Was he nude yet? Didn't look it.
Jessica squeezed the thick leather lingam between her tits.
Rubbed the other head over her clitoris.
Took the top head between her teeth. Licked leather dick.
She saw in the reflection that the man in the window across the way had set up a box on top of the table he had situated in front of the window. And now another box was being fitted on top.
Jessica drew her eyes away.
From the reflected male in the window.
From the mirror image of her aroused body.
She lay the dildo on top of the Japanese futon mattress she would later fold down into her bed. Walked into the bathroom.
Jessica stepped into the shower stall and turned the water on.
Full.
Hot.
The needle spray tingled her skin. Scalds of the steaming water shot between her asscheeks.
Nailed her nipples. Dappled her pussy. Snipped her clit.
Warmed her arsepucker to the softness of wet tissue paper. A peeping torn. Did that turn her on? It did and it didn't. On one hand, it made her recoil. On the other, it made her thighs moist.
She must be frustrated.
Because she was making the dude a voyeur in her head-when she hadn't even seen him look! She soaped herself. Stroked herself.
Ran her fingers between her slit. Jammed a thumb up her bum. Wafted her clit with cupping actions of her curved palm.
The lather of the scented soap smarted her cunt-lips. It sang inside her asshole.
She was giving herself a good reamjob. Cleaning herself out.
Making herself squeaky-clean and presentable.
For her lover.
Herself.
In body-heat blindness, Jessica darted from the shower. Without drying herself off, she lurched into the wide studio space.
She spied her leathern dildo, waiting for her on the pink-patterned covering of her futon couch.
Jessica was fagged out.
Dying to fuck herself.
She got straightaway to the point.
Without bothering to make her bed, she flopped onto the cover of the futon.
She kicked her heels into the air. Brought her heels up to her waist.
Stabbed the stuffed-leather cockhead into her face.
Jessica embraced herself.
Took herself the way she thought she would want it.
Hard.
Jammed the cock down her throat. Tortured her gullet.
Twisted the dead meat about her belly.
Snagged the stiff twanger into her quim.
Bent the other end about.
Lushed it with her mouth.
Coiled it about her underbelly. Carried the carapace to her pucker.
Buckled her body.
Drove it in right up her ass.
Jessica heaved her haunch.
Fucking herself from both ends at once.
She thumbed along the rim of her nipples. Stroked the aureoles.
White breastmeat.
Firm and taut.
But also soft and creamy.
To her touch.
The smutch oozed from her puss. Drooled down into her rumpmeat. She beat her clit. Flipped her hips.
With her eyes drawn into slits. Peering through the slant of the Venetian shade.
The dude lurched into view. Sat himself down in front of the window. Eyes glued to the glowing box-like contraption on the table before him.
She saw him play his fingers on a keyboard.
Jack around on a joystick.
Playing computer games?
Or-it was possible, for in her fantasy Jessica knew he could be anything she wanted-a musician composing a synthesizer score.
Or a writer, at work late at night.
Bringing his midnight oil to the boil.
Of course.
Jessica dug the dildo deeper into her flesh. Fresh freshets of cuntcome washed through her cabbage patch.
Moistened her thatch.
She strummed the dong on up further into her anus. Bit into it with her sphincter lips.
If he was a writer-which he was in her dreams tonight-what would he be writing about?
If he were a peeping torn-of course!
The legendary Peeping Tom, the tailor of Coventry who espied Lady Godiva as she rode her white steed naked through the marketplace.
If the unknown figure was her Tom the Peeper, Jessica was Lady Godiva herself.
She remembered how the stories ran.
In some, Tom was fuck-blinded for his infamy. In others, he became her lover.
The lowborn and the lady.
He must have been rude, that Tom.
Scroungy as a tomcat.
Randy as a ram.
Going after the lady's puss.
He would surely have stripped her and whipped her. Fucked her mouth, ass, and cunt-not necessarily in that order.
"Good day, my lady."
"Oh, yes. Don't I recognize you from the marketplace? You are none other than Tom the Tailor-Peeping Tom, you are."
"Oh, my. I believe you do know of me."
"Why do you now assail my presence?"
"Your beloved, kind, and most-trusting husband, Earl Leofric, the lord of Mercia, has commissioned my services."
"How so?"
"As you know, your lord must make a journey of three days to Canterbury to confer with the archbishop on a grave matter-it concerns the conduct of nuns of the Order of Mercy. It seems they have none. And have been scandalizing themselves by their escapades-no different from any other maids, if I might observe."
"A matter of the highest order," Jessica Godiva said. "Those young girls have turned to thievery-they have been making off with the jewels of our knights while they sleep."
"As I too have heard. Your lord wishes you, his lady, to wear something to remember him by-while he is detained in Canterbury."
"And what does my lord wish me to wear during his absence?-I cannof hazard a guess."
"Why, a cunnikin, of course."
"Ah-those are the new chastity belts now all the rage in Roma and London town."
"The same. If" I may so measure my lady for the closest fit. It will be over before you know it."
Jessica Godiva reached under her skirts. She pulled a string and raised her gown and petticoats like satin shades.
Her Mound of Venus drooped before Tom's eyes.
"We'll attempt to take the size."
"This isn't working," Jessica said. "This jerking is sheer torture."
Tom rewound the measuring twine. He floated his finger down between his thighs.
His leathern codpiece had grown out into a long curved horn.
"Really," he said. "This is by far the surest method, mum."
He unlaced his crotch.
The codpiece floated out and up.
Bag of ballocks waved down nearly to Peeping Tom's knees.
Balls swayed in the breeze.
His cock was stammering out in his fist.
Lady Jessica Godiva took the taper in her ringers. Jerked her wrist.
The prick jumped in with a twist. Cock hitched Jessica's cunt. She hustled her arse. Shook dick in to the root. Pussy pulled it in as she squared off with a pump of her rump. Then yanked dong out as she threw her pelvis back.
Tom twanged his banger inside her fillet. Rubbed his ballocks along her legs.
He twisted as the lady squirmed. Worming his wanger inside her.
A chunk of come blew from his sac. The cackling jissom streamed into the once-chaste lady, hitherto forever in waiting.
Godiva's had been a marriage forced by convenience. Of benefit to her family's estate.
She had hardly had the taste of Earl Leofric's stinger in her honeycomb.
Indeed, when he had cajoled Godiva to make her naked ride, it was the only time during their marriage the lady had gotten off. When she had spied Tom's peeping eyes at her nudity. Her cunt had brimmed then. Though her wifely fealty to her husband told her not even to think at all. Now she was having a ball. As Tom the Peeper took a look inside her thighs with his one-eyed spyglass.
The semen frothed up in the lady's hair.
The snare of snatch soaked up wad after wad of come as it spat in.
And received his blessing of comedrops as it shot the last round into her navel as he had Shaken his cock out.
Tom twisted her quim open.
He gripped her slick lips between his thumbs and forefingers. Stretched her sexlips apart.
He curled his digits into a fist.
Battered her burbling quim.
"Oh, yes. I say."
"Oh, you like it this way. We must be sure with our measurements."
The walls of her labia were lanced by the fingernails of his forceful fist.
Her legs were forced apart as he slammed into her asshole too.
Two fists fucking her cuntlet and bum.
Tom's warped body digging at her face with its curving dong.
The wave of orgasm carried Jessica along.
She opened her peepers.
Glanced up through the shades.
He still wasn't looking.
What a face she made.
Jessica rose and walked loose-limbed to the kitchenette. She placed the hot-crossed buns she had bought for her dinner into the oven.
She drank down a mouthful of vitamins with some warm milk.
Then pulled her buns from the oven.
Warm buns.
Two of them together.
Like two buns of a fine arse.
She brought the soft warm things to her nose. Sniffed their yeasty goodness.
She sucked a piece of bun into her yip. The bun dissolved on her tongue.
The sugar-icing crosses melted into her lips.
As Jessica sucked and nibbled and chewed.
Warm yeasty buns.
With sugary asshole between.
Her tastebuds were dazzled as she came upon a small raisin. A currant-like a tiny clit or scrotum in her teeth. Candied slivers of citrus rind. Recalling the tang of rutsweat in her mind.
She felt the teeth at her own tush.
Tonguing her there.
Licking her liquid sugar snatch. Chewing her raisin and candied peels.
CHAPTER THREE
Bitches in britches, carrying switches. The outlaw cowgirl Jessie James rode high in the saddle. The curved metal saddlehorn frictioned her clit as she rode.
Her haunches posted with the gallop of the quar-terhorse mare. Driving her labia against the saddlehorn with each trot.
The moistness of her bluejeans dunked into twat. Slimed up saddle, thick with cowgirl juice.
Sylvania and Ginger May rode beside her on pinto and appaloosa. Their tits bounced as they fucked themselves on their own saddlehorns.
"Whoa, Nellie!"
Jessica James reined in.
She dropped off the side of her horse.
Opened her blouse.
Wiped the sweat from her tits with her bandana. Watched her all-girl outlaw gang do the same. She would like it if instead of rustling up the cattle they could rustle up some male cowhands.
Try some target practice.
Pistol shooting.
Bullwhipping.
Hunker down by the old campfire.
Body bump in the bedrolls.
Suckering knobs of hardbitten dong.
Deer-like quim and horny antelope playing.
Where seldom would be heard a discouraging word. Rawhide-lipped twat going home on the range.
Have a real gangbang.
"Wish we had some cowpokes to give us some pokes," Jessica jawed.
"Here come some, hon," Ginger May jagged out. "Riding hard on our hineys."
"This cowgirl doesn't have the blues," Ginger May cackled like a banshee.
"Let's rustle them cowgirls," one of the men said.
"Give them a real ride in the sage."
The cowboys drew up. Jumped from their equestrian mounts.
Jumped on the fillies.
Mounted them.
The cowboy on Jessica spat a chaw of tobacco down her chest as he coughed a kiss down her neck. He stank like the plague as he pushed his stiff Levi's down to his boots.
His polecat prick shot out like a drawn pistol. He pointed it at Jessica's heart.
Aimed it at her face.
"Now you take that there clothing off, ma'am. Before this here shooting iron goes off. I mean, accidentally, of course."
He had his balls in his hand.
The hammer cocked.
Finger on the trigger.
Barrel of his dong centered on her bearmeat. Jessica rubbed her eyes.
The scene vanished as she took a drink from her coffee mug.
She glanced out the office window.
The cigarette ad on the side of the delivery truck moved. Now she could see The lasso twirling about the riding cowboy's head.
She felt the lariat against her flesh.
The lonesome cowboy drew the noose tight about Jessica's neck. He tied her up like a calf and got out his prick.
As long as and as hot as a branding iron.
"You're not going to do that," Jessica said. "I'm not an animal."
"You fillies always act like you is!"
He brought his hot rod to her fanny.
The meat bounced off and in up Jessica's quim from the underside.
Her boobs pressed against the braid of the rope. Tits rubbing against twine.
Nipples strung out.
Knots tightening about the nippletips. Rope weaving up and down between her slitlips.
As she fucked her hips back and forth the rope shaved her deeper.
The cowboy fucked himself silly and rolled off Jessica as soon as he had unleashed his come. He groveled for some bearfat and oiled up Sylvania and Ginger May.
Jessica watched him as he fucked them in succession.
Another figure of solid stench rustled onto Jessica's tied form.
This cowhand was clad in longjohns open at the fly and butt. She felt his paws at her pussy. Mouth covering hers.
Jessica gagged.
Tongue halfway down her throat.
Then the cowhand rolled her around with him in the dust. Gave her a poke.
He loaded his sixgun into her yip. Tickled her tastebuds with it.
"I can't stand this," Jessica wept. "You reek like a polecat."
His breathe stank as he spoke. "You fuck like like a pussy. Smell like fish. I never bathe, I'm not one of your nancy-boy slickers from the big city."
"I'm going to vomit."
"Try it-with my poker run down your throat, the puke will never get up your neck."
The prick puked out grimy jissom.
The sooty semen sloshed down her throat in ten-gallon shots.
He was stuck down her throat like a mutt stuck in a bitch.
Her hips twitched.
Her cunt itched.
She stabbed her clit as she gobbled sour-cream come down her gullet.
He had her speared like a pullet.
Skewered on his barbecue spit.
The prick seemed to spume endlessly. Filling up Jessica's stomach.
Backing the jissomic puke up and into her nostrils.
She barfed out.
The cock gagged her more.
Jessica bit the prick.
"Yeow!"
The dong flew from her face. Specks of blood beaded on the prickhead. Vomit of gory come blanched from her maw. Splashed from her chin to her chest. Dappled her breasts like warm oatmeal. "You moldering bitch!"
The cowboy took a peep at the bite marks rimming the base of his pecker. The gore at its crown.
"I know just how to treat cuntmeat like you. Jes' like a woman. Jes' like a dog." The cowboy reached for his whip. Uncoiled it at Jessica's struggling flesh. The tip swiped Jessica's bound tit. Nattering the lush meat. Beating it to mealy foam. Snapped the nipple.
The niptip grew tiny and pointed. Like a dart. Hard as lead bullets. Hot as gunfire.
The bullwhip sneezed out again. Crack!
The nipples were thickened and crinkled. Wrinkled up to take another hit.
"Them there nipples you got lady sure seem to like the whip. And this here whip sure does like them tits of your'n."
Jessica looked over at where Sylvania and Ginger May fucked and sucked the lucky cowdude. On his back, Ginger May went down on dong.
Her straight tongue shellacked his pronghorn. Slathered his balls.
Ginger May knelt on his belly.
Hoss and rider.
She saddled his hips with her hiney.
Rubbed her clit against his horn.
She rose and fell as the dude bucked like a bronco. Prick angled out from her twatlips. Dripping with pussyjuice.
Ginger May stammered as she stroked his hammer.
Wrenched her loins.
Guided the horn into her quim.
Her fanny rustled and shook.
Taking the cockmeat like a fish on a hook.
Sylvania the outlaw cowgirl curled her pusslips over his mouthlips. Ran her asscheeks over his mouthcheeks. Took tongue in twat and bung.
They watched intensely, deep in their fucksuck, as the whip was lain on Jessica.
The leather laced through Jessica's pussy. Wrapped round her thighs.
Waaaarp!
The lash wrenched her flesh. Tore skin from her cuntlips. Jessica eyed the moving whip. The motion of love.
Snaking toward her once more. Slap!
It cracked across her face. Jessica tasted the snippets of blood on her face. Liked it. Licked it. Lapped it.
He was readying the whip once more.
He coiled it gently.
Threw it with expertise.
Just enough to graze her flesh.
Raise a few purty welts.
He whipped out again.
Brought the leather across Jessica's bunghole. The snapping tip smarted up her rectum. Speared her asshole.
Another whip action.
Snap!
Caught her clit.
The buzzing went up Jessica's spine.
Blasted white hot inside her brain.
She wanted to be hit again.
Now her girlfriends were arguing over the punishment to be meted out to their own cow-rustler. The dude was lain out, pecker spent, between their hungering groins.
Ginger May and Sylvania slapped each other's nipplebuds. Pawed each other's clits.
"You bitch!"
"You pig. You hogged' that come for yourself!" The cowgirls punched each other's pussies. Kicked out at cunt.
They ripped and clawed each other's breasts. Bit and spat.
Crawling over each other's flesh.
Stroking each other.
Gripping twatfur.
Boiling in orgasm.
Catftght at the OK Corral.
Leather bullwhip bit again at Jessica's clitbud.
Smack!
Smarted across her trap.
This time Jessica bit back.
She caught the whip in her yip.
The cowboy raveled it about her bod.
The length of leather entwined her bound body.
Jessica was helpless.
At the mercy of a bandit who had none.
He drew it tight about her neck.
Gave her a peck with his beak on her neck.
Yanked his wanger.
Gave it a stretch.
He flew into her again.
Crashing his cock into her face.
Stringing it down her body.
Stabbing in again below her waist.
They tumbled in a ball like human tumbleweed.
Suddenly a masked stranger rose up from the sagebrush. Fired off a silvery bullet from his lone wanger.
The masked peeper would save her. But she wished he would whip her as well as the other one had.
Her body was good. Her mind was bad.
The leather had bitten into her hide. She had welled gallons of cuntjuice from deep in her insides.
"Hot in here, Jessica?" Jessica jerked her eyes up. Alexander spoke again.
"You looked warm, Jessica. Is the heat working okay in here?"
"Just dandy."
"Okay. So long as I know. Any time it gets uncomfortable for you-let me know."
"Sure. What's up?"
"I just wanted to tell you-to thank you for that Lady Godiva piece."
"Oh, sure. I appreciate that. But, really, just part of my job."
"Well, it was more than that. I read it Friday night. Stayed here way later than usual, even. I thought the piece should go out as soon as possible. I would have assigned it to Roger to write up-but he took off early. Seems he had some domestic difficulty he wanted to set straight."
"Oh? Too bad for him."
"That story you wrote-"
"It was just research notes from the files."
"Well-it was better than that."
"Thanks again."
"I shortened it and sent a blurb based on it out on Friday. Then yesterday, when I was working at home, I made a few editorial changes. If you can glom onto some pictures to go with it, I think it can be a feature story-human interest, but not for small-town tastes."
Jessica was speechless.
"The subscribers will want a byline when they print it, Jessica. I'd like to use yours."
"M-me? M-mine?"
"Or a pen name, if you prefer."
"Omigawd."
"You turned in a very good job, my girl."
He placed his arm across her shoulders.
"Shit," she said.
She shook her head.
Tried biting her lips to stem the smile.
"What do you say, Jessica? Your name?"
"How about Jessie James?"
"Okay?"
"Make sure it's jay-eee-double ess-eye-eee. Jessie, not Jesse."
"Fine."
"Anything else, Alexander?"
"Maybe. I abhor office gossip, but I was wondering. Do you know if Roger has been having any extramarital affairs? Don't name names."
"Naw. No one ever talks to me about those things anyway. They know I'm not too amused by gossip either. So they don't bother."
"I was just interested-more than curiosity. I don't give a shit who fucks whom, you understand. But if it's affecting the life of one of my crackerjack reporters-then it becomes my business."
"I understand."
"Catch you later, Jessica."
"Oh, Alexander? Thanks once again. For the article. I'm sure you really helped it along."
"You're the one who gets the thanks, kid. If you get any more bright ideas-don't hesitate. I know some might not meet our customers' needs, but I'd like to consider them at any rate."
"I won't stay mum."
Jessica would not be a wallflower.
She might even gain power.
She was the kind of girl who thought feminism as such sucked.
Women's lib was a hyped-up bore.
But pussy power was worth fighting for.
Power and glory.
Right in the snatch.
Ginger May sniffed the air as she walked into the bedroom at Sylvania's digs. This was where Jessica had slept when she had been Sylvania's roomie, and Ginger May was sure she could still smell her presence.
Essence of Jessica.
"Yeah," Sylvania snotted out. "I can still smell it too. I dearly loved Jessica as a roommate, but that girl was a pee-eye-gee pig!"
"Like, don't be rude, doll."
"I don't know how else to describe it, Ginger May. She was always taking showers. Long ones. And afterward the bathroom smelled like a fishmar-ket."
"Oh, gag me with a fishbone, filly. Like, you gross me out."
"And here," Sylvania pulled out a long stick with a fur tip.
"You, like, wanta know what it is," Ginger May smarmed through her lips. "Got any hints?"
Ginger May tittered through her teeth. "Baby doll," she said. "Are you coy or what? That is fur for the furbag."
"Huh?"
"To butter your buns. With your own fishoil. Still don't understand? When you frig yourself off. You use the fur to spread the juice around your puss and up your ass. Layer it on your tits."
"Omigawd."
"Don't be such a teenybopper." Ginger May shoved the sides of her miniskirt up. Rolled down her pantyhose.
She popped the fur plume at her clit. "Ginger May!"
"Hey, teenybop. You know it feels good. Cmon-, Sylvania. You try it."
"I think that's awful."
"Yeah, you say so-but I can see your nipples are hard through your blouse."
Ginger May stabbed the stick at Sylvania's tits. Sylvania slapped it away.
"Omigawd," Sylvania repeated.
"You're a bop, all right."
Ginger May seemed proud that she had gotten a rise out of the sultry and exotic-looking Sylvania. It meant that Ginger May was, if not more experienced, at least less inhibited.
Sylvania looked hurt.
Ginger May would cheer her up.
Loosen her up.
That was Ginger May's favorite role. And she would play it to the hilt. Not that she played fair. She could hit below the belt. "Come on over, doll," Ginger May said. "I didn't mean anything nasty."
They kissy-faced.
Just two girlfriends.
Not just a couple of dykes.
"I know, Ginger May. It's just that Jessica was my roommate. I guess it's a surprise to know what kind of stuff she was actually into."
"It wouldn't be such a surprise if you knew how good it was."
"Maybe so. But I don't think I would like to use Jessica's personal things like that."
"Why don't we return it to her?"
"You aren't serious, are you?"
"Not right away. But soon."
"Omigawd, Ginger May."
"Hey, I'm just fucking myself. I won't mind if you watch. I even like it better that way."
The sweat seeped from Sylvania's scalp.
"You got any locoweed here, Sylvania?"
Ginger May stroked the animal hair across her belly. Angled it into her clitbud.
Spread her legs wider.
Sylvania got out a glasine container and took out two rolled reefers.
The two girls should be wired for the fuck by the time they went out to the discoteque to dig up some dicktail. But at this moment-the thought gave Sylvania a fresh chill-she thought they might not make it out tonight.
Or rather, that the two girls might be making it inside tonight. With each other.
Thinking about it like that, Sylvania couldn't see what was supposed to be wrong with that.
Women sucking women.
Women fucking women.
She joined Ginger May's smile.
Saw her run her eyes up and down Sylvania's still-clothed body.
And if they were both naked.
Rubbing their bodies together.
What could be bad about that?
"How about if I get us a couple of drinks, Ginger May? What'll you have?"
"Male come, if you got it."
Sylvania saw Ginger May slide the furball into her quim.
Ginger May toppled to the stripped mattress where Jessica had formerly rolled and jacked-off in her sleep. Sylvania stared openly at Ginger May's bared ass and ranting quim.
"I'll get some white wine. I like the shape of the bottle."
"I think I know what you mean, doll. When you come back, maybe you could help me get out of these pantyhose. Seem to be stuck to me."
CHAPTER FOUR
Puss in boots. Jessica James looked smugly into the full-length mirror. She saw her dripping snatch as a floating wedge above the cavalier-style boots that rose above her knees.
She had done her hair up to look like two tufted cat ears. With a howling mane hefted up and ratted out with mousse.
Her tits looked like cats' eyes. The aureoles she had outlined in rouge. Smeared the nippletips with opalescent glitter.
Her pussy she had plucked with tweezers to whiskery feline frills.
Jessica threw her head back.
Snapped a riding crop at the cleft of her arse. Flailed up her spine.
Giving her that edge of pain. The tears that made it all pleasure.
Tonight, Jessica had turned off all the lights in her apartment.
But had left the blinds wide open.
She could see that guy at work in his window. Evidently oblivious to Jessica.
After all, he probably couldn't see in at her, with the lights out. But if she eased toward the window, allowed the streetlamps to play gently across her lobes and globes.
She might appear to him-if he saw her-to be a vision of his dreams.
A ghostly vixen.
A figment of his mind.
Like the vampiric lamia of ancient Greece. These night-stalkers stole into men's sleep. Robbed them of their jissom.
The Hebrew Lilith-had she been Adam's demonic first wife, his doxy mistress when he was married to Eve? Or both?
Then there was the Roman succubus-the she-fuckstress night-sucker who survived in European dreamscapes well into Christian-dominated times. These ladies of the evening would gobble gonads during sleep.
It was the succubus who fostered wet dreams, or nocturnal emissions of semen in men and boys. Condemned by the church, to sleep with one was to damn oneself in sin.
But it could not be helped.
She fucked them at her whim-not on their wish.
Quite a dish.
Such a bitch.
But they were all legends.
Jessica James was real.
Then what was keeping her so prim?
If these imaginary beings got theirs, what was preventing Jessica from getting herself fucked? Life sucked.
Jessica didn't.
But, evidently, others did.
Jessica knew she was imagining it.
But it was so real.
Two young ladies were paying a visit to the man across the way.
They looked rather like Jessica's friends from the office, Ginger May and Sylvania.
They moved like randy cats.
Thomas, as Jessica now thought of her unknown partner in fantasy across the way-Thomas Valentine, a great but silent lover-pawed them as he kissed his guests hello.
The two women sat awfully close next to Thomas at his table in front of the window.
They drank from cups.
Coffee, tea-or something stiffer?
Their hands were out of sight.
Probably jacking him off.
Getting their clutches on him already.
"Who wants a suck?" Jessica thought she heard Thomas Valentine moan out into the night air.
"I do," Jessica mouthed silently.
She took the riding crop to her quim.
Delved it in.
She saw the two girls go down on Thomas.
One blew his prick.
The other gnawed at his gonads.
Took one ball in her teeth.
While the other licked his joystick.
"This cock goes down like clean country water, my lovely love."
"The balls are like baby doves-peepers, my dear. So elegantly feathered and fluffed. They love to be hugged."
Jessica saw her bring the ballocks to her mug. Drag them down her throat. Dredge them with spit. Rub them into her clit.
The other woman of no mercy had his cock by the thick throat.
She strangled it as it dangled. Crushing its neck in her womanish fist. And Jessica shimmied off into oblivion. Her cunt steamed. Pussyjuice streamed. Her eyes beamed.
The riding crop her asshole reamed.
She witnessed the women feeding upon the man.
Half-crazed at the thought.
Insane at the sight.
Jessica scratched her cuntfur.
Took hold of her clit.
Saw the two suckering mouths going at him. Taking her lover, Thomas Valentine. Now cocksucking and ballbiting. Now rimming his bum. Reaming him rigid. Stroking dong. Bobbling balls. He came off in a twist.
Rictus of pain on his face as he flipped like a fish. Jissom jumping into their lips.
They wiped their fangs with the backs of their hands.
Ran their tongues across their teeth. As Jessica herself was doing. Tasting the ammonia-scented musky sweat. Licking it from his balls.
Eating it from the space between the rear of his ballocks bag and his raised pucker.
Now his prick was again aroused.
Waving over their chewing maws like a flagstaff. Whopping their faces as they chomped.
The twanger twitched.
Jessica felt it hit her where she itched.
She brought the riding crop down upon herself again and again.
Her flesh raged.
She wanted more.
"More fuck!"
She bit her lips.
No sense in giving those two bitches any tips. Why did they not strip?
Jessica saw one grinning lance his nuts lazily with her fingernails.
She thereupon trailed her finger from his hung nougats to his buns.
The other waxed up her fingers with her saliva.
Wanting to frig inside him.
She pumped in with her thumb.
His crinkle flared.
His teeth bared.
The two women together stared. His prick jumped like a hooked marlin. They held it as their darling. Jointly, they moved their faces from his waist. Each one suckered a male nipple. Turned it in her teeth.
And Jessica could taste the rutsweat. Why were they not naked yet? Perhaps they knew more about Thomas than Jessica did. She watched them work. Cock jerked.
Armpits were covered with the feasting women's drool. Their jowls munched muscle.
Their clothed hineys bustled.
He stroked them through their clothes.
Slowly, together, the two women rose.
They pulsed their hips at his face.
Backed off and opened their legs.
Puling pusslips smacked open.
Red-lined vulva leered. Clitspasmed so loud Jessica could hear.
The man took hold of his twanger.
Then he lay back.
Calmly watched the two women strip. He jerked at his wanger. Lifted his balls. Sighed.
And witnessed their degradation. Of him.
Their arms wafted out.
Trailing the thin material of their clothing like batwings.
They covered his face with lace and see-through silk draperies. They opened up their fronts. Their hips swayed forth and revealed their cunts.
They shot their quims at his nose.
He snorted the heady juices up each nostril. Buried his dentition into their deltas.
Sucked their silt.
Hammered his thumbs at their clits. While alternately chewing their slits. One woman brushed her twatfur up his face. Muffling his ear.
The other hooked her hiney onto his hand. Asshole snapped onto his fingers.
Slid over his thumb.
Gripped his arm at the wrist.
She writhed in fistfuck of her fanny as her tongue lashed the air.
Her sister-in-fuck shoved her muck about his hair. Who, what where? Thomas Valentine did not seem to care. He jabbed and uppercut the one in the rear. Speared the other's peach with his stubbly beard.
The women's minds blazed. Their bodies seared. They whinnied in orgasmics.
The one wailer convulsed on his arm. Lining his wrist with her smarm.
The other wet dreamwoman fucked at his face. Displacing his chin with her vertical grin.
She wafted up in the air.
His teeth clattering on her pubic hair.
The two shaken women would have him again.
Went at him again.
Jessica could smell the rut rushing through their brains.
She saw them as they shook their tails. Threw their wet hair back like manes. Tossed their tits out into his grip. He throbbed their nipples. Turned their knobs.
The gauze-like clothing flew from the women's limbs. They looked like surreal figures.
Dancing in the moonlight.
The arc of the streetlamps.
Two vamps asuck on their very own living Valentine.
Women who were wonderful. Mysterious.
Known but unknowable.
Twin fuckstresses of the night.
Jessica felt them both well up within her.
She always wanted two mouths, two asses, two cunts. All the better to fuck and suck you with, Little Red Riding Hood.
Thomas was a wolf in wolfs clothing. No jive about that.
He watched the women strip themselves down, and Jessica imagined how they must feel.
If they were eminences of her imagination, they were the two Jessicas.
The one within her body.
And the one without a body.
There was something Jessica recalled about that construct. It was from-of all places-a class she had taken in college about Gothic literature of the nineteenth century.
These were sources therein for a whole rasher of later horror movies and psycholiterary excursions. The German Expressionist film The Cabinet of Doctor Cahgari was an early cinematic example. There was a Jewish version of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's Frankensteinian monster-the Golem from the ghetto of Prague. And turning into a werewolf or vampire, of course, as well as the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde characters-these were all redoublements of the self.
In these tales, one self was arguably good, even noble. The other was perhaps, therefore, not so good.
Which one was which, according to Jessica, was according to one's own ultimate desires. And the judgment thereto applied.
There was the chilling doppelganger-the shadowy double-walker of German romantic legend who stalked its own human form.
But Jessica saw her other self as a lickerish, coaxing doppelfokker-her fuckstress persona: The phantom fuckling Jessica had created of her own fantasies.
Unlike the eery tales of E.T.A. Hoffman and Heinrich Heine, or the music of Franz Schubert, where the doppelganger prefigured death, Jessica's doppelfokker, her fuckstress self, ordained the imminent reign of orgasm.
Jessica grinned at her literary conceit. Dreary it had been in the classroom. But it came in handy between the sheets.
Jessica came in her hand in sheets of cuntcome.
Grappling with her meat.
The womancome clotted out like fresh milk curds. She sniffed it in her nose. Ate it from her fist.
As Jessica fed upon herself, she felt the other Jessica grow strong.
She attained greater power within the sliming Jessica. Giving the girl new courage.
New soul.
New identity.
Jessica wondered how it would be said-intellectually. What did it feel like?
Jessica sensed the transition within herself as akin to those portrayed in poetic artsy ramblings. If she were to recite it, she would say:
"Jessica goes out to play. Plays with herself that fateful day. The fuckstress stalks her. Mocks her. Jessica is challenged to "act. To submit and to join. Now is the moment of decision. Jessica submits. Her disembodied doppelfokker assumes her body. Lifts her to another dimension. That of fuck and suck and fuck some more."
Jessica smacked her lips.
Licking her own muck.
She tried remove the riding crop from her quim, but it was stuck.
She heaved her hips.
Began to buck.
Jessica fucked Jessica, who fucked herself.
Those fools across the way were now acting on their own. Out of Jessica's control.
Thomas Valentine had them both naked on their knees. His wanger sprayed glittering golden strands onto their hair. Watered down their faces with a piss glaze.
Jessica shoved her fingers into herself. Her own piss spumed forth. She watered her own groves. Peed her legs down to her toes. Jacked her hips high. Piss rolled past her boobs. She dragged her piss-dripping hair across her face.
Blind in self-fuck.
Moonstruck.
Pissdrunk.
Jessica stroked herself through the haze. Nothing fazed her. Nothing would dare.
The two women over there couldn't care. And who else would?
Thomas Valentine pissed them down. Drenched them from stem to stern.
He bent over each of them. Fucked on their piss-soaked bods. Sliding dick up their cunts. Bothering their bottoms.
Then Jessica broke into antic laughter as he beat them with bundles of rods. Held flames to their nipples.
The two women creamed.
Screamed as he reamed them with the wooden rods. In their backsides.
Stuck in their cunts.
They rolled on the floor before him.
Mouths drawn back in gleeful spasms that barely resembled smiles.
Thomas flailed their sweat-streaked bods with his rods. Broke them in bareback.
Jessica felt her body fly through the air.
Among them-in the apartment-she could see herself there.
On top of the man.
Among the women.
She smelled their ooze.
Ate them.
Tasted them.
Took hold of his twanger in her teeth and tasted the women there, too.
The dank fur of his ballocks wiped Jessica's chin as she took the dick deep within.
The thrust of his honker broke her neck. Jessica spasmed her thighs.
Blinked her eyes.
Croaked as she choked down come.
The pecker was now in her bum.
Her arse was rumproast on a spit. Prick spearing her from asshole to clit.
While he rutted her from behind he crinkled her tits. Bit her spine.
Sending her acrawl in slime.
Of course Jessica's two revenant rivals were at first red-eyed with depraved jealousy. Jessica smiled with new self-assuredness. The corruptness of the other women's desires were only too-well known. Her own were hidden in her anonymity.
As Jessica fucked Thomas, they brushed her hair with their furry bushes.
Of course they gave her tresses the once-over with their scented urine.
A sisterly favor.
They had noshed upon artichokes, asparagus and broccoli for brunch. Drunk down chamomile teas. Sucked saffron-colored sweetmeats.
Their piss would bleach the daunting Jessica's hair to a gilt-blonde.
Her cunthair would glow like a golden heart, dripping silvery, pearly cream.
Yes, they loved her. In a feminine, womanly fashion. Not like a couple of bulldykes.
When she had drunk their piss. Anointed herself with their oils.
After they had kissed.
They loved Jessica for loving their lover.
Fine for a fantasy.
Not likely in flesh.
Jessica blanked out into the black-and-whiteness of orgasmic delirium.
Seconds, minutes, hours-daze. Did she doze? She supposed.
Jessica emerged from her daze. Through the haze, she saw that Thomas was now alone.
He was standing before his opened window. Clearly naked.
Wicked dong spearing out from beneath his belly.
Ballocks blowing in the night breeze.
Jessica's sweat began to freeze.
Was he staring at her puss in boots?
Her whacked-off, jacked-off fur, still stiff with her drying piss and sweat and rutjuices.
Spread wide open for him.
Dripping with her own come.
Purring pusslips.
Mewing asshole.
Waiting for the tomcat tail.
"Scat, cat," she murmured. "Out of here. Unless you want to fuck."
She closed her eyes to the reality.
And Jessica James drifted-alone, she thought, for a moment, in her dreams.
Her cunt creamed. Her eyes juddered open. "Aiiiii!"
She screamed aloud. Screamed and screamed again. "Waiiiii! Eee-augh!" She saw Thomas Valentine had vanished from her sight.
In a panic, she draped her bare boobs out her window. Looked down to street level. Saw her peeping torn lover stride easily from his apartment building down the street.
She threw on a thick brocade kimono over her high boots.
Walked out the door to her digs.
Dug in her heels.
Saw his ass disappear around a corner ja. block ahead.
Jessica speared her heels into the cement. She was the huntress. She gave chase.
CHAPTER FIVE
Twanger in twat was what Jessica had not. To have and to hold was what she told herself. But still, in her private sexual domain, it was Jessica who had herself and held her own clit. "Shit!"
The telephone rang. Abrupt end to dreams. Interruption of cream.
Jessica awoke jerking off. Mouthing obscenities, she crawled toward the jangling telephone.
Sure, she could let the answering machine do its job.
But the fragile spell was broken. "Good morning, doll."
"Oh, Ginger May. What time is it? I'm sorry-I must sound awfully irritated. But it's not you. I'm a little confused."
"It's okay. It's five o'clock."
"So early?"
"Scuse me, dudesse. Like, five pee em, sis. You know, after the afternoon?"
"Guess I slept through a day of work. Was anyone jizzed off about it? I mean, I didn't even call in sick or anything."
"It's, like, no reflection on you, doll. But nobody noticed too much. All sorts of freezes and squeezes going on. Phones went out. Computers down. Everybody bonkers."
"I still can't believe it. I have the clock set so the alarm is automatic every day. Must have slept right through."
"Had a fresh night-this last one, no?"
"Uh-no. I mean-Cheeses H. Christmas. Why can't I remember? That's frightening. I hope I don't flip out. Now I'm afraid."
"Say hey," Ginger May cackled. "Hang on. Me and Sylvania will be over like a chill."
"That's awfully kind. But don't feel that you have to. I'll-I'll be okay." Jessica thought. Hoped.
"Jessica, doll. Sylvania has some of your stuff you left behind at her flat when you made like splitsville. We'll drop it by. Wanna dine with us two hussies tonight?"
"All right."
"Keep a stiff upper clit. And watch the outer and inner lips. Catcha!" The phone clicked off. Jessica wiped her brow. Her hair was wet as a mop. Last night. What had happened? Jessica jerked her clit and remembered.
* * *
It had been the two Jessicas united as one. The stalker, night-walker, her fuckstress self-and the mundane Jessica, the one who only fucked herself, come together in the night.
In her heavy kimono, with nothing on underneath save her puss in boots, Jessica had pursued her will-o'-the-wisp wanger Thomas Valentine through the narrow streets of the village-like neighborhood embedded deep in the dark heart of New York. Jessica sighted him entering a small, cozy-looking bar. She peeped in. Shot her eyes away. Sucked in her stomach.
Drilled her orbs again through the dark-tinted glass. Scanned the joint to make certain.
Turned away immediately.
Now she was sure, but she couldn't say why. Often, all the patrons of a given bar at a given hour would be male.
But this hangout seemed somehow distinct. She said it to herself.
The place was gay.
Shaken, Jessica turned and ambled into the drinking spot across the street.
She sat at the bar.
Blew bubbles in her drink as she looked out the window. Watched the doorway to the lively bar across the street.
For Thomas Valentine's exit.
A tiny big-boobed chick popped up to the bar. Sat next to Jessica. She waved a crystalline martini glass in front of her face and slurped down a tiny dollop of joyjuice.
Shoved her hips into Jessica's.
The girl curled her tongue into her drink.
Rolled the olive of her martini out toward Jessica on the tip of her tongue.
Withdrew the olive into her maw. Blew it back into the drink. "Hiya, sweet-tart."
Jessica kept her peepers peeled toward the bar across the street and replied sullenly. "Hello."
"Aw, don't be so lonely, baby dolly. Got a butt you can share?"
"Haven't we all."
"Tee hee hee. I mean a fag-a smokestick. A ciggy-ciggy to suck on."
"Menthol okay?"
"Any time. Menthol gives me a buzz."
"Here."
"Thanks."
"Light?"
"If you can spare one."
"Sure."
The tiny big-titted one bent into the flame of Jessica's lighter. "I'm Consuela."
"Jessie here."
"Glad to know ya."
"I'm sure."
"Maybe we could get to know each other a little better. I'd like that. How about you, honeypie? You like to dance?"
Jessica reaffirmed her gaze on the place across the street. How long had it been since Thomas Valentine had entered?
Had she missed him when he had left? Lost him. Lost his tail.
Consuela was whispering on. "We could make a team. You and me. Or I gots lots of friends if you want. Do the tango. Have a ball."
"Sorry. What?"
Jessica placed a palm on the bar counter. Tapped her fingers. Took it back. Safe in her lap.
Where Consuela then clutched it. "Wanna love me, baby doll?" she said to Jessica. "I could love you."
"Pardon me?"
"You know. You makes the love to me. And I loves you right back."
"You want me to fuck you?"
"If you want to, I wants you to." Jessica felt her quim turn to glue. "I'm afraid-"
"Or I fucks you. Anything you wants. Like I says, I gots friends."
"So do I. I'm meeting-"
"Great. Fifty a crack for both of you."
"I'll buy you a drink."
"No thanks, sweet-tart. I gots me a drinkie already, but I might use another olive. I's better be bouncing on. Like, some of us has to work for a living. So long, baby dolly. Maybe next time?"
Just then, Jessica spied Thomas Valentine coming out of the bar across the street. He carried a thick brown envelope, larger than legal size, which Jessica had not noticed before.
Jessica made ready to follow him up.
But he walked straight across the street and into the bar where Jessica sucked on a sherry. Jessica looked about cocked her ears.
Thomas Valentine was the only man here.
The muscular female bartender nodded her head toward him.
He walked without looking at Jessica into a back room.
After Jessica had started her second drink, and fended off her third lesbo strumpet, she saw Valentine emerge. She tried to get a good look at him, but did not want him to get a good look at her face.
She braced herself.
Turned her head about.
Saw him staring at her face.
He held her glance for a moment.
Jessica parted her lips.
Snapped them shut. She had feared that she had been about to speak.
His vision shifted slightly. Maybe he had not really seen her. Had not actually given her a look. Not recognized her at all.
She followed his haunch with her eyes. So far as she could see, he was not returning home. What was he, a shakedown artist? Or a freelance accountant who specialized in doctoring the books for the fag parlors and lesbo hangouts?
Jessica decided that she had enough of her doppel-fokker night-stalking act for one night. She sipped her sherry, watched a demimondaine female folk singer take off her clothes on a small stage as she played a harp.
The other women swooned.
Jessica thought she was not bad.
In the bod.
But hoped she could suck better than she sang. For an instant, Jessica combed the room, homing her eyeballs in on likely pickups.
It was a mind game of hers, of course. Was it the sherry?
When she returned home, Jessica turned her blinds closed. She made up her mind that she would no longer observe her fictional lover across the way. Thomas Valentine was gone from her life.
She had nearly flipped out over the edge.
All through warped fantasy.
It was time to see some action.
In the flesh.
Jessica then opened up a bottle of wine. Fucked herself with the neck and drank the dreck down her throat. Opened up another bottle.
Tottered off to visionary Stardust.
And then-was that the phone ringing?
"Shit!"
"Good morning, doll."
"Oh, Ginger May!"
Make my day.
Read my lips.
Let's us girls finally kiss.
* * *
"Like, Jessica. This apartment of yours is so totally awesome-I can't believe."
"Thanks, Ginger May."
"Omigawd," Sylvania said as she and Ginger May swaggered in. "Your place is for real. A beaut. Small-but oh so sweet."
"With all these plants in here," Ginger May giggled, "it reminds me of, like, the Garden of Eden. Or was it Babylon? I was, like, Eve, you know-in a previous life."
"Really?" Jessica joshed.
"What word do you go by?" Sylvania teethed with a sly grin.
Ginger May stuck her tits out, proud and dart-tipped. "I saw it in a crystal."
"Crystals of some designer drug, no doubt," Jessica mewed.
"Well, like-the crystal was a little fractured," Ginger May allowed, "but everyone I saw in there was nude."
Sylvania and Ginger May combed the place with their eyes.
"You gonna open them blinds?" Ginger May tittered. "Let us see all the people who watch you fuck. Or who you watch fuck."
"Ha ha ha," Jessica said. "Drinks?"
"We brought you some," Sylvania said.
"And a few numbers of locoweed," Ginger May snickered. "You liked it the other day-right, doll? have a drag."
Jessica choked down smoke.
Went for her cigarettes and lit a tobacco stick. Took a glass from Sylvania's hands.
"You women of leisure," Sylvania snorted. "What did you do all day. Jerk yourself off to soap operas and rock videos?"
"Slept."
"With yourself?" Ginger May slid it in like a spoken stiletto.
"What happened to you pussycats at the office today?" Jessica jeered. "Sounds like a lot of rough stuff went down."
"Nothing," Sylvania said. "Both Alexander and Roger were drunk all afternoon."
"Both of them made-uh-like, you say advances on this here dudesse."
"Don't be so smug, Ginger May," Sylvania smarted off. "I fucked both of them yesterday. Right in their offices. Roger from the rear over his chair. Alexander from the front on his rug."
"Fucking lying bitch!" Ginger May snotted. "Break it up," Jessica joked. She gave Sylvania a poke. Her tits bounced.
"Say, Jessica. I liked that. Do it again. Right on the nipple gives me a whirl."
Jessica lanced her finger into Sylvania's breast. Without looking at the bounce of titflesh, Jessica got up and went directly to her window.
Slanted open the blinds.
It was still light enough.
Didn't need the lights on to see in.
Jessica turned and faced Sylvania and Ginger May. She raised her glass.
Led the toast.
"To us."
Their glasses clinked.
Arms went about shoulders and waists. They all played kissy-face.
"Oh, Jessica," Sylvania said. "Before I forget. Here's the stuff you left at-uh-my pad."
She hoisted a large paper bag toward Jessica. It was lightweight. Something long and limber rattled within. Jessica went white.
Felt her clit ignite.
"Thanks," she said.
Without bothering to look inside.
"Don'tcha wanna see what it is?" Ginger May said. "Oh-like, you already know."
"Shut up," it sounded as if Sylvania whispered into Ginger May's ear.
"What's that?" Jessica said.
"Hey, Jessica," Ginger May said. "You know Sylvania and I must have looked it over. We know what it is. What we don't know is what it can do. Me and Sylvania wondered if you could, like, do a little bodacious show-and-tell."
"Just among us girls," Sylvania said.
"Maybe so," said Jessica.
She unwrapped the thin flexible cane. Wet the bearfur tip in her yip.
Drew it across Ginger May's lips. Swathed Sylvania's mouthcheeks with saliva.
"Oooooh," Sylvania said. "Feels alive."
Jessica grinned gently.
"Feels better than that," Jessica said.
"I'll bet," Ginger May said.
She stabbed out a reefer in an ashtray. As she bent, her miniskirt rode up past the crack in her ass. Jessica watched.
"Yes, Ginger May, it does lots of fine things," Jessica said. "Want to go first?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Okay. Sylvania, get up her skirt."
What was she saying? Which Jessica had suggested that? But there was only one Jessica now. And the responsibility for her acts was hers.
"You want me up her skirt?" Sylvania asked. "You mean, lift it up?"
"Yes," Jessica replied confidently. "And roll her tights and panties down."
"I'm not wearing panties. I like the seams in the stretch material to mat in my snatch. It's like fucking off all day."
Jessica glanced back over her shoulder.
The structure across the street, several windows aglow in the early twilight.
Jessica sensed the appearance, the apparition that was her Valentine.
Shadowy movement in the first dark velvet of evening falling like a cape over the sky.
She got a take on Thomas Valentine's reflection in one of the large mirrors she had scattered about her studio. Yes, he was there.
Standing in the window.
Shirt open.
Hair swirling about his nipples.
Jeans halfway zipped.
So, he was watching now.
Jessica would give him a show.
"Better take it off me," Ginger May said as Sylvania handled her miniskirt.
Sylvania unsnapped the waist, and Ginger May's tiny skirt fell away to the floor, looking no larger than a swatch of tissue paper. Ginger May's jersey rode up past her bellybutton.
Revealing her ribcage and the bottom slices of her tumbling boobs.
Jessica saw Sylvania lick her chops. "Eeeeeh!"
Ginger May squealed as Sylvania took hold of the waist of the tights.
Sylvania held the tight leggings stretched out from Ginger May's ass. Ginger May wiggled her nude pubis into the open.
"Now what?" Sylvania said.
"We'll cream her," Jessica said coolly.
She couldn't believe what she was doing. Even yesterday, she wouldn't have had the courage, the guts. Or she didn't know she did.
"What do you want me to do?" Sylvania said.
"Hold her legs."
"Why? You aren't going to torture the poor girl, are you?" Jessica did not answer.
She drew the twanger back. Flailed the fur tip at Ginger May's navel. Worked it in. Ginger May winced.
Jessica dragged the dipstick down lower. Toward Ginger May's twat.
She nicked Ginger May's clit. "It tickles," Ginger May syruped. She contorted her face. Giggled.
Spasmed her legs together.
"Keep her legs apart, Sylvania."
"Righto."
Sylvania stretched Ginger May's tights down past her knees. The material hung from Ginger May's ankles as her legs splayed wide.
Her pussy opened like an astonished maw.
Jessica dipped the fur knob into Ginger May's free-running quim.
Plunked Ginger May with the twanger.
She dragged the labia farther apart.
Shook the puss like jelly.
Jammed the twanger in.
"Oooooh!"
Ginger May writhed her thin thighs. Sucking up the furball deeper.
Her clitoris buzzed in the midst of her forest. She flailed her clit maniacally.
Jessica played Ginger May like a marionette. Twanging her twat.
Watching Ginger May's limbs curl up and release like a crab.
With her fingers jarring her clit, Ginger May got off easy.
She snapped her head back.
Humped herself on the limber twanger.
Eased into the waterfall of orgasm.
Sylvania turned toward Jessica.
She pointed to her own belly and spoke.
"Now strip this chick."
"Ginger May," Jessica said. "You go to it on Sylvania. I'll handle the magic twanger."
Jessica witnessed Ginger May crawl, ass high, cunt adrip, toward Sylvania.
She removed Sylvania's blazer from behind her. Opened her blouse while kissing her cheek and neck. Reached in.
Sylvania swooned as Ginger May grasped her boobs. The two girls fell to the floor.
Sylvania's skirt had vanished.
She lay on her back before the kneeling Ginger May clad in lacy bra, garter belt and stockings, high-heeled pumps.
And there in the center was her purring pussy.
Hairless.
Calling out in helpless silence. Her lips thickened and reddened. Jessica came closer to the cunt-Bent to have herself an inside view. The lips parted. Jessica sniffed snatch up into her nostrils.
"How do you like the shade?" Sylvania said. Jessica jerked her head around. She had forgotten about Tom the Peeper Valentine. She saw him sitting by his window. Pants off.
Stripped to hard masculine nakedness. But deep at work within a pile of papers and books.
"The shades are okay as they are," Jessica said.
Ginger May broke into laughter. "No, doll. Sylvania means the shade of her lipstick."
Jessica examined Sylvania's face.
"Love the color," Jessica said.
"No, silly girl," Sylvania said. "I should be specific. Lipstick. Not for the mouth. For the other lips."
"Cuntlipstick," Ginger May giggled.
Jessica twanged the furball between Sylvania's depilated labia.
"I love the color of your pussylips," Jessica said. "How did you do it, Sylvania?"
The lacy doily of Sylvania's garter belt framed the glistening, whispering quim.
"You can't use mouthlipstick. But I mix rouge with some wax depilatory. Might not work for you-if you have a lot of hair on your twat."
"I just trimmed it," Jessica said.
"Let's have a look," said Ginger May.
Jessica opened her kimono-the same one she had fallen asleep in the previous night. Her tits gleamed, her snatch smutched.
Her pusslips jumped to Ginger May's touch.
"What do you think, Sylvania?" Ginger May said. "Not too much hair there."
"I'll try it," Sylvania said.
She rose on her haunch, took hold of the twanger. Kept it in herself as she milled about in her pocket-book. Sylvania took out a makeup compact, Flipped open the mirrored case.
Jessica's eyes cruised to Thomas Valentine's window. He was still seated, but his head was turned. Eyes at Jessica's slanted shades.
Looking in at the maidens.
Jessica's skin crawled.
Sylvania applied the coloring stickum to Jessica's labia with the tips of her fingers. Rubbing smoothly.
"Looks dandy," Sylvania smacked.
"Chillout time," Ginger May said. "Can you do the other side, Sylvania?"
"Lift your legs, Jessica," Sylvania said. "There, now I see your rosebud."
Sylvania's fingers were at Jessica's asshole. The wrinkle opened like a blossoming flower as Sylvania ran her rouged fingers around the rim. The blowhole eased open.
Sucked in a thumb.
"Oooooh!"
"Easy on her, Sylvania." Jessica began to thrust.
With her thumb in Jessica's bum, Sylvania flagged the frilly quim with her opened palm. KNeaded the cuntlips.
Pussjuice spilled out.
Smeared her thighs.
Ginget May began to rise. Then swooped down onto Ginger May's belly.
She straddled Jessica with her fanny glued to her navel. Her asshole kissed Jessica's bellybutton as she humped.
Ginger May ran her hands down the side of Jessica's body. Rolled her palms over the curved thighs and up again to the armpits.
"Ah."
Ginger May then fondled Jessica's tits. Turned them in her fists. Gave them both a twist. "Eeeee-eh-ek."
Ginger May ran her mouth over Jessica's face. Tongued down her neck. Dropped her jaw and filled her mouth with nipple.
"Unh."
Ginger May teeth gnashed into Jessica's cunny. Chewing meat and drinking honey.
Jessica floated her gaze across the way. Peeping Thomas was facing her way. Legs spread open.
Cock sticking out from his bag of ballocks. Long dick sticking up past his navel.
It looked as if he could blow himself if he had a hankering to-his cockstick was so long. Slung between his palms as he jacked down.
Then jerked back up to the head.
Ginger May hiked herself up Jessica's body as Sylvania chewed out Jessica's crotch.
Sylvania inched another finger inside Jessica's rim. Corkscrewed it up.
"Eaugh!"
Ginger May spread her thighs over Jessica's face. She dripped her pussjuice from her lips onto Jessica's outstretched tongue.
Jessica stared at the wide-open womanflesh and saw herself. The elaborate labyrinthine labia-the maze of her mind.
And what was the power of myth?
What was at the center of every maid's labyrinth? Her Pandora's box?
Or was it the Minotaur that was the surprise. Jessica saw the Minotaur-a creature half man, half bull, with double-horned head and pullulating penis. Jessica had always thought it would be better the other way around: Man's face, ox-sized dong. But in the language of myth, perhaps that is what it had always meant. And the centaurs-men's visages and hung with stallions' dongs. Symbols of fantasies of women and men alike.
Like Thomas Valentine.
Jessica saw him clearly now. Standing up at his opened window. Naked belly pushed out. Cock stranded in his hands.
Hips weaving.
Ballocks quaking.
Jessica felt the girl at her cunny and bum. Saw the snatch smacking before her face. She closed her eyes. Opened her mind.
Jessica's tongue darted forth like an attacking ser-pent. It slashed into Ginger May's briny ferment. Tongue tormented the seaweed-flavored foliage as Ginger May rocked back and forth.
Fucking her face.
As Sylvania jawed her jimjam.
Jessica saw the dark pecker of Thomas Valentine stuck out of his window. He hacked away at his wanger with a grimace carved into his jaw.
Ginger May rolled her pussy back, up, and out of Jessica's mouth.
She rearranged her fanny. Split the cheeks wide, and loaded her asshole in.
Ginger May played with her clitoris as Jessica shot her tongue into Ginger May's ass.
"Oooooh. Feels like you're all the way up."
"Omigawd," Sylvania bopped. "Don't tell me, Jessica-you're a virgin?"
Jessica looked down at Sylvania's dripping maw. It was awash with cuntcome and clotted with little specks of blood.
"I don't have a cherry. I mean-I must have popped it somehow already."
"But you are unfucked, doll?" Ginger May said as she slid off Jessica's face.
They both raced at Jessica's quim. Tongues digging in deep.
"Guess my period's early," Jessica said.
"Tastes like it," Ginger May said. "I want to drink it all up."
Jessica saw in the surrounding mirrors how she must look to the masturbating Peeping Thomas who was now to be her lover.
The two girls were crouched over her cunt like vultures. Flapping their arms. Attacking every inch of her flesh.
Jessica wrenched her haunch.
Sylvania pulled her mouth away. Her cheeks and chin were streaked with gore.
Ginger May worked her fingers inside Sylvania's denuded pussy and frictioned her clit against Jessica's thighs.
Both rutting women followed Jessica's eyes.
"That what you're looking at?" Sylvania said.
Jessica nodded her head.
"Like, Jessica? You knew all along. That dude-like totally awesome."
Thomas Valentine sent back his head. His nuts and prong hung out over the edge of his windowsill. The ballocks rumbled and shook.
A cascade of come curtained the air.
Pearlescent in the mix of moonlight and street-lamp, the semen arced through the air with a rainbow effect.
Snapping curlicues of jizz fizzed into the night Followed by a shimmer of sparkling pizzle.
Jessica heard some voices from the street.
"The fuck?" he said.
"It's sticky." she said.
"It's a drizzle. No big deal. No more than a mist. Lighten up."
"Fuck you, dear. Look up."
"Shit."
"Here. Taste it."
CHAPTER SIX
Piss-doused labia lurched inside Jessica's mind. Her tongue fluted the hairless twat. The other one's clit frictioned against hers.
And Thomas Valentine jacked his sperm onto Jessica's tits. Rubbed it in.
Suddenly the office came back at her. Or she came back to it.
"Sorry to interrupt you, Jessica," Sylvania said without a hint of embarrassment. "Here's another assignment from the news deck."
"No problem."
The two girls were silent for a split second too long. Sylvania spoke.
"That was great and very loving-what we did last night, Jessica."
"I know that. And I appreciate what you and Ginger May have done for me."
"Uh huh. But there's something else. Something we want to do for you."
"Oh?"
"Fun among us girls is plenty fine indeed."
"I agree."
"But now a cock is what you need."
"It may be too soon."
"For what?"
"I am kind of uptight."
"The only way to get over that is to work through it. Believe me. More flesh is what you need. Not less."
"Hey, girls," Alexander said. "Sorry to bust this confab up, but I have to talk with you."
"Any time," Sylvania winked at Jessica. "Don't be shy."
Alexander looked away from Sylvania. "Please come into my office, Jessica," he said. Sylvania watched them warily.
Alexander held the thin stack of paper Jessica had submitted at the end of the previous week. A new proposal for a story.
"I'm afraid this one just doesn't work, Jessica. Not that it couldn't."
"Oh. You're saying that Godiva bit was just beginner's luck?"
"Not at all. Your instincts were right. But you might not realize what exactly made it right."
"Uh-"
"You took off on a story from the news wire. That way you had it tied into a current-or recent enough-event. On the other hand, this piece about a spooky lady who prowls downtown New York after midnight is more like-a short story."
"It's not made up."
"But it has no news tie-in. That's what I'm saying. Maybe if she were arrested for rape, murder-anything newsworthy."
"You think I should trash it?"
"As it is, yes."
"No problem."
Jessica was silent. She was starting to cry, but bit her lip. It hurt.
Turned her on. "Say, Alexander."
"Yes."
"If I juiced up that piece with a lot of detail-no, wait-if I strip it down, it might go into one of the pulp tabloids."
"Those supermarket rags don't pay stringers very well. But you might try it on your own. Just take out all the adjectives and adverbs. If you could interview her and get a couple quotes-"
"I think I will."
There was a rap at the door.
Roger peeked in.
"Say, chief. Oh, hi, Jessica. I hear I got some new competition in the reporting arena."
Jessica blushed. "Not from this girl."
"That's not what I hear," Roger said.
"It's only one feature," Jessica demurred.
"But it's a start," Alexander added.
"And a mighty impressive one, if I do say so," Roger said. "Listen, Alexander. There's something that just came in-a ways out of my line."
"What?"
"Big-name protest. Convocation on women and censorship. Literature and crime and freedom of the press and a lot of other shit mixed in. I can do the initial piece today-but it might be an idea for a series of articles. Syndicate them to a lot of the local papers, maybe Sunday magazines."
"You know," Alexander said. "One of the problems with a gig like this is that-in addition to the research-a whole team would be needed to cover the story. If it's that big."
"More like a convention," Jessica said. "Supposed to be. I read about it. It's going to be in London-isn't it?"
"Yeah," Roger shot in.
"Quite an expensive jaunt," Alexander muttered. "I don't know if it would be worth the financial expense to the bureau. I mean, the big companies have a leg up on us there."
"Sounds exciting," Jessica said. "The expense could be kept down a little if the crew was small and all shared a suite or two."
"That okay, Jessica?" Roger said.
Alexander stroked his bristly chin.
"You up for it, Jessica?" Alexander said.
"Up to the hilt."
"Let me think on this," Alexander said. "No, wait. Jessica, tell Sylvania to book roundtrip passages between New York and London and make reservations for five at the Mayfair Hotel."
Jessica mentally selected the five bods most likely to go. Her eyes lit up.
Cunt streamed alive.
* * *
"Sick sex is always the best," Jessica told herself while the others slept.
Budget flight. And it was true they were all on their way. She had to admit, though, that an overnight tourist-class flight from New York to London was not her preferred cup of tea.
No kicks tonight, she grimaced, looking once more at the man sitting just across the aisle from her. She felt her pulse quicken. Ladyjuice thicken. Beginning to trickle ticklishly from between her temblant twatlips.
Jessica rubbed upward with her thumb across her nipple. Brought the glass of champagne to her mouth. She watched the dark-haired man across the aisle dare to glance at her, batting his shiny dark eyes.
Of course Suzanne understood why the dark man looked at her the way he did. He was her neighbor. Not only her neighbor at home. He now sat across from Jessica on an international flight.
If Jessica had planned it, it would never have worked. But there sat Thomas Valentine-if indeed that was his name.
Maybe she would ask him.
Or maybe she would just do it to him.
She had lost her fear now.
She wouldn't wind up a whore-the fate of almost all young girls who came into New York from the sticks to be actresses, models, singers, writers, artists, lawyers, or dancers.
Sure, she might well fuck and suck on her way to the top. That was the law of the cosmopolitan acid-rainforest jungle of the world that counted.
The world of big bucks. Lowdown hijinks with ritzy kinks. Shiny dark stretch-limos and diamond-studded fur cockrings.
Hobnobbing with hard-on honchos. Disco in San Francisco, rubdown with Crisco, up in time for a bunch-punch in her haunch before lunch.
Joyriding through the fastest lane of life.
Long glitzy green, hard cash and snazzy ass.
Sure it was rough at first. But Jessica would become mistress quickly of the ruse of abuse of anyone who was worthwhile for her to use.
First you pay your dues.
Then you turn the screws.
Jessica had paid.
Jessica had turned.
She could dress the two men accompanying her as Cuban gigolos if she felt like it. Force them to fuck on her in tandem. Humiliate both of them by fucking some bulldyke on top of them.
Tingling tango of puss in boots. Torrid tangle of bustling boobs and sly buttocks. Limber fingers and tongues linked like mating lizards.
Jessica again flicked her tit with her thumb. Feeling it bounce just so. Watching the man's eyes narrow and jaw slacken weakly.
Seeing tongue loll forth ever so slightly. Between parted, juice-covered lips that implied their secrets with a curl.
The dark man's fantasies could be accomplished if he liked. And if Jessica liked.
You like? Jessica said to him with her eyes.
If so, he would have to bend. Lick and do it Jessica's way.
Jessica sloshed the champagne down her throat. Glared down the aisle for a flight attendant.
"Something wrong?" the man said with vacant predatory smacks of his jaw.
"Need more bubbly," Jessica said with more than a trace of annoyance.
"Won't you have some of mine in the meantime?" the dark-haired man said smokily.
He lofted a small bottle of champagne toward Jessica, filling her glass.
"My name's Thomas Valentine. But I take it you knew that already. And you're Jessica James, aren't you?"
"No mistake," Jessica uttered, utterly composed and covering her fervor for the fuck.
The heaviness of Thomas Valentine's wolfish voice had her by surprise. Right by the green-gold dyed hairs of her quimmy-quim-quim.
His throatiness had sounded as if he were already in the wilds of orgasm.
Jessica felt the buzz like bees hovering over her torso from cunt to nipples. She took a peek in confirmation of what she knew.
Her nipples were erect and tingling.
There might well be the opportunity for some in-flight frolics, even cooped up here in tourist class steerage.
"Cheers," he said eagerly.
Jessica silently met the dark eyes. And in her mind she played at the slick, oily dark tendrils of hair hanging from Thomas Valentine's head.
Tied them in knots. Yielded her asshole to them, then popped the oiled knots out of her bung one by one as he slickered her clit to orgasm with working lips.
Yes, the clench of yip on Jessica's clit was just what she needed.
Jessica wouldn't be surprised if that dark one were a professional lady-killer.
So what if she had seen him in drag-queen hangouts and dyke joints.
That proved nothing.
He was a cockster for sure.
Gigolo.
Rake.
Jessica swished the champagne foam through her thick saliva, rinsing her parched mouth.
She felt an elbow jostling her titflesh as Alexander shifted in his dreams.
In an instant, Jessica brought her leg curled about Alexander's ankle. She slid her calf up the inside of his thigh, furtively searching with her free hand for his cock.
Fumbling wildly underneath his coverlet.
"What's the fucking problem, Alexander baby?" Jessica said mildly, watching the dark-eyed Thomas Valentine watch her handle her man.
Alexander, only partly awake, shoved his mouth into Jessica's tits. Her champagne glass tilted and spilled.
Champagne dappled her silk blouse to near transparency. Her red-rouged nipples showed up clearly erect on conical mounds of jiggling flesh.
Alexander spoke from within his own dreams.
"You cuntless gash dyke slit," Alexander murmured as he knocked the remainder of Jessica's champagne over her thighs, rubbing it in.
There was heat in her clit as his hands wallowed in the folds of her skirt. A burning for the fuck. But only the way she wanted it.
"I have to change," Jessica gushed, out of the corner of her eye keeping contact with the dark-haired man.
Roger snorted out of a high snore, awakened from where he slumbered in the window seat. He took up his glass of champagne and drained it.
"Jessica needs a change," Alexander said to him.
"You finished fucking already? Mouth, ass, and cunny too?" Roger said sleepily, looking about for more champagne.
"Cocksucking little imp," Jessicasaid, unbuckling her seatbelt.
I'll
"A change of clothes," Alexander said to Roger as he searched through the carry-on baggage they had shoved randomly underneath their seats.
Roger opened up his peepers and saw Jessica's slime-coated form. He yiped in a quick giggle, spurting a frothing jet of champagne from his yip.
"All your real clothes are checked on through, Jessica," Roger said, noticing the nakedness beneath Jessica's wet blouse. "Just as you said to do, tootsie."
"Fuck," Jessica muttered wetly, rising into the aisle space, throwing her hip out.
Roger noted the man now staring at Jessica's fanny waggling like a nun in heat.
"Got some of my duds here might fit you," Alexander remarked casually, exchanging glinted glances with Roger and repressing a waffle of laughter.
"You two simpering fucks just laugh your lame tails off," Jessica sneered.
Two flight attendants hurried up. Roger quickly had one running for more champagne while the other one, a bleach-blond fairy with a tight haircut, wiped off the seat.
Jessica heard Ginger May and Sylvania, in the row of seats directly behind her. They had awakened, groggy, bitchy.
"We're about the same size, Jessica," Ginger May-said just above a whisper. "I'll dig something comfortable out of my valise and meet you in the was-hroom."
"Where are those two going?" Alexander said rudely, watching their asses pop on down the aisle to the rear of the jumbo jet.
"Shameless, aren't they?" Roger said, breaking open the champagne.
"I'm following them. There's something up."
"What?"
"You know Jessica."
"Not really," Roger said.
"Mean she hasn't fucked you yet? I can tell she's getting ready to jump on you, buddy. I don't give a shit. You must understand, despite her humble office demeanor, she's an incomparable bitch-but I do feel compelled to warn you. Not that you'll pay any heed to the whinings of her boyfriend."
"Boyfriend? Aren't you married?" .
"Aren't you? Since I first fucked her the other day-she was a virgin, can you believe?-I have separated from my wife only to have Jessica tell me she wants to play around."
"You make her sound most intriguing, Alexander. Perhaps I should get to know her better."
"Come on, Roger."
"What for? Oh, yes. Jealous boyfriend act. No, I haven't slept for two days. I'm slugging down some champagne then going back to knockout land."
"Some friend."
"I'm just getting my rest so I'll be up to fucking with her when it's my turn."
* * *
Ginger May's pussy pulsed in front of Jessica's face. She could see the lace of Ginger May's panties peeking out from her crotch as she squatted before her, skirt hiked up over her thighs, wiping down Jessica's raw flesh with Sani-Wipes.
Jessica puked a stomachful of champagne into the toilet as Ginger May held her head deep in the bowl. She rubbed her wet cunt with her fingers. Did she dare to forcefuck Jessica in the washroom? Of course she did.
"Here, let me dab you with this before you, uh, get dressed again, Jessica. This okay?"
Ginger May held aloft a gauzy oversized teeshirt that served as a sleazy minidress.
"Wonderful. Are you sure you don't mind my wearing this?"
"Shit, no. You can keep it-or do whatever you want-it's just something I shoplifted-"
"Oh, excuse me," Thomas Valentine said as he opened the washroom door Jessica had left unlocked, certainly on purpose.
"Come on," Jessica said. "You can take a piss. We'll hold you steady."
Thomas Valentine shot a look down the cabin. He lurched inside the restroom with the girls.
"You an actress?" he said to Ginger May.
"Oh, I could never be an actress," Ginger May said, reaching for some dry paper toweling. "I'm afraid I haven't the character."
"That can be acquired," Jessica insinuated with a slow exhalation.
Her boobs rose and fell.
The hard nips shaking as Ginger May dried them. Pinching them desirously between thumb and forefinger as she wiped with the rough material.
"This bathroom's awfully small," Jessica said.
"I'll move around," Ginger May said.
"Here, Ginger May, you sit on the toilet while I try to get into this," Jessica said determinedly, hoisting the minidress over her head.
He placed his palms squarely on Jessica's tits. Pressed a hot thigh to Jessica's ass.
Jessica turned around and took him in her puke-laced embrace. Their tongues shared the same wet spaces. Running rampant like serpents.
Ginger May felt their message. Telling her she must go down. Subtle but sure. Forcing her fanny onto the toilet seat.
Then the two pairs of mitts gripping her by the earrings. Twisting her head forward. Into the soft center between festering thighs.
Smack into wet-running bikini underpants.
She reached both her hands up. Slipping inside the brief panties. Feeling up Jessica's taut arsecheeks with both hands.
Her fingernail finding the smirking pucker.
Mouth tasting the brine of Jessica's foaming quim. Pulling hairs with her teeth as she nipped about in her crotch.
"The fuck you doing?"
Alexander was heard muffled through the door as he rapped with both fists.
"I've been out here ten minutes. What are you doing, waiting for puberty?"
"Almost ready," Jessica called out sweetly.
She sucked one tendril of Thomas Valentine's wet hair. Then smacked Ginger May's face unexpectedly with the back of her hand simply because she knew she could get away with it.
"Yeow, bitch! Jessica, why are you acting like this? You've become a monster."
"Wait here while I get rid of lover-boy," Jessica said crisply.
She slid easily into the teeshirt minidress and was out the bathroom door in a flash.
Alexander stood open-mouthed and speechless. A silence, Jessica thought, somewhere between a raucous laugh and a howl of rage.
"Listen, Alexander," she said seductively, "I had to put in my diaphragm."
Her eyes indicated the empty rows of seats in the ack of the tourist cabin. "Did your girlfriend have to give you hands-on instructions?" Alexander replied breezily. "We were talking-you know how it is-"
"Afraid so-"
"She's a little airsick too-"
"Well, fancy that."
Alexander was beginning to learn something about the new Jessica. Right now she was hot young meat. She was on the road to being a somebody.
But in a few months, when her tight little quim was all raw, her mouth stretched out, her pucker hanging halfway down the back of her thighs, she'd be a nobody again.
Jessica looked again toward the empty seats as the cabin lights were lowered and the movie screen began to glimmer.
"You're nuts," Alexander said, suddenly uncomfortable. He knew she could force him to do whatever was her whimsy.
And he would fuck her wherever, whenever, and however she wished.
They climbed down a row of seats to one side of the rear of the airplane. There were a couple of figures who might have been able to see them, but they were either asleep or focused in on the movie screen in front.
Too bad, Jessica snotted to herself.
Jessica began unzipping Alexander's pants.
Feeling the hardness that grew up along his belly. The thickness of the bare head popping up over the waistband of his trousers.
"Get ourselves naked, baby. More fun that way," Jessica said.
Alexander jimmied up the armrests between the seats to give them more room. He made sure the seat backs were up straight to lessen the sight angles to passers-by.
Jessica flipped off the teeshirt in one easy motion, then wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. She. inched off her wet panties, jerking at her clit, as Alexander stripped down.
"Lie down on your back, Alexander."
He sighed, almost chuckling as he leaned back. Cock throbbing up between his hands. Balls billowing like oily clouds.
Jessica climbed up over him. Her cunt pressing down on his length of dick as she sttaddled him flat. Watching his eyes light up.
As he heard the clink of metal. Felt the seatbelt snap about his wrists.
She moved down and secured his ankles expertly, then tugged the third seatbelt around his neck. Jacking all the time with her free hand.
Bobbing up and down on the head of his striving penis with her mouth. Torturing him with whip-like lashes of her tongue.
Jessica then slid into the oversized teeshirt, flipped the blanket over Alexander's nude erection, signaled good-bye.
She grinned at him as he moved his lips soundlessly. He couldn't very well cry out for help, now, could he?
"I want the vibrator. I think it's in my makeup kit that Ginger May borrowed-in the bathroom."
Then she scat like a cat, and ducked into the washroom. Ginger May was on the toilet seat, rubbing her cunt with Jessica's discarded blouse. Thomas Valentine's curved dong was playing between her tits.
"Be back, you two," Jessica said shortly. "I'll get the champagne.
"Just a second, honeyclit," Ginger May said, holding up a vial of glittering crystal.
Jessica shot her hips forward, raising the hem of the teeshirt. Ginger May stripped Jessica's panties to the floor.
Thomas Valentine strung his pecker down Jessica's throat. He began to shoot off warm jets of fresh urine.
Then Ginger May pressed a few fingertips coated with the white powder between Jessica's hot-running cuntlips. Smooching her there to take up some of the energy from the powder.
The jabbering prick was still in her yip. The pizzle had ceased, yet Jessica gnawed the knob with innate fury.
Jessica dropped her hem and eased up against the door. The cool burn of the drug shot from her twat like an icicle up her asshole.
Speared her nipples and her throat with white-hot energy for the fuck.
Throwing a kiss back at her lovers, Jessica darted up the aisle. She saw Roger laid out beside a nearly full bottle of bubbly.
As she bent to take the firm cool neck of the bottle in her hand, she felt Roger's fingers close about her wrist.
"Not so fast, Jessica."
"Who do I have to fuck for a drink around this place?" Jessica said as she slid onto the seat next to Roger.
"You're looking at him."
"Take a suck of cunt as down-payment?"
He shook his head slowly.
Jessica was in a playful mood. She'd let him have a taste for now. The real fun would be later, when she would make him pay for his play.
"It has to be quick and dirty this time, Roger my man. I'm afraid I've already tied up my boyfriend back there and-"
"There's a lady in waiting as well, isn't there?" Roger said as he groped her firm cone-shaped knockers.
His fingers did some walking up the insides of her thighs. His eyes sparked as he felt her move against him.
Maddeningly naked, she was, beneath her borrowed teeshirt minidress.
"I'm taking your pants down," Jessica answered in reply to his unspoken, obvious question as he squirmed on top of her.
"They'll see my ass," he hissed.
Her hand connected with a surprisingly enormous growth of cock. She had jerked him off in seconds, the small discharge of sperm scattering like tiny marbles across her belly.
"You slime-bitch," Roger said crudely. "That one doesn't count at all."
"I should say not," Jessica iterated snidely.
Roger shot a swig of champagne down his gullet, then brought the lips of the bottle up to Jessica's drooling maw.
He entered her slowly, still stiff. Readying once more for another shot of come.
Jessica gagged on the foaming liquid. Spat greenish froth from between her teeth.
Felt Roger rut maniacally right up to her navel. Then watched as his hips shot back, popping his prick from her pussy.
He aimed the burgeoning head at her face as he sprayed off a pulse of jissom. Then another, hitting her flailing tongue as he advanced, shooting, into her agape mouth.
Jessica swallowed the juice eagerly. She tasted the crystal powder Ginger May had shoved in her cunt. Brought to her yip by the brisk prick that had fucked her there.
Her tongue and teeth worked with her lips along the long thick dong. Snapping up the drug that had infused the dick during its brief rut.
She twisted about, now kneeling in front of him, bending her tits to his face. Whispering wetly into him.
"There's some kind of drug powder in my cunt. You'll give it a suck now, won't you?"
Roger dropped his head down past her waist.
"You'll give Jessica what she needs, now, won't you, dear-give it now!"
As his jaw worked feverishly, Jessica eased back. Splitting her thighs. Burying his nose in her soft dyed-golden fur.
Feeling his grin as he gnawed her flesh. Seeing the ladyjuice glaze his cheeks.
Ushering the liquid release from inside her. Washing his face down with golden showers from a golden cunt.
Rinsing Roger with her piss. Drenching his face. Rubbing it in. Streaking his hair with foaming champagne-imbued urine.
Sylvania's sleepy head popped up from where she had been catnapping in the row behind them.
"What's up, you two buggers?"
"Here, Sylvania. You take him. I got him all warmed up for you."
Jessica seized up the bottle of champagne and, lowering the hem of her teeshirt minidress, trotted off down the aisle.
"May I help you?" Jessica heard the female voice of the airline attendant ask behind her.
"You could fetch up another bottle of champagne for our party," Jessica heard Roger respond.
There was a squeal and Jessica lunged forward into a full sprint.
She passed the back row to look in on the bound Alexander. That one might be dangerous if he got mad, Jessica reminded herself.
Empty seat where he had been.
Where was he?
Jessica moved quickly, scratching her fingernails along the outside of the bathroom door. Hearing Ginger May gasp inside.
As if choking on come.
Make a fool of her, would they?
"I have the champagne," Jessica said.
"Oh-it's you-Jessica?" she heard Alexander say, mouth obviously stuffed with Ginger May's drug-laced twatmeat.
The door opened and Jessica ducked in. She saw the crystal-frosted pecker of her boyfriend Alexander pointing up at her from his groin.
Her Peeping Tom lover Thomas Valentine had his hog mowing up and down Ginger May's split.
He watched Jessica fuck. Now she watched him in rut.
Ginger May's eyes and spread cuntlips were likewise glazed. Her nipples were stuck out like arrowheads, and the slime of Alexander's come was still visible on her chin.
Roger burst through the door. He was pantless, wet with piss and holding up another ice-cold bottle.
"More bubbly for the crew," he said with a wide smirk as he jabbed his dick at Jessica's asshole from behind.
Sylvania slipped behind Roger. Held his cock as he twitched it right up Jessica's ass.
The androgynous female flight attendant was trying to cram her hot bod into the tiny bathroom. Jessica then stood up on the toilet seat and sprayed the air with her fragrant urine.
This was more like it, Jessica thought. She'd rounded them up, herded them together. All of them were hers.
Was it all in her mind?
Could it be?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cuntlipstick on collar told a tale on Roger. Jessica knew he'd been rutting Sylvania for some time. But that morning during the opening session of the international conference on censorship and freedom in the media, the unmistakable imprint of Sylvania's twat had been wrapped around his neck, right above the knot of his tie.
If Jessica had invented a lot of the fuck action during her nighttime reverie on the jumbo jet, there were some fancies of hers that were real and in the flesh. Her flesh.
Now naked and hot.
Underarms oozing.
Heaving moist breasts.
Heavy moist breaths.
Jessica James lurched into orgasm as she felt Sylvania's fingers slime on up her arsehole. Her dyed golden hair was a slick web across her flushed face.
The dark-haired woman's mouth was glued to her clit. Her hands roamed Jessica's chest with gay abandon. The oily tendrils of her plaited and beaded hair slapped furiously against Jessica's tumultuous thighs.
"More. Fuck me more."
Looking impassively through the parted windows and the heavy, drifting curtains of the London fog outside the suite in the hotel, Jessica took in the view of a quiet, narrow cobblestone mews. Her eyes, a glassy jade mist, caught sight of the building, looming large and homely and faceless, seeming to glare at them from across the court.
If they could see in-and they could if they were looking-Jessica trusted they were enthralled by what they saw.
And then Jessica saw him.
Of course.
She knew he would be there.
Thomas Valentine, cock long and lean. Expres-sion mean as he jacked himself.
Sylvania spread Jessica's legs wider as she pushed her back onto the wet mattress.
"Now," Jessica whispered.
"Say it again, Jessica."
"Pop me now," she echoed, spraying a mist of saliva from her lips.
Slowly, Sylvania did as she was bid.
She inserted lengths of her hair up Jessica's rump. Stuffing them in with twisting fingers. Stubbing with her thumbs.
"Aiiiii!"
Then herky-jerking her head from side to side. Sucking clit and cuntfolds. "Eaugh."
Ooze flying from her nuzzling lips. Cascading, mixed with Jessica's ladyjuice and rectal mucus down the insides of her thighs.
"Uuuuunh."
Jessica was a wash of sparkling liquid from her navel to her bent knees. "Eeeee-eeeh-ek."
She pressed her body forward, feeling the movement of her enslaved dark cutie within her and without her. Tensing her jaws as she rushed again into orgasmic jitters.
"Aaaaah."
Jessica let loose a slither of piss over Sylvania's brow. The darkling woman snapped her head back spasmically. "Ow!"
Yanking the beaded tresses from Jessica's churning haunch. "Aaaaak!"
Then spitting a mouthful of piss back into Jessica's still-spouting quim. "Unh."
"Love it, lover."
"Love me."
Jessica held out her open palm. Cupped Sylvania's mouthcheek. She patted the flesh gently, comfortingly.
Then smacked her in the jaw. "Yeowch!"
Sylvania growled as Jessica slapped her across the cheek. She bit into Jessica's hand and brought up a fist into the bleach-blonde puss.
"Fucking dyke bitch!"
Jessica struggled earnestly to maintain her balance. Her hips jerked uncontrollably from side to side, her conical tits fluttering.
"Oooooh."
She sank to the bedding in a wet, spent heap. Jessica looked over at Alexander's form, splayed out sleeping on the other bed.
"Looks as if he's coming around now," Sylvania said, indicating Alexander's rhythmically moving finger and half-opened eye.
"No," Jessica said. "I know the look. He's gone-way far out."
"Where's Roger?" Sylvania said, still frigging at her enlarged clit.
"Roger?"
"Yeah. You do know Roger, don't you?"
"Gotcha. I'm a little wiped out now, hon. Must be all those drugs and booze you forced down me on the flight last night."
"Yeah. Really forced you, didn't we."
"Fuck yourself off, bitch. Roger went out to get some wine a while back."
"Have his pants on?"
"Believe so."
"Sure?"
"Of course not."
"What's the last thing he did before he left?"
"Came off up your arse, Sylvania. If I recall correctly," Jessica giggled.
Sylvania looked past Alexander, out the window. Focusing on the stern facade of the large building to the left. Catching a glimpse of the man stroking his twanger. He looked familiar. Had she seen him before? Where?
"Up my bum," Sylvania mused. "That was a long time ago. I hope he isn't into any trouble."
"I hope he is."
* * *
Jessica James trembled in orgasm as her sweat turned hot and cold.
She half closed her eyes, staring down at the twosome copulating between her legs.
On the porcelain floor of the large bathtub, Alexander pumped his pecker in and out of Sylvania's punkhole. Wrinkling his forehead as he squeezed off a pod of jissom up her taut arse.
Jessica turned on the water in the tub, giving rise to a head of steam as she streamed her own boiling piss onto the two bodies in rut.
She thought she heard someone at the door. Inside the foyer.
They'd gotten tired of waiting for Roger to return, and Sylvania had ordered up a bottle of champagne. That itself had been some time ago-before Alexander had reawakened.
"In here," Jessica heard Sylvania cry out woozily, gargling come.
"Shut up, you silly cunt," Jessica said.
She slapped a clenched paw along Sylvania's wet hair. Knocking her head into the side of the tub. Clawing her tits.
"Yeow!"
"Don't you go doing that to her," Alexander said, suddenly a gentleman knighterrant. "You didn't act like this a few days ago. What the fuck's gotten into you?"
Jessica grinned silently.
Jessica had gotten into Jessica. The doppelfokker, fuckstress bitch-demon inside of her quim had come to the fore.
"The fuck you think you're talking to, Alexander," she belched. "You ballless jell." Jessica kicked his balls. "Cocksucker."
Spat onto his tits and gave them a twist as hard as she could. "Awk!"
As he yiped in new erection, Jessica leapt from the tub. Wrapping a towel about herself, she slid into the foyer.
There was a tray with a large silver ice bucket containing two bottles of champagne. She yanked one bottle but of the bucket and began to open up the wire corkguard.
She caught slight movement out of the corner of her eyes. There in the living room of the suite was Roger with Ginger May.
On the floor.
Nearly nude.
Both of them.
And another dude, whose naked form, chillingly familiar, was lithe as a prowling panther.
There was a third bottle of champagne open, and Roger and the woman were passing it between them.
"Glad you could join us," Roger said.
The other man's head turned about. Jessica froze in recognition. Of course.
What did she expect.
She let the towel drop from around her wet body. Showing her rigid pink nipples and oiling pussfuzz dyed metallic gold.
"H-h-hi, Thomas," Jessica said wanly.
She stooped to the floor, averting her eyes.
"This bottle's almost finished," Jessica said. "I'll get us another.
Her three fuckmates held forth their champagne flutes.
"Hold them close," Jessica said. "I'll want to fizz it right into the flutes when it starts piping up the neck."
After filling their glasses, Jessica turned on her heel and patted into the bathroom.
"Since when did Jessica become such a snit-bitch?" Jessica thought she heard Thomas Valentine whisper.
And who was he, anyway?
Her phantom lover.
A nobody.
And he'd fucked all her girlfriends. In front of her. Fucking creep. Fuck him.
"Sylvania," Jessica said with admirable steadiness to her voice, "Ginger May's out here now. With Roger."
"Oh. Fantastic!" Sylvania shouted, deliriously mocking in tone.
Echoing off the bathroom walls.
Jessica stuck her head into the bathroom.
"Now you get out there, Sylvania, and suck her pussy raw or you're in real trouble."
"But I'm in love with you now, Jessica. And only you, my dearest."
Jessica stepped up to her tits.
Slapped her face repeatedly.
"Yeow!"
"Cunt!"
"That makes two of us," Alexander remarked vaguely.
Jessica cracked him upside the head. "Stinking cuntflesh!"
"You eat out the old hag, too, lover-boy. Fuck her in the pussy. Fuck her bum. Fuck her in the face. I want her satisfied."
She pointed to the door and Alexander and Sylvania slinked out into the foyer.
There they broke into a run, running up to Ginger May and mounting her.
Alexander slung his long shlong down along the inside of her fine throat.
Sylvania slid her legs between Ginger May's hips and flat-fucked her in a jerking frenzy.
Clit frictioning clit.
Jessica sashayed into the room carrying a bottle of bubbly. Roger draped her legs, lapping up the cuntjuice running freely.
It was incredible, Jessica thought. The way all resistance to the new Jessica crumbled at the scent of her cunt.
The sight of tart nipples hard as bullets. Hot as coals. Rounded arsecheeks luminous as the fullest moon.
There was no denying Jessica's power. All else dissolved when she was physically present. All past indiscretion was forgotten, and one craved ever so much more humiliation.
Demanded only to be enslaved by Jessica.
To serve her well and to take well their punishment. For it was only that they deserved for submitting themselves to a snot rut-cunt like her.
For the honor of drinking her perfumed piss.
Jessica plastered the heavy bottle into Sylvania's sputtering bung.
"Oh. Yes."
Then she swung it right up Ginger May's twitching cunt. "Ouwh."
Forced Alexander to blow the champagne bottle like a green glass cock. Make believe the froth of champagne was jissom.
Jessica jacked off Roger into the bottle and then shoved it down everyone else's throats.
She made sure that Thomas Valentine got his.
He held his hardwood pecker as he witnessed the suckfuck frenzy.
Ginger May was fucked front and back.
Fucked in her yip, pummeled in the pussy and hiney by both Alexander and Roger. She was then fistfucked in the fanny, cunny and, yes, in the mouth, by Sylvania's Vaseline-slimed paw.
Alexander blasted joyjuice all over Ginger May's tits. Sylvania rubbed it in with her tongue.
Roger, his rump pulsing with cool bubbling alcohol, ejaculated a drooling line around Jessica's head like a molten halo.
Jessica James then perched herself on a couch and lit a cigarette.
She was dripping with her own piss. Her body was a jell of sweat, ladyjuice, and jissom.
"Who wants a real fuck?" Jessica sang out. "Real high tits, real hot cunt." She farted. "And don't forget my asshole hungering down there."
Thomas Valentine held her shoulders.
"You will help me through this, my love," Jessica murmured to him.
He forced her down.
"Yes, Thomas. That is the way."
He made Jessica fuck and suck. Jack off random cockmeat. Take twangers in, not only mouth, ass, and cunt, but also in navel, between the toes, in her armpits, nostrils, eyesockets, and earcups.
"I love it. I love what you do. To Jessica. To that Jessica. And to this one."
And he made Jessica fuck on womanflesh. Cunt-suck them. Fistfuck their innards. Eat pussy for dinner. Take engorged clit within her.
Jessica felt her Thomas release her from his grip. Was she now on her own? Where was he? She needed him. She couldn't do this without him.
Or could she?
Alexander and Roger were eagerly whipping her off as Sylvania, dear Sylvania, -rimmed her shuddering rump with pointed tongue. And Ginger May poured another round of champagne.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Asshole chewed cockhead as Jessica James went up in flames. The burning bush between her legs was stoked with another prick. Her paws dripped come as they whacked yet another pecker.
Fucked by Alexander, Roger, and, dearest of all, her fiction-come-to-life Thomas Valentine.
Holed up in an orgy suite at a hotel in Manhattan overlooking Central Park. Of late, this type of office fuckrut had appealed to their tastes.
Alexander croaked out in the midst of a flash of come into her cunt. Roger ranted off a punch of scum in her punk.
Thomas Valentine tipped a wad of jissom up her arm. Spheres of sperm rolled to her tits.
Creamed down her chest.
Ginger May stepped into the room, already dressed and refreshed.
"Jessica, get ready. We have a surprise for you. A special honor."
"A special honor? For me?" Jessica said in affected disbelief.
She felt a flush rush to her skin.
In college Jessica had trained in biofeedback. Now that training came in handy.
She could produce a blush when she wished to appear modestly embarrassed.
"Your Lady Godiva piece," Ginger May announced, "has won an award for new journalists. It's a tremendous honor."
"Yes, under the auspices of the English Language Journalism Council," Roger said.
"Sylvania has an honorable mention for her new fashion column," Alexander said. "Maybe next year for Ginger May. She's just starting out."
"We've sure come a long way since we got these women doing real work around the office," Roger coughed out in a chortle.
"We just got the news today," Ginger May said.
Jessica sensed real excitement in Ginger May's voice. But she knew that bitch well enough to speculate there might be something behind it.
* * *
The reception was held in one of the private rooms at Club Belladonna, for the moment the freshest discoteque in New York.
Jessica chewed bile in a bestial madness. She hated everybody. Thrived on hate. Drank of her own contempt like a vampire drinking blood. If it were up to her whim, she would see them all destroyed.
They were all corrupt, debauched.
For one, Jessica didn't need the cunt of that whorish screecher Sylvania anymore for sure. She avidly betrayed her body many times daily in thought and in action.
Not the brutish prick of Alexander, who thought he was so violent and mean, either. Didn't need his ego, the way he talked and slapped back.
And especially Jessica could lose the sadistic scamp who had once even forced her to fuck for champagne. That imbecile psycho Roger.
They would all be paid back.
She didn't need them at all.
But she needed that love drug.
Inside her.
Cunt and arsehole.
Tingling as it fell onto her clit and nipples. Jessica smirked smugly in her mind. Right now, this very evening. At this very party.
Jessica found herself particularly attracted to the gentleman with the juicy suckling-pig complexion. The thin wiry dude who was laid back so far out there in the way only those who owned kingdoms could be.
He was Sheik al Jebal Asani Saba. This rogue was the principal owner of the club and allegedly heir to a long-since landless throne.
But Jessica only cared that his bashes reigned over all the gossip columns.
They would all submit to Jessica.
Such was love.
And, in a womanly fashion, Jessica loved her dear friend Ginger May.
Now it was time to bust her buns a bit.
"Yeah, but then she jilted you for me, Ginger May. Isn't that right?" Jessica said flatly.
"What are you talking about, Jessica? Isn't that, like, a little personal. This is fucking in public, doll."
"So? You've fucked in public."
Asani Saba coughed on his drink. Leered crudely. His hard-on was outlined in a curve up the pleated front of his sharkskin silk suit.
Jessica snarled icily, "You think that your beloved oily-haired tramp girlfriend is as big a face as Jessica James? She's nothing but gashmeat. A nobody dykesucking slut."
Roger waltzed by and sat down. Obviously stoned out of his gourd.
"Did Sylvania tell you, Ginger May dear," Jessica continued crisply, "about all the times that she beaded her hair and pushed the strands right up my asshole and popped the beads out when I came?"
"It must have felt good, Jessica," Ginger May puked out. "You, like, got it on with her so many times we all thought you were lesbo."
Jessica's head spun. She had come down a bit from her animal madness rutfuck high.
She thought of cock.
Piss.
Ice.
She needed some of that glitzy old ice-me-down-in-the-twat high.
Cooling her quim on a rush to her brain.
"So why don't you give a big fucking party to honor your lover-girl, Ginger May?" Jessica snorted. "If you can find her, baby. Right now Sylvania's off with a former boyfriend of mine blitzing out on some love fucksuck drugs."
Jessica stubbed a cigarette out on her shoe.
Alexander and Roger both had cigarettes out in a flash. They each shoved a fag in her yip and lit them up with gaudy lighters.
"Oh, just mention Sylyania and all of a sudden everyone wants to know the details," Jessica said acidly. "She must be on everyone's hot-to-trot fox-fuck list."
Jessica smoked down the two cigarettes as she went on talking snidely.
"Yeah, the one you all want to make."
"Bullshit, Jessica," Ginger May leered, putting her arms around the waists of Alexander and Roger.
Jessica saw Ginger May's fingers touch Roger's dicktip through his trousers.
Ginger May began yanking off Alexander.
Jessica's jealousy blinded her. She began to come in humiliation.
"You're a big talent, Jessica," Roger grinned cherubically. "You could have been the biggest. But you've peaked, sad to say."
"Thanks for the fucking favor," Jessica said tartly. "You can all pop that award right up your rubber assholes. Or get Sylvania to do it for you-her technique's not so bad now after all the training I've given her."
Jessica was eerily horny.
She leaned back and felt the surge from her clit. Buzzing up her backbone to her brain.
Jessica peeked through some spaces between the artificial foliage surrounding them.
The party out there was getting giddy.
Bitches sashaying with mannequins. Downing long icy drinks through glass straws.
She thought she saw Thomas Valentine watching her from the zinc-topped bar.
Jessica stalked from her seat on the bench, ignoring the conversation directed at her. There Thomas was, running around the bar in pursuit of some fleshy bird-didn't he see Jessica?
Jessica waved to him just as he disappeared again into the crowd. She slumped again onto the plush bench, swearing.
"Fucking cuntsucking motherfucker."
She eyed her companions.
Were they all against her now?
She heard Ginger May speaking again.
"No, we prefer to honor a has-been hag, Jessica. You're the youngest washed-out cunt-dyke-bitch in history. You, like, give this affair a hint of nostalgia and decadence-necrophilia, even."
"Where did you learn those big words, Ginger May? You little liquid shit."
Jessica suddenly sickened at herself.
Her mind was shot.
Cuntjuices hot.
Jessica felt defeated by the prospect of having to come up with another insult to top Ginger May's remark, when all she wanted was to sleep.
Either that or fuck.
"This is Jessica's day," Alexander said as all glasses but Jessica's met in an impromptu toast of affection.
"Go ahead and give it to her now, Ginger May," Roger said evenly. "We're generous."
Ginger May grinned and her teeth looked like sharp little fangs.
Jessica felt a wash of the old fear come back to her. Running up her spine.
"I'm dumping the slimy twat anyway," Jessica said jocularly. "You can give your fucking slutessa of the year honor to Sylvania now if you want, Ginger May. And everyone'll know it's because you're fucking her, if that's how you want it."
"We wanted to wait until after you continue your slide," Roger said suddenly.
"Yes, the very special ceremonial," Alexander said. "We haven't presented that honor in several years now."
"She's deserving," Asani Saba said with an inflection somewhere between a query and a desire for the fuck.
"Another award?" Jessica yawned. "I'd actually, now that you mention it, be willing to accept a special award just for me-that journalism award seemed a bit common, you must admit."
"We wanted to wait until next year," Ginger May said. "It would be more poignant to see Jessica accept her due appreciation when she's a bit on the downside. She'll be more grateful then."
"I'm tired of this shit," Jessica said smokily. "Your lesbo games, Ginger May-we're all tired of your soap-opera existence. Shut up and let's get back to partying."
"Just what do you want, Jessica?" Ginger May said. "You're acting as though we're your enemies."
"You lied to me!" Jessica belched. "You all fucked me and then lied and used me up!"
Jessica broke into tears.
Jessica looked at Alexander and Roger.
"Either of you two boys have any chemicals on you?" Jessica said.
"Well, speaking for myself," Roger said, "I thought I'd be able to filch someone else's tonight. There must be some about."
Jessica screamed relentlessly. "It has to be pink-and-white crystal. Not that nigger street snort, spic flake, or public-school kid dreck."
"You have some?" Alexander said to Asani Saba.
"I can have some for you within fifteen minutes," Asani Saba said almost silently.
"Now!" Jessica said as her tears bubbled down her cheeks.
"Come on, doll," Ginger May cajoled. "You had some when you came in? Where is it?"
"Find that Prince of Crank Thomas Valentine or his dopefiend doxie Sylvania," Jessica said nervously. "Sylvania gave me a spun-gold pouch-the same one you gave her, Ginger May, I'm sure-filled with pink-calico flake love drug. I need it to fuck!
Fuck! Fu-uuuck! I want to fu-uuuuuck. Fuck. Fuck-suckfuck! Fuck-fuck me! Fuck and fuck and suck and fucksuck more!"
"This what you mean, babes?" Thomas Valentine said as he plopped down on Jessica's lap.
He reached between his legs and ripped open the velcro cuntflap on Jessica's bodystocking.
"I knew you'd save me, Thomas."
She ululated in glee as he powdered her puss.
"More," Jessica said, giggling.
Her dyed-gold cunthairs glistened with a powdery sprinkling. A glistening pinkish foam lathered her labia. Smothered her clit in frothy peaks.
"Not quite yet, Jessica," Alexander said from behind her as Sylvania slid onto her lap.
"Who do I have to fuck for some drugs around here?" Jessica said uneasily.
"You don't have to fuck anybody," Sylvania explained to her, licking with lizard-like tongue up her tear-streaked cheek.
"In fact, you won't be permitted to," Roger said, clamping his hand over one of Ginger May's tight-tipped tits from behind.
Sylvania shook out a handful of the flakes onto Slash's dicktip. She formed it into a froth with her saliva.
"Meanwhile," Ginger May said, "we've got arses, cocks, clits and titties galore for you to lick out, all filled with your favorite confection."
"I wonder what the gossip columns will say?" Asani Saba chuckled.
"Oh, my, it would be a scandal after all, wouldn't it?" Sylvania cackled.
Alexander slung his long shlong directly down Jessica's guzzling gullet.
Roger's camera started popping with flashes.
Alexander rutted in Jessica's throat.
He belted into her maw frenetically to get the jissom off fast so he could take a piss and go after some real pussy.
Something like Sylvania.
For starters.
Sparkling powder-laced come speckled Jessica's face as Alexander withdrew his pulsating pecker from her neck.
"You need some whacks, Jessica," Sylvania slimed through her teeth.
"Ow!"
Sylvania slapped her silly. "Unh!"
Cracked into her again with her wrist. Spit in her face as she smacked. Mashing the jissom into her pleading jaws.
"No, Sylvania. Please stop. I didn't mean anything bad about you I ever said."
"Listen to that wretched cunt," Thomas Valentine remarked. "Silly in her old age, isn't she?"
He held his twanger over the ceremony like a magic wand. Piss cascaded from the carapace of his cock onto Jessica's face. "Yes," she licked out.
Roger pointed his meat at Jessica. He sent a sparkling cascade of ripening urine in a spritely arc through the air and onto her face. Spattering the glitzy liquid into her hog-open mouth. Onto extended curling tongue.
Pissing giltedged bubbles of foam up, like the morning surf rising as a crown from Jessica's piss-bleached hair. Stinging and dappling her flickering, impassive jade eyes.
She split her lips. Barfed out alcoholic puke down the front of her bodystocking. Yapped it back up into her yip like a sick bitch-hound.
Sheared off half her mind and went fuck-blind. Jessica swooned in humiliating orgasm after orgasm.
Thomas Valentine advanced tentatively. What had he made her into? He pulled one of her shining boobs from her bodystocking.
Sylvania laced one of her own bright pink aureoles with flakes of crystal and forced Jessica's jaws onto it.
Jessica rolled her tongue about. Suckling the thick knocker in her maw.
Playing with the knobby nipple. Slickering the vastness of the firm white flesh.
Asani Saba then rolled out his hard pecker. Jessica sheathed it in sputum.
Thomas Valentine was stripped naked expertly by Ginger May, likewise nude.
Her tigress-hard body was afuck on Thomas, and Jessica whined at the sight. Powerless in her jealousy as she suckered prick, nibbled nipples, and mucked up buttocks.
Questing for the drug she craved.
Love was the drug.
For which she must submit.
Whatever she had done.
To other people.
They might call her a snot.
Bitchstress.
Walking, stalking, fucking she-devil.
Well, some of it might be true.
She was only human, after all.
And humans were inhuman.
So they were all against her.
It was only because Jessica wanted to be loved.
Was that such a crime?
If so, for wanting love she must stand convicted. For Jessica was full with desire. To love and be loved. If convicted, she would accept her punishment. For being a fool in love. And now they were abusing her love. "Fuck on her!"
"Yes, fuck me. All of you. And especially you-master of my inner soul, Thomas Valentine."
"But he's not here," Sylvania said.
"He, like, never was, doll," Ginger May gargled out through a mouthful of come.
"Waaaaah!" Jessica wailed. Her tears mixed with the glaze of solidifying jissom covering her maw. The jell hung in thick wattles from her jaw.
"No! It can't be."
She worked her mouth along Sylvania's sliming cuntfolds, grasping her rump with one hand. In her other paw she jerked off Alexander.
"Fraid so, pussycunt," Ginger May said kindly. "There never was a Thomas Valentine. You have, like, done all of this fucking on your own, Jessica."
"Every guy you saw looking at you," Sylvania peeped. "You thought it was your Peeping Thomas. Even left the blinds open when we orgied-and we certainly did draw some onlookers. You almost had me believing it for a while."
Jessica's quim curdled. "But I could never do all those wild things. Unless I did them to-to attract my Valentine."
She was shaken by the cataclysm in her anus. Broken by the eruption of her cunt. Clitnib buzzing in impending climax.
Ginger May kissed her tenderly. "And, like-you also were jawing off about another Jessica. Like she's some kind of fuck-goddess who possessed your body."
"Ginger May, please. It's all real! Do you all think I'm mad?""
Roger entwined his pecker in Jessica's urine-bleached hair and fell jerking off down her back. He glided his still-spurting cock into Jessica's quaking rump from behind.
Jessica slipped her fingertip into Sylvania's round crinkle. Then she put it into her mouth and slurped rectal mucus.
"I still cannot comprehend this," Jessica gnawed. "What did I make up-and what didn't I?"
She saw Thomas Valentine, clear as life. Jacking his rocks. Shooting a long twine of silvery sperm straight at her face.
His laughter echoed in Jessica's brain. "Only we know for sure, Jessica. Only I and the fuckstress Jessica can ever know."
Jessica snapped to reality. The friction of flesh and fuck.
It was she herself. Jessica James had always been the one who fucked. She at times fancied it was true love-or sadomasochistic romances, tales of sexual vengeance and betrayal. Whether it was in her fantasy or, more recently, in her worldly existence-she herself was the bitchbeast captive in her cunt.
And she could fulfill that dream in reality.
Jessica oiled up three fingers in her twat and twisted them up Sylvania's arse. The dark-haired girl came in gyrational frenzy.
Alexander and Roger fucked on Ginger May from both ends. It suited Jessica to paw pussy while the men got tired of the other girl.
Then she would drag them into real fuckrut madness. Jessica's kind.
Sylvania slid down Jessica's face and dragged her foaming quim across her tits.
"What?" Jessica purred.
"Now!"
Sylvania slapped Jessica with devotion to detail that was almost religious. Whipped her face and boobs with her long oiled hair.
"Mpfg."
Through a curtain of tears, Jessica watched in silence as the others took further pleasure without her. She shuddered in orgasmic jealousy. Contorted shamelessly. Face caked with half-dried rutoils, mouth frothing.
Limbs flailing spasmodically. Shaking off shards of jissom. Torso glazed with thick mucus and powdered with pink-and-white crystals.
Cuntjuices scalding down the insides of her thighs. Garishly erect clit stabbing up from wriggling thighs.
Fermenting quim covered by piss-dyed golden curls.
Eyes blank jade beads.
Like a half-mauled carcass, Jessica lay twitching quietly. Surrounded by an increasing frenzy of bodies in rut.
"Yes. Always."
Always love.
Her frailties only proved how much Jessica really cared. Her love to be loved could be termed excessive only by those for whom love meant so very little.
Some of them had put Jessica on trial for her capacity for love. Because they couldn't handle it. The power her pure love held out to them.
She had thought they had loved her.
But now they were treating her rudely.
What had Jessica done except to follow love blindly?
