"Listen, your combinations are great; you've got a fantastic imagination, but your experience is limited. Why don't you take a chair? We'll improvise for you." Bob stared suspiciously at her but agreed to let her take over.
Sue directed Tom to remove his clothes. She pulled off her blouse. At last all three were naked--Sue motioned them into a huddle, they whispered together for a few seconds then broke. Sue stood in front of Tim, Andrea behind. They began to kiss and lick a path down his body. Sue began at the chest. She kissed across it, nibbled at his nipples, darted a tongue under his arms and traced the line down to his navel. Andrea licked down his spine. It ended in two dimples above his buttocks. She caressed these, then ...
Chapter 1
Without air conditioning, hot summer nights in New York City are not for fucking. Unless you happen to be horny. Andrea was. That night--and almost every other night. Tim had been out of town for a week. The intense rehearsals for an off-off Broadway play which had been rushed into production to take advantage of a sudden open date, combined with the hours of the temporary office job she had taken for immediate cash had left her no time to answer the call of her cunt. So, when a queenly insult on the part of her fag director caused production to be withdrawn, she arrived home after working overtime to face a free evening. Her pussy was snarling like a raging wildcat.
She peeled off her sticky clothes, automatically examining herself in the mirror. She was not tall, but her lack of height was no drawback. A heart-shaped face framed by thick black hair fell to surround her high, rounded breasts. The nipples were half-erect. Andrea was thinking about sex. Black hair from under her arms curled along the side of her torso. Tim liked it that way. Andrea did too. She liked everything about herself. Her stomach was firm and flat, the shadow of muscle traced under the smooth skin. The hair of her sex, black and red mingling, tufted and curled, reaching to join her thighs, and trailed below to her ass.
Her skin was moist, crying out for attention; its odor steamed into the room. Andrea stretched. She buried her nose in her armpit. She shuddered. What she wanted would have to wait. Too exhausted to shower, she threw herself onto the bed, hoping some air might breeze through the open window to cool her. She closed her eyes. When she opened them it was two hours later and she was damper and hotter than when she had gone to sleep. She ran her hands along her body. She was really soaking. She touched her nipples. They were fully erect. As she touched them, the dream she had just had flashed into her mind. Hard as it was, her nipple rose in her hand.
She had dreamed about a long thing, something like a vibrator but not a vibrator. It was alternately soft and hard, first a tongue then a cock. As a tongue it was thick and soft with a hint of roughness. It licked her across her mouth, toyed with her tongue, then slid out to lick her cheeks, her eyes, her nipples, each in turn. It slid down her body, catching itself in her pubic hair, flicking the hairs out of the way as it cleared a path to her vagina. It licked each lip separately, down the length of one, up the length of the other. It flattened itself out and serviced both together, moistened the crack between the lips, making Andrea moan with desire. Then it entered, becoming hard as it did--becoming a cock, fulfilling its promise as a tongue--penetrating and stretching her vagina to its limit. In automatic response, Andrea raised her legs to clasp a man's back but the thing in her was attached to no man. Andrea's legs crossed each other. Her toes curled and quivered as the disembodied fuck-all went through its maddening and delightful changes. Recalling the dream, she fingered her nipples, cupped each breast with a palm, released one hand and started to explore her body. The light flashed on.
Andrea blinked. Her eyes took a second to readjust to the world of reality. "Sorry I walked in when I did," an amused feminine voice said. Andrea focused. Sue, her roommate, stood in the doorway. "Do you want to work off your head of steam or can I come along for the ride?"
Andrea held out her arms. Sue set her bag on the dresser, walked across the room, kicking off her shoes and let Andrea enclose her in her arms. She bent her head, parted her lips and slid her tongue into Andrea's mouth. In a grateful rush of thanks, Andrea moaned her appreciation, pulling Sue to her as tightly as she could. Sue squealed, opened her mouth wider, trying to draw Andrea's lips completely between her own. Sue's tongue was agile and expert. Andrea sucked hungrily on it. Their mouths revolved around each other, teeth scraping against teeth in the girls' effort to join as closely as possible.
Sue mounted Andrea, forcing her onto her back. Andrea's legs opened wide and Sue lay between them. The silky material of her skirt rubbed against Andrea's vaginal lips, irritating and delighting them at the same time. Sue released Andrea's mouth and bent to kiss her breasts. She pushed them together and licked and sucked each nipple in rapid succession.
Andrea was eager for culmination. Her everyday horniness combined with the stimulation of her dream and now the actuality of Sue stretched out on her body had raised her to the pitch where only the slightest touch would send her soaring to the heights. Already Sue's skirt was soaked where it had been rubbing against Andrea's vagina. Andrea tossed her head violently on her pillow. She breathed through clenched teeth. She raised her hands from Sue's back, brought them to the girl's shoulders and pushed them insistently downward.
Sue took the hint. Abandoning the luscious breasts she had raised to hard perfection, she licked her way down Andrea's hot, wet stomach. Andrea thrust her hips up into Sue's face. Sensing the urgency, Sue lost no time on preliminaries. She slid her welcome tongue between Andrea's cunt lips. Above her, Andrea gasped out her pleasure. Enclosing those lips as she had enclosed Andrea's mouth, Sue's tongue now zeroed in on Andrea's throbbing love bud as erect as the nipples which Sue had just licked. As Sue's tongue tip met the clitoris tip Andrea lost control of herself. She pressed her palms against the bed, digging her fingers into the mattress. Sue grabbed her hips to steady them and keep her tongue in continuous contact with the clitoris. Andrea's love-juices streamed down unsucked beneath Sues chin.
Sue concentrated on Andrea's clitoris. She licked around it in a slow motion, first clockwise, then around the other way. When Andrea's deep sighing and grunting above sent the message that she was being driven out of her mind, Sue ran the underside of her tongue along just the top of the tiny bud. Her hands slid down Andrea's hips, one finger ready to push into the tight and anxious asshole. This suggestion was enough for Andrea. With a gasp she jerked her hips tight against Sue's face and at the same time threw her legs around Sue's neck. Sue moaned. She loved the smell of lust surrounding her. She diminished her attention to the clitoris and began to lap up the juices freely flowing from the vulva of her roommate.
Andrea's legs relaxed their grip around Sue's neck. She lifted her hands from the bed and raised Sue's head by her damp hair. Sue smiled up at her. Her eyes were soft and dreamy and her mouth and face were wet. Andrea pushed herself into a sitting position, bent forward and slid her tongue into Sue's mouth. She licked it, tasting her own intimate smells mingled with Sue's saliva. She drew Sue's tongue into her own mouth and sucked hungrily at it. She heard Sue trying to say something.
Sue pulled her tongue out of Andrea's mouth swallowing hard. "Hold it a second," she gasped, "Let me take off these fucking clothes." She sat up on her knees. Andrea reached out eagerly to help her. She unbuttoned Sue's blouse as Sue unzippered her skirt. Sue waited for Andrea to slip her out of her blouse, then pulled her skirt over her head and sent it flying across the room.
Andrea pulled Sue toward her. As she licked Sue's lips and tongue, she reached behind to unhook her brassiere. Sue welcomed the attention. Her own hands were at Andrea's nipples. She let them hang on her palms, not squeezing but undulating her palms around them. Andrea fumbled at the bra hooks and threw her head back excitedly. Sue locked her neck. Andrea ground her teeth with pleasure. Finally she unhooked Sue's bra. Still tonguing Andrea's neck, Sue shrugged herself out of her bra. It fell between the two girls. Sue impatiently whisked it off the bed. Her breasts swung free and fell hard against Andrea's.
Andrea stroked them along the sides. Sue had begun to perspire. The wet drops grazed Andrea's fingertips. She gathered Sue's drops of perspiration together and rubbed them along Sue's breasts, working her way toward the huge red nipples. She brushed' Sue's mouth with her lips and looked into Sue's eyes. The two girls smiled at each other. Sue sighed softly. For the moment she was satisfied to let Andrea do the work.
Andrea took one of Sue's nipples in each hand, not between the thumb and forefinger but between the first and second fingers. She rolled the length of her digits along the nipples. They were hardening and the prickles on each teat rose. Andrea released them for a second, dug her fingers into Sue's armpits, came out with Sue's sweat on her fingers and moistened the girl's nipples with it. Sue felt the sensation on her raised nipples flowing into her chest, dividing--some seeming to flow down the inside of her chest, some along the inside of her back, melting and warming, heating and exciting--both streams converging on her groin where they joined once again and released the flow of juices from her cunt. The odor of cunt and the odor of perspiration drifted into Andrea's nostrils. She breathed deeply. She let go one of Sue's breasts and dropped her hand to Sue's sex.
"Sue," she murmured. "Your panties are still on. They're disintegrating." She reached her hand under the elastic. Sue's bush crackled in her hand. Sue elevated herself slightly. Andrea pulled the panties down over the wide hips. Sue swung her legs out over the floor and let the underwear drop free.
"All clear," she smiled, pivoting to face Andrea but stiffened as she did. As she turned, her eye had caught the open window. Someone was on the fire escape looking in.
Andrea sensed the interruption of Sue's mood. "What is it?" she asked. Sue pulled her toward her in the start of an embrace. "Don't panic," she whispered.
Andrea hesitated. Sue kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Keep cool. Don't say anything." Sue instructed. "And don't turn around," she breathed.
Andrea hissed into her ear, "Sue, tell me what it is."
"There's a man on the fire escape."
Startled, Andrea involuntarily began to turn her head. Sue stopped her with a passionate kiss. "Do what I say," she breathed into Andrea's mouth.
Andrea asked, "Can you see who it is?"
"No, it's too dark." She led Andrea's head to her nipples. As Andrea went through the sucking motions. Sue tried to get a clearer look out the fire escape. But she saw nothing. It was too dark.
Andrea's head came up, "Is he still there?"
"Hmm hmm."
"What should we do?"
"What do you want to do?"
Andrea thought for a second. There was no telling how long the man had been on the fire escape or what he was planning. Unless he was armed, it was hardly possible that he could subdue both girls at once. There were two choices: they could try to frighten him off or they could ignore him.
"Can you see what he's doing?" she asked Sue.
"As far as I can tell, he's just watching us."
"I don't mind."
Sue murmured, "It makes me nervous."
Andrea palmed Sue's cunt gently. "Relax. I'll take your mind off it." She caressed the plump lips. She inserted just the tip of a finger between them and used the two surrounding fingers to squeeze the lips against it. Sue's juice flowed onto her finger which she revolved slowly and maddeningly in the one spot. Sue strained against the intruding finger, trying to draw it into her. "Is he still there?" Andrea teased.
"Andy," Sue pleaded. Andrea looked at her mockingly. "I've got an idea," she giggled. "Let's ask him in."
"You're out of your mind," Sue moaned, rotating her hungry cunt against Andrea's finger which still prodded but did not enter. Each time her movements threatened to draw it completely into her soaking lips, Andrea withdrew keeping only the finger pad poised against the voracious vulva. Sue was torn between the desire to bring herself to culmination and the desire to identify the man on the fire escape. "That finger's driving me up the wall," she gasped. "Stick it in or take it out," She clutched Andrea's fish in her hand ready to suction it all into her body. "We'll pretend he's not there," she pleaded.
"Maybe he'd like to join us," Andrea said.
"He might be armed."
"That's the idea."
Andrea released Sue's cunt and lunged for the open window. "Andy," Sue tried to stop her but the other was too quick and had already thrust her head and chest outside the window, supporting herself on the sill with her palms. The man outside was unprepared for this sudden move. He started back, confused, unsure whether to run. Andrea chirped, "Hi there. Care to come in?"
At that moment, someone in the apartment above switched on a light. The diagonal spill passed above their heads but gave enough light for Andrea to see the intruder clearly. When the light came on, he panicked and half stood. But he did not run.
"Oh, hell," Andrea muttered disappointed. "It's only Bob." Sue made a face. "Bob?" she asked. "The janitor," Andrea reminded her. She pushed a place for herself beside Andrea at the window. The intruder stared fearfully at the two girls whose bare breasts hung out over the window sill.
"Stay away from me," he pleaded. "Just stay away."
Sue guffawed. "That's a switch." Her breasts bounced up and down on the window sill. The intruder stared at them unhappily, swallowing heavily. "He's afraid of us," Sue laughed. "Stop laughing," the man whispered. "Somebody will hear." Sue's response was a fresh burst of laughter. Andrea joined in. "It's okay to watch," she said. "Just as long as you don't hear anything."
"Please," the young man whispered. "Please. Somebody will see. They'll tell my uncle. Please be quiet."
Andrea's laughing died away. The young man had kneeled to speak to the girls. He hadn't dared to come closer but stared anxiously at them from the rail of the fire escape, less than two feet away. The look of abject terror only intensified his naturally ugly features. Large ears protruded from a shaggy mop of dark, unwashed hair which grew low on his forehead. His eyes were set close together. His nose was a thin strip, culminating in a thick bulb which hung above the thin line of his upper lip. His lower lip, another thin line, seemed separated by some inches from the upper, topping the lower part of his protruding jaw. Taken as a whole, his features marked him as a living relic of the Stone Age.
He had raised his hands in a pleading gesture to the two girls. Andrea noticed that the nails had been bitten nearly to the quick. What was left was covered along with the hands in a layer of permanent grime. A picture of those hands feeling her body suddenly flashed into Andrea's mind and caused her to squirm uncomfortably. "Do you like to look, Bob, or do you like to touch?"
"I didn't hurt you," he whimpered. He looked around miserably for a way of escape. He would have to pass the girls to get to the stairs. If they hadn't been three flights up he might have jumped. He faced Andrea. "Why don't you just forget it?" He wiped the sweat from his face.
Andrea's back began to ache from being half in, half out the window. She hoisted a leg over the sill and pulled herself out onto the fire escape. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Come on, Sue. Maybe we'll catch a breeze." Sue followed Andrea through the window. The sweating intruder stared at them slack-jawed. "You can't come out like that," he stammered. "You're naked." He cowered against the fire escape railing. "You'd better get- back inside before somebody sees."
"Don't you want to see, Bob?" Andrea demanded. "Didn't you come up here to get a good look? You're getting one. Look." She positioned herself in front of his crouching body, her hands on her hips, her pelvis thrust forward. He stared up at her, looking into her bushy crotch. "This is what you came to see, isn't it, Bob?" Andrea taunted. "You're seeing it. I'm showing it to you. Look at my tits, Bob. Big, aren't they? My nipples. Red. Firm. Hard. How about my cunt? You like my cunt? See my cunt? It's hot and it's wet. You ever see a hot, wet cunt before, Bob?"
Bob buried his face in his hands. "Somebody'll see," he mumbled. "Somebody'll see. Get back inside." He looked at Sue now sitting outside the window, "Both of you, please, go back inside. Somebody will see. They'll tell my uncle. Please."
Andrea ignored him. She continued her taunting. "Answer me, Bob? Isn't this what you came for?"
"No. No," he moaned.
"You can have it, Bob. Give me your hand. How would you like to run your hand over my wet pussy? Huh? How about it? Take out your cock, Bob. I'll bet it's hard. Let me play with your cock and you can run your hands around my pussy."
"Don't say that," the man gasped. "Go away. Go away."
"Give me your hand, Bob. I'll give you a feel." She stretched out a hand toward him. He recoiled, sobbing. The tears streamed through his fingers. The saliva poured from his mouth. "Don't touch me," he pleaded. "Go away. Don't touch me. Please, don't touch me." His piteous sobbing threatened to tear him apart. Andrea and Sue, naked on the fire escape, exchanged confused glances.
Chapter 2
Andrea turned on the shower. "If Tim gets here while I'm showering," she instructed Sue, "tell him to strip and join me." She draped a towel around her head. "That's an order, Sue," she said. "Hey!" Sue protested, "You mean hands off?"
"The first time around," Andrea answered. "You can come in for dessert."
Sue pouted. "I like to whip my own cream."
"Hands off," Andrea warned. She stepped into the shower. Ordinarily, she and Sue never quibbled over Tim, although officially he was her boyfriend. She adjusted the shower head. A fine spray shot over her. The warm water streamed down. She turned to let it reach every part of her body. If Sue wanted Tim, she didn't begrudge her. But today she wanted him first. Her male-empty week was making her ache for the best--Tim was the best she had. If she wanted, she could have crawled into bed with the first man she met on the street but she wanted to take the edge off her seven day's abstinence with a guaranteed product. "So, hands off, Sue," she muttered aloud. "Me first for the golden horn."
She began to lather a bar of soap in her hands. Creamy and white, she rubbed it over herself. "Down, girl," she thought. "This is no substitute. Hurry, hurry, hurry," she sang under her breath. The words reminded her of a sideshow barker announcing a star attraction. Her and Tim. Three shows a day. She giggled. "I wonder who'd be in the audience?" She thought suddenly about Bob, the moronic janitor. A picture of a circus audience hit her. All would look like Bob. As they filed in to take their seats they'd each be given a window frame with a Venetian blind on it. They'd sit behind to look at the show: She laughed out loud. They could even raise and lower the blinds in rhythm to the lovemaking. Or just lower the blinds and pretend they weren't there at all. She burst out laughing. Where the hell was Tim? She didn't want to waste all afternoon daydreaming in the shower steam.
Three flights below, Selma Marantz entered the building's vestibule in fierce debate with herself. Loaded with parcels, walking from the taxi to the building entrance, she had caught a glimpse of a young man farther up the street. He was strolling in her direction. Even at that distance, she was able to determine that he was gorgeous. She had a strong desire to position herself outside the building, wait until he came by, and invite him up for a drink. Why not? She'd done no less at bars. Selma was no stranger to bars. Some of her most memorable evenings began after three a.m. Saturday closing time, with a casual pick-up. But on those occasions, she had the excuse of alcohol and a convivial atmosphere. The crudity of her present desire was too strong, even or her. Regretfully, she decided the young man would have to be filed into her category of might-have-beens. She dawdled in the hallway. She would be able to snatch a quick look at him when he walked by the building. She consoled herself. A second look was at least a feast for the eyes and better than no feast at all.
She lost her grip on one of her boxes. She tried to back against the wall to push it under her arm but she was unsuccessful. The packages fell. She kneeled to pick them up and was nearly hit in the face as the glass street door was opened. "Hey, watch it," she said angrily. "You nearly took my face off with that door." She stopped abruptly. Her involuntary assailant was the "gorgeous" blond young man. "Oh," she swallowed. He was wearing a pair of tight jeans. Her eyes were on a level with his crotch--it was obvious he wore no underwear, "Calm down, Selma, she instructed herself. "You've seen head before. Lots of it." She smiled up at him. "I dropped my boxes."
He smiled. "Sorry." His teeth were bright white in his tanned face. His features, boyish but not pretty, hinted of a ruggedness that experience would shape. He was a knock-out now. At thirty-five he would be irresistible. At sixty-five, he would still be racing up scores. Selma decided he was too good for the file of might-have-beens. She definitely wanted him in fond memories.
"Let me give you a hand." He stooped to help pick up the parcels. Selma's heart gave a little flutter. He smelled of the sea and the sun, "I hope nothing's broken."
"No. No bottles," Selma answered. "I'll open the door." She stood quickly, allowing her breast to graze his face. She mounted the one step to the locked inner door, took her key from her handbag and unlocked it. "Can you manage?" she asked.
"Sure." He had piled the parcels on top of each other and now he balanced them on the bottom box resting on his forearms. Selma admired his golden arms against the white boxes. She held the door open. As he came through he had to twist sideways to pass. His ass brushed her hand. Selma's fingers twitched. She consoled herself. A second look was at least a feast for the eyes and better than no feast at all.
She lost her grip on one of her boxes. She tried to back against the wall to push it under her arm but she was unsuccessful. The packages fell. She kneeled to pick them up and was nearly hit in the face as the glass street door was opened. "Hey, watch it," she said angrily. "You nearly took my face off with that door." She stopped abruptly. Her involuntary assailant was the "gorgeous" blond young man. "Oh," she swallowed. He was wearing a pair of tight jeans. Her eyes were on a level with his crotch--it was obvious he wore no underwear. "Calm down, Selma," she instructed herself. "You've seen head before. Lots of it." She smiled up at him. "I dropped my boxes."
He smiled. "Sorry." His teeth were bright white in his tanned face. His features, boyish but not pretty, hinted of a ruggedness that experience would shape. He was a knock-out now. At thirty-five he would be irresistible. At sixty-five, he would still be racing up scores. Selma decided he was too good for the file of might-have-beens. She definitely wanted him in fond memories.
"Let me give you a hand." He stooped to help pick up the parcels. Selma's heart gave a little flutter. He smelled of the sea and the sun. "I hope nothing's broken."
"No. No bottles," Selma answered. "I'll open the door." She stood quickly, allowing her breast to graze his face. She mounted the one step to the locked inner door, took her key from her handbag and unlocked it. "Can you manage?" she asked.
"Sure." He had piled the parcels on top of each other and now he balanced them on the bottom box resting on his forearms. Selma admired his golden arms against the white boxes. She held the door open. As he came through he had to twist sideways to pass. His ass brushed her hand. Selma's fingers twitched.
room. I keep it going all summer. Can I offer you a drink?"
"Number Two," Tim thought.
"The least I can do after you lugged those packages up for me."
Tim groaned mentally. She wasn't bad looking. She might even be passable in bed. Maybe fun. But her approach was turning him off. "I'm not thirsty."
"Yes. Alcohol is too warm in this weather," she said as though she were answering a question. She sensed his resistance. "He's not interested," she thought. "Maybe he thinks I'm too old." The challenge of the huntress overcame her. This beautiful young man was a rare beast that she intended to capture. She sensed his resistance but she also sensed the hesitation on his part. What could she offer him that would be unique? She knew she didn't have all day to think. A blunt attack seemed most direct yet at the same time most provocative. She decided to take the risk and improvise as she went along.
She crossed the room toward him. "Well, if you won't join me, I'll just have to drink alone," she purred. With a remarkably steady hand that betrayed none of her nervousness, she zipped down his fly. Clutching the metal tab, she stared into his eyes. She thrust her hand into his pants, and slid it down between his legs. His penis, surprised, had not begun to stiffen. Soft and fat, she lifted it out of his pants. Again her hands descended. The gentlest of embraces closed over his balls and brought them into the air. Cock and hairy balls flopped through the opening in his pants. They didn't flop long. The sack the balls dangled in began to retract. The cock stiffened and grew in length.
Tim's surprise was genuine, his excitement mechanical. He was curious. Selma had jumped Points 3 to 5 to land on 10 or maybe beyond. It was a hot day. The cool air flowing in from the bedroom made the apartment bearable. He was always ready to fuck. Let her call the moves, he decided. Whatever happened, he knew Andrea would be able to handle the overload.
Selma was rubbing the shaft of his cock between her palms. Tim reached for the bottom of his pullover, ready to slip it over his head, but Selma stopped him, "No. Not yet." Ideas were flooding her head. She wanted to put one or two into action. "Sit down." She pulled one of the chairs back from the table. Tim started to sit. The metal teeth of his zipper cut into the underside of his cock. He winced. Selma saw the trouble. She unhooked his belt, unsnapped the top button of his pants, and allowed them to drop a few inches. "That's better." He sat comfortably. His prick had begun to droop but he didn't mind. He was amused. He wanted to see what she would do next.
A long cabinet ran the length of the wall at a right angle to the dining table. A turntable rested on it; the speakers stood on the floor at either side of the cabinet. Selma opened one of the cabinet doors. Her fingers skimmed the record albums on the shelf inside. She selected an album and withdrew it. She removed the plastic dust cover from the turntable, then switched on the amplifier. "It takes a minute to warm up," she said almost to herself.
"Take your time," Tim said agreeably.
Selma slid the record onto the turntable, lifted the tone arm and placed it on the disk. A brassy accompaniment for striptease blared into the room. "Take it off. Take it off," the trombones slithered.
Selma caught the rhythm and sent her hips swinging in four directions at once. "In grateful appreciation for your package carrying and for the entertainment you are soon about to offer me, I'd like to do a little entertaining on my part."
Tim grinned broadly. He sat back in the chair--his elbows thrown over the back, his legs spread apart, his cock resting on his balls.
Selma had not missed a beat. Continuing to bump and grind, she turned her back on him and began to unbutton her sleeveless blouse. When she had it opened, she slowly let the blouse fall to the floor. She turned to face Tim. She lifted her hands to her hair to undo the bow she had used to tie her hair back. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders.
Tim suppressed a yawn. Her striptease was expert in its movements but he had the feeling that the act was mechanical, something she might have learned by heart.
Selma bent, retrieved her blouse from the floor and twirled it over her head like a lasso. She grinned seductively at Tim. He ducked as she threw it. His prick was shriveling fast. He stood. Selma stopped dancing. Tim untied his sneakers and kicked them off. He stepped out of his pants, draped them over the chair, slipped his pullover over his head. He stood naked before Selma. Casually, he walked to the record player and pushed the reject switch. The music stopped.
Selma shivered. She tried to say something bright that would retrieve the situation but she could think of nothing. Her mouth remained closed. The tone arm descended to its rest. The turntable clicked itself off. Naked, Tim turned to Selma. She smiled brightly at him. He reached out his hand and brushed the hair off her face. He moved very close to her, put his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra. He slipped it off her. Her breasts stood out large and beautiful. The nipples were pink, big as half-dollars. He pulled down the zipper on her skirt. He helped her out of it. He removed her shoes. She started to take off her slip but he stopped her with a touch of his hand and completed undressing her himself.
Finally she was naked. He put his hands around her waist and drew her toward him. They stood for a few moments pressed against each other, feeling each other's heat. She felt his prick stiffening against her lower belly. She had a sudden urge to call out his name but as she started to, she found she had forgotten it. She lowered her head and buried her cheek against his chest.
His hands trailed down to clasp her buttocks. Her hips were wide but fairly firm. She had once been heavier but had lost weight. His fingers felt the tiny wrinkles where her ass joined her thighs. In a quick movement, he dropped to his knees. He pressed his face against the black bush of her cunt. She traced the hollows of his ears with her fingers. He lowered his mouth to meet the opening of her cunt. And he kissed the length and the width of it. He heard her sigh. He opened his mouth to try to suck it within him. Her legs began to tremble, He arranged himself so that he was seated on the floor with his legs in front of him. He forced open her legs and guided her hips to ease her onto his shoulders, her legs reaching to the floor behind him. His mouth still held her cunt. He opened his mouth wide around it and slid his tongue in.
Selma inhaled sharply. She dug her toes into the carpet as her own warmth and the warmth of his mouth flooded her groin. She squirmed against Tim's face as he began to lick the inside of each lip. He felt her dripping cunt undulating against his mouth. His prick grew hard. He pursed the lips of his mouth and pushed them as far as he could into her. The sides of her cunt secreted moisture around his mouth. His tongue searched for her clitoris. She felt him probing and tried to move to make her clitoris contact his tongue. She was losing control--her hips moved of their own volition against his face. He let himself fall onto his back, bringing her with him--she fell forward, her hands flat on the rug, her knees spread in an inverted V. She rubbed her dripping cunt back and forth over his mouth. He found her clitoris at last. All her body trembled convulsively as he licked it, sucked it with just the tip of his lips, threatened it with his teeth. She pounded her hips into his face.
Tim felt his prick stretching rigidly in the air, his balls drawn up tight against his ass ridge. He slid from beneath her. With glazed eyes, she turned to watch him. He seated himself near her. Tenderly, he embraced her. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. She sucked greedily on his tongue, ran her hand down his body and squeezed his throbbing prick. In a second he had lubricated her hand and his shaft passed easily through her fingers. Their tongues ran in and out of each other's mouths. Both breathed heavily and tried to draw the other as close as possible. He wanted his prick to feel the warmth of her wet cunt. He lowered her onto her back. She let her legs fall open. He kneeled between them. He guided his cock to the opening of her cunt. The head slid in. As the shaft followed, he sank onto her. Their pubic hairs mingled, then parted as he began the rhythmic movements of fucking. He was very close to coming. Each rise and fall drew his sperm up. His cock incessantly stiffened. He was aware of her, but only peripherally, as a means to increase his own pleasure. He heard the suction of his engorged cock in her cunt and increased the pace, helplessly delighted. Beating faster, knowing he would come, yet wanting to prolong it, helpless to do anything but accelerate his pounding, he felt the blood drain from his hands, his seed gather momentum and with a rush that set his cock to jerking, shoot out of his body into her.
His cock quivered spasmodically for a few seconds. He fell heavily onto her. She had reached her climax seconds before he came. In her ecstasy, she had remembered his name and called out, "Tim." But he had not heard her and now she forgot it again. They lay silent for several moments. His dwindling cock slipped out of her body. When his breathing returned to normal, Tim rose from the floor and went into her bathroom. She heard the steady stream as he urinated. The toilet flushed. She heard him run the water in the tap, then still naked, he returned. He dressed and quietly left her apartment.
Chapter 3
"No. He has no sense of time," Sue agreed. "But he wouldn't be Tim if he had." She flicked her cigarette out the window. "I think it's going to rain." She and Andrea sat on the bed under the window. "I'm going to take a shower. If he's not here when I come out, we can go to a movie."
"A movie," Andrea snorted. "I don't want to go to movies. I want to be in them."
"Next week, honey," Sue promised.
"I'm lazy," Andrea wailed. "What I should do is have a good photographer take my pictures. But I don't have the money. When I do have the money, I blow it on something else. Why can't my income match my ambition?" She stared out the window. "It is going to rain. Where is that bastard? I hope he gets soaked." Abruptly she sat up. "All right, Sue. Take a shower. We'll go to the movies."
She rose from the bed. She opened the closet door and took out a bathrobe. "Are you in love with him?" she asked over her shoulder.
"In love with who?"
"Tim," said Sue. And added sweetly, "The bastard."
"How do I know?" Andrea mumbled angrily. She got up and weighed herself on the scale in the corner of the room. "You read too much," she accused Sue.
"Never opened a book in my life."
"Then I read too much," Andrea stepped off the scale. "How should I know if I'm in love?"
Sue sighed, "How much do you weigh?"
"Twenty pounds less than you, fatso."
Sue retorted, "If I had eight hundred dollars I could go to a spa where they would take off my twenty pounds in a week. Like that." She snapped her fingers.
"Uh uh." Andrea shook her head. You mean like that." She snapped her fingers three times. Very slowly.
They heard a key turn in the lock of the door to the apartment. "I wonder who," Sue said. The door in the other room was opened then slammed shut. "Hello, you bastard," Sue shouted through the bedroom door.
"You alone?" Tim shouted back.
"Come and see."
"I'm starving," Tim said walking through the front room to the bedroom. "What's in the refrigerator?"
"Oh, you only came to eat," Sue mocked him.
"Well, I'm hungry," Tim smiled.
Andrea threw herself down onto the bed. "We're going to the movies," she announced.
"Blubber in the Shower," Sue chirped brightly. "Me. Goes on in two minutes." She threw her robe over her shoulder and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Andrea lay on the bed facing the window, her back to Tim. Her skin, faintly olive, stretched tightly on her small frame. The soft curve of her hip rounding down to the trail of her assline began to arouse him. Outside the sun was being covered by clouds. The light grayed and the part of her turned toward him became deeply shadowed. A slight breeze ran through the room. She heard him approach the bed.
He stood over her. "Miss me?"
"You were only gone a week."
"How's the play?"
"Called off."
"Great. Let's get out of town."
"Can't. No money."
Tim grinned. "Ugh. Money. Who needs money?"
"If you're hungry, look in the icebox," Andrea told him.
"It can wait," he said cheerfully.
She continued to stare aimlessly at the window, She heard the metallic whisk as he pulled down his zipper, then the sounds of clothes being thrown on a chair. She felt the bed sag--Tim stretched behind her, his stiff cock pressed against her buttocks. "You're taking a lot for granted," she said coolly. He lifted the hair from her neck and kissed her softly. She ignored his caress. "You said you were coming at three. It's four-thirty."
"What's the difference?" He gently bit the back of her neck.
She yanked her head away and turned around to face him. "The mood is gone." Even as she said it, she regretted having turned to face him. His blue-green eyes regarded her with frank amusement. When they had first met, he characterized her attempts at moodiness as "actressy." He refused to take them seriously. "Shit, Andy," he had told her, "you're basically a chick who likes fun. Anything else just doesn't come across." He might have been right. She didn't know. All she knew was that his presence aroused her. If that was love, she was in love with him. Whatever it might be called, she wanted him. She knew that he desired her. As they stared into each other's eyes, she heard him swallowing with effort. She eased closer to him, parting her thighs slightly. His rigid length passed between them. She closed her thighs around his cock.
Andrea slowly rotated his cock with her firm thighs. The upper side of his shaft crackled against her pubic hairs. The sides and underside were enclosed in the softness of her skin. The combination of the prickling, the softness, and her movement caused him to murmur pleasurably. As she rotated, she started a slight thrusting movement. He reached out his hand to hold her hips. Her skin prickled beneath his touch. He wanted to draw her closer. He placed his palm over her ass cheeks. He felt her heat emanating from the crack between them. He slid his hand lower and encountered the head of his cock where it protruded from between her thighs. It was wet with his secretions. As his palm brushed it, his hand was moistened. He withdrew his hand and returned it to her ass. With a moist finger he traced the vertical line dividing her cheeks. She raised her upper leg slightly. The skin of his wet cock clung to his moist skin. Slowly the two skins separated till only his cock head was pasted to her thigh. Then they separated and his erection fell heavily against her lower thigh. The sudden release of his cock into the cooler air of the room made him aware that his sex was giving off tremendous heat. Once again Andrea lowered her upper leg and he was entirely enclosed between her legs.
She brought her hands to his shoulders to push him gently onto his back. His prick still gripped between her legs, she rolled on top of him. She lowered her head to kiss the hairless nipples of his chest. Above, her hands caressed his muscular shoulders. He brought up his hand from where it has been squeezing her ass and his other hand which had begun to stroke her breast. He took each of her hands into each of his own. Their fingers clutched and intertwined. She pulled herself up and kissed his chin. She brought her lips to his forehead, the corners of his eyes. He closed his eyes and she kissed the closed lids. She licked the sides of his nose and bit the tip with her teeth. She kissed the dimple between his nose and upper lip. Then she lowered her mouth to his. She twisted her head sideways and bit the corner of his upper lip. She made a trail of little bites to the opposite corner. Then she did the same to the bottom lip. Their hands, still locked, tightened. She felt his breath against his mouth. Below, she had not stopped the gentle squeezing of his cock between her thighs.
He opened his mouth to meet hers, their upper and lower lips joined around their open mouths. She extended her tongue tip and licked his lips. She forced her tongue between the inside of his lip and his teeth. She ran her tongue over his teeth's sharp edges. She felt his tongue licking the underside of hers. She retreated into her own mouth. He followed. She sucked slowly on his tongue. He withdrew slightly. But it was only to encircle her mouth completely with his and grip her mouth with his teeth. She cried out. Her head was swimming. She was ready for him. She wanted him. The rotation of his cock between her thighs had excited her. Their wet pubic mats rotated happily against each other. His harden bulged powerfully against her. Still, she refused to let him enter. She wanted to prolong the ecstasy of this excitement until neither could hold out and she would be forced to let him enter her to bring them both to culmination. -She released one of her hands and slipped it between his back and the mattress. He was wet with perspiration.
She ran her hand down his tapering torso to the tight roundness of his ass. She withdrew her mouth from his; kissing her way down his body--the sides of his neck, his chest, the muscular ridges of his belly, running her tongue inside his navel, then below to the crisscross pattern that began his pubic hairs--until she reached his cock. Released from her flaming thighs, it stood perpendicular to his body. The cock-head was red--engorged to its limit, it swelled, trying to grow bigger. She touched the underside of the shaft with a finger. A clear drop of liquid welled out of the head. It held the shape of a little ball for a second on his cock opening, then thickly and slowly began to slide down the shaft. With a fingertip she slid it along to the base of his cock where his blond hairy balls were drawn up tight against his body.
With the same fingertip Andrea touched the hole at the tip of his cock. His sex twitched. She smiled and ran her finger on the skin around the opening. More twitching. Lying between his legs, she touched his thighs and raised them slightly. He brought them to rest around her neck. She lay in the tight circle bounded in back by his legs and in front by his cock and balls which had been raised slightly as he lifted his legs. She opened her mouth to draw his bails between her lips. The hairs tickled her throat. A fresh drop of fluid traveled down his cock and landed on her nose. She released his balls and locked the bulging underside of his cock. His legs tightened around her neck.
Feeling his excitement, she exhaled sharply. Her own breathing was rapid. She brought her arms around from under his thighs. Her hands tightened around them. She was becoming unsteady in her excitement. Andrea continued to lock Tim's cock. First along each side with her tongue tip, then a quick dip to tease his balls again. Her nose at the joining of his balls and cock base sniffed the fragrant flesh. Back to the cock to grip it sideways in her mouth and lick the shaft with the underside of her tongue. His hips rocked excitedly. She held on to his thighs to keep him from rising too high on the bed. He stretched his long arms down to grip her head with his hands. She could feel his toes digging into her backside. His hips Thrust up. She was battered in the mouth as he tried to rain in his inflamed cock. She pulled herself up by his thighs so that her mouth was poised directly over his cock head.
A light rain began to fall and the room was cooler but neither Andrea nor Tim was aware of the change. Their heads throbbed and their bodies exuded a continuous sweat. She held her tongue low in her mouth so when his cock entered it would have a clear path down her throat. She suctioned it in slowly then clenched her teeth, closing them to act as a gate in front of it. His cock head gently bumped against her teeth. She ran the fronts of her teeth along it. Along the side teeth she let him push his cock between her cheek and the ridge. He tried to knock through the closed wall of her teeth into the mouth. She slid her teeth along it once more until it was rammed against the front two. Then she allowed him to enter her mouth. He gasped uncontrollably. His head rolled on the pillow. He threw his forearm over his eyes as his cock slid deeper into her wet mouth.
As she sucked on it, her saliva flowed and mingled with his generously seeping juices. His cock was steeped in both their moistures. She sucked harder. Her mouth filled with fluids. She was forced to swallow. As she did his cock eased further into her mouth. Now she wanted it all in her and she opened wide to receive it. She strained to feel the hairs at the base of the shaft brush her mouth. She gagged as his head hit her vulva but kept determinedly on. She milked the shaft with her teeth. Deep in her throat she tried to squeeze the head of his cock by swallowing. Above her she heard his shuddering breathing. Her cunt was sopping. She was torn between the desire to have him fuck her there and taste his thick come at the same time. The decision was made for her. She felt his prick begin to stiffen beyond endurable limits. She slid her mouth part way up to the shaft just below the head and began a rapid up-and-down motion along the length of it. He gripped her head in his hands, forcing her to faster motion. A sudden thrust of his hips into her face and he began to spurt. She choked but quickly gripped his shaft between her teeth and enclosed the jerking head within her cheeks, allowing her to continue sucking him as he jetted his come. She let the thick come build up into a slight ball on her tongue, savoring its warmth. When his jerking stopped, she forced the fluid down her throat with a slight grunt of satisfaction. In swallowing, her cheeks pressed his sensitive cock. An additional tiny spasm resulted. A thin trickle issued and she swallowed it with the rest.
Tim's cock wilted in her mouth. But Andrea did not release it. She was still steaming and didn't want him to cool. He had begun to relax--his legs no longer tightly gripped her neck and she felt his feet sliding off her back. She brought her right hand underneath his thigh. The second and third fingers pushed aside the crack between the buttocks. His cock quivered slightly. Pressed against the bed, his ass retained the heat his body had raised. It was moist and hot. She pressed against the entrance to his asshole, stroked it with her fingertip, then forced her finger in. The muscle closed against her fingernail. She slid her finger in up to the knuckle then bent it at the knuckle to force the sphincter open. In her mouth his cock stiffened. Andrea forced her finger completely into his asshole so that her palm soon rested on the spreading crack. As Tim's cock attained its full length, she let it drop from her mouth. She slid her finger up and down in his ass--his cock trembled in time to her fingering.
She shrugged his legs off her back, then raised herself onto her knees. As she rose above him, her finger began to slip from his ass. As it fell free, his cock once more began to secrete its clear lubricant. She adjusted her feet on either side of his hips, then steadying herself by resting her weight on his hip bones, she lowered her hot cunt unto his prick. She settled slowly on him--wanting to feel each inch of her cunt's insides sliding against his erection. Her flow increased as she jogged up and down on him. She loved the sensation of his going into her. She raised her cunt to hold just the head of his cock, then slid down again the length of the entire shaft. Rhythmically, her body urged her on. She leaned forward for better leverage. Her ass was exposed to the air. He brought his hand underneath it and caressed the ass side of her cunt. As she skidded up his shaft, he pressed his first two fingers against it and as she came down again her cunt enclosed his fingers and prick. He held them there as she thrust. When they were sopping with her juices, he withdrew the slight distance to her asshole. Her open cheeks were smooth. His sticky fingers clung to her flesh. Bent over him as she fucked, her asshole lay completely exposed. He tweaked the tiny hairs around the opening, then began to rotate his finger on the muscle. It pouted and retracted-Andrea was trying to draw him in. Wasting no time, Tim plunged his index finger in as far as the knuckle on the hand. She gave a wild cry. He withdrew slightly. With his second finger, he stretched the sphincter further, then plunged both fingers in. She shrieked. Her thrusting grew wilder. He felt her wet palms clenching and opening on his waist. Both fingers up her ass, he rotated them in semi-circles. She shuddered and threw herself completely across his body. Her sopping breasts mashed against his chest. As he tantalized her anus with his third finger, threatening to insert it, she threw her arms around his neck in an attempt to draw him closer, pressed her face against him and was rocked by the first waves of her orgasm.
With his cock still hard in her, Tim raised himself to a sitting position. Her eyes unseeing, she raised her head toward him. He sent his tongue into her mouth. She groaned, completely filled by him--his tongue exploring her palate, his fingers up her ass, and a membrane's length away, his cock shooting into her cunt. She walked, her fingers down the wet ridges of his spine to the crack of his ass, curled her hand under his haunch. The ridge between his ass and cock was swollen. She pressed it with her finger and found his asshole and quickly shooting her third finger into his ass gripped his buttocks in her palm. She rocked and squeezed his buttocks and moved her finger up and down. Tim began to thrust against her--Andrea returned the movement. Mouth against mouth, genitals tightly locked together, their fingers plugging each other's asshole, they fucked each other to a welcome climax.
Chapter 4
The rain fell in thick drops. The wind blew some through the open window onto Tim and Andrea beneath the cover on the bed. Andrea welcomed the rain. Along with the drop in temperature it was the first let-up from the heat of the summer. "I was a jerk not to take that stock job," she complained lazily. "Now I'm stuck in the city all summer."
Tim said, "Hm hm," not really hearing her. He was teasing her nipple with his thumb, trying to make it stiffen. "I worry too much about money," she said. "Something always, comes up. Enough to live on, anyway. But I think about getting my hands on a little more than enough. Not much. Just a little more than enough and getting away somewhere for a long time."
"Easiest thing to do," Tim said. "Pick up and go."
"Pick up and go," Andrea echoed, "Why not? Yeah. Why not?"
She leaned back against him. Sometimes she wondered whether there should be something more, some long range plan. But she wasn't sure she wanted to think that far ahead, Tim never spoke of the future. "He never talks about the past, cither," she thought. "He's just here for today. How long is today? Who cares?" She let out a deep breath.
"Tired?" Tim questioned.
"Not yet," She turned on her side to face him and brushed her mouth against his. "Why build up any illusions about him?" she thought. "He's here. Take him for that." She let her hand drift down his body to his soft cock. She took it in her hand. Worn-out for the moment, it stretched longer than the length of her palm.
Sue opened the door. "Hey, I'm tired of waiting in the living room."
Andrea sat up. "Come on in."
Sue grinned and entered. "I didn't hear any more noise, so I figured it was safe to poke my head in," She pointed to the open window. "Aren't you cold?"
"Come feel," Andrea invited.
"I should have felt the heat when I opened the door," Sue said blandly. "Still, you're taking an awful chance with that window open."
"Why?" asked Tim. "It's summer. We're healthy."
"Didn't Andy tell you?" Sue made her hands into two fists and brought them to her eyes, imitating a pair of binoculars. "We're being watched."
"How do you know?"
"How do I know?" Sue rummaged through the bureau for a pair of panties. "I get pictures back in the mail."
"Who's watching?"
"The Fund for Sending Aid to Developing Nations. Andy, I love you, but don't try to make my drawers neat. I never find anything after you've been on one of your straightening-up binges."
Andrea argued, "But you just throw everything in."
Sue made a vague gesture, "It all comes out again right." She pushed the drawer back. "Why am I getting dressed? You promised to invite me in for dessert."
"Call your guy with the camera. We'll make it worth his while," Tim offered.
Sue looked puzzled. "Guy with the camera ... oh, it's no guy with a camera. Andy, didn't you say anything?"
Andrea shook her head.
Sue continued, "It's not the biggest thing that, happened this summer, but it's the funniest. Have you ever seen our super? Bob?"
"The caveman," Tim recalled.
"Caveman reject," Sue corrected.
"He takes pictures?" asked Tim.
"No." said Sue. "No camera. He looks." Briefly, she told Tim about the night she and Andrea had discovered the janitor outside their bedroom window.
"Where's the fun in that?" Tim asked. As far back as he could remember, he'd never had the urge to watch anyone having sex. "Didn't he want to come in?" he asked Sue.
"Are you kidding? He was terrified. Andy was standing over him like something out of a magazine cover. Poor guy. I felt sorry for him. Man, she was ready to hand it to him."
Tim looked over at Andrea.
"I was horny," she said. "Are you jealous?"
Tim grinned and kissed her cheek.
"Well," Sue finished. "I don't mind being watched; I thought about it. I don't. I just like to know when it's happening, that's all."
"And his uncle owns the building?" Tim asked.
"That's another thing." Sue started up again. "He went down on his knees. Begged us not to squeal. This job is his last chance to show his family. He's the only idiot in a family of near morons. And this uncle! Do you want to hear?" She giggled. "When Bob was born--it didn't take long--they knew something was wrong. What could they do? Put him away? It was a possibility. But this uncle! Don't put him away, he says. Lose him somewhere. Kill him."
"Did his uncle want to kill him?" Tim asked, incredulous.
"He wanted to arrange an accident. He said with a baby, an infant, anything can happen. No one will ask questions. Well, Bob's mother got very upset. She hands the uncle the baby. She says, you take him, you knock his brains out against the wall. Well, the uncle got very upset, he nearly dropped the kid, could have killed him on the spot."
Tim looked at her, amazed. "How did you get all these details?" Sue lit a cigarette. "We had Bob on our hands for two hours. We heard his whole life story."
"Well, why did the uncle want to kill him if he could get him put away?"
"Sex rears its ugly head. One day Bob would grow up--his testicles would drop, his penis would lengthen, he would be desirous of women. He would be fucking, spreading his seed, making babies, all morons--I mean idiots. Morons the family was used to."
"Oh, wow," Tim said softly. "What did they do with him? He's still alive."
"The details after that aren't clear." Sue flicked an ash out the window and watched it sizzle on the wet sill. "I guess the uncle mellowed. He had his own life to lead. Maybe he changed his politics."
"He's letting the guy janitor."
"Bob says the family had to shame him into it. They brought up the story as a lever to persuade him. Besides, he's got a good deal. He doesn't pay Bob any salary. And he's not out an apartment. They converted the unused coal bins in the basement into a place for him. Poor Bob. He thinks he owes his uncle something. He's terrified if the old man finds out about his inclinations."
"He doesn't hurt anybody. Why doesn't his uncle butt out?"
"You know what families are like," Sue tossed her cigarette out the window. "Oh! I hope Bob's not clown there somewhere." She stuck her head out of the window. "Don't see a soul." She pulled her head in and leaned thoughtfully against the wall. The conversation died away.
Andrea pulled the cover around her and glanced at Tim. He had pushed himself upright against the wall and with half-lowered eyes was contemplating the sheet. She wondered whether he was thinking or building up his energies for the next lay. She stretched a hand out the window. The rain fell into her palm. She soothed it into her throat. It felt cool and good against her sticky skin. She thought about getting out onto the fire escape and letting the rain wash over her. She'd raise her arms and let it run over her--into her sweat-dried armpits, down the length of her loins, tickling the crack in her ass. She'd lift up her breasts and offer them to the rain. Anyone could watch. Let them. She had nothing to hide.
Tim was thinking about Selma Marantz. "That dame." He had forgotten her name even before she forgot his. She had wanted him to watch her strip-she was a performer. Bob was a watcher--a voyeur. He thought about it--you could divide people into two classes. The performers and the voyeurs. The Selma's on one hand and the Bob's on the other. Selma was willing to perform but he hadn't wanted to watch. Bob wanted to watch but he couldn't get anyone to perform. There they were. And no way to bring them together. Or was there? Andrea's voice cut into his train of thought.
"Are we going to sit here in the dark all night?"
"What do you want to do?" Tim asked her.
"Take a shower." She threw off the cover and crawled through the open window.
"You'll be arrested," Sue hissed.
"It's getting dark. No one's going to see," Andrea rubbed the rainwater into her skin. "If they do, screw 'em. Come on, Tim. You can soap me down. Sue, bring us some soap."
Tim followed Andrea out onto the fire escape. At that moment, a flash of lightning exploded in the sky. In the sudden light their naked bodies gleamed blue and glistening.
"Can we be electrocuted?" Andrea asked. "Naw." said Tim. "We're safe." He cupped his hands to gather the rain then rubbed his hands over his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, plastering it against his scalp. Andrea's hair hung in strings and fell against her neck. She shivered.
"Cold?" Tim asked. He drew her to his chest. She shook her head. The rain dripped down his shoulders and chest. Andrea wanted to taste the rain on him. She raised herself on tiptoe to reach the hollow formed by his collar bone where a minuscule rainpool had formed. "Lift me," she said. He raised her and she sucked the rain from his neck.
Sue thrust a hand through the window. "Soap, children," she said. Tim took the bar, lathered, then handed it to Andrea. She did the same. He rubbed the soap into her breasts. She spread her arms. He soaped under her arms and down her torso. He bypassed her cunt on the way to her legs and feet. As he returned upward, he made up for his oversight--soaping first the matted hairs, then running a finger inside to cleanse her lips.
"Your turn," Andrea said. "Stand up." He obeyed. Her hands full of lather, she imitated the path he had taken down her body. When she came to his prick, she worked the soap in with both hands. His prick grew rigid at her touch. "Hey, not now," he protested.
Sue, watching from the safety of the bedroom urged Andrea on. "Keep him up," she ordered.
"Keep him up yourself," taunted Andrea, She released his prick. It stood stiffly out from his body. The rain washed the soap away. Andrea grabbed him by the waist and turned him toward the window. She gave a push. "Keep him up, Sue," Andrea repeated.
Sue wasted no time. On her knees at the window, she drew his cock into her mouth.
Tim laughed. He looked back at Andrea. "What are you going to do?"
"Soap your back," she answered. She rubbed the bar of soap the width and length of his tanned back. He turned his head toward the room and looked down at Sue who was sucking his stiffening prick.
"Take it easy, Sue. Save a little for Andy." Her mouth full, Sue muttered something indistinguishable and began to lick the cock with gentle strokes. In back of Tim, Andrea had reached his buttocks and soaped between them with great care. The touch of her soapy hands at his ass felt good. His cheeks tightened around her hand. She yanked it out and descended under his ass to his balls. She squeezed them gently. Sue's tongue, licking up to the base of Tim's cock encountered Andrea's fingers. "You're full of soap," she complained.
"Let's get inside," Tim urged.
"I've got to rinse you off." Andrea turned on the fire escape, held out her hands to let rainwater fill them, then turned to slosh it on his back. She repeated the action several times until the soap had run off his body. She heard Sue from the dark room say, "Come in. I've got towels."
Tim stopped to get through the window. "Don't drip on the bed. Get onto the floor," Sue commanded. "Here's a towel." Tim climbed to the floor and began to towel himself dry. Andrea followed and received the same injunction. While Sue was sucking Tim, she had thrown off her bathrobe and was now as naked as the other two. "It's getting cold," she said, pulled down the window, then turned to help towel them dry. She grabbed the towel from Tim and wrapped it around his prick. Sue felt it bulging through the cloth. "All dry," she said with satisfaction. "But not for long." She turned to Andrea. "Come a little closer. I can't reach you." Andrea took a step toward her and Tim. "You're dry, too," Sue said. "What a shame." She went to her knees, unwinding the towel from Tim's erection. He and Andrea faced each other--Sue kneeled between them, level with their genitals. She began licking each in turn. A tongue flicked Tim's prick, then leaped the distance to Andrea's cunt and back again. Above her, Andrea and Tim started kissing each other. Sue heard a mouth slide on a tongue and glanced up. She smiled and turned back to her activity. She devoted her mouth to his cock. She concentrated on the tip, trying to force her tongue tip into the tiny opening. Meanwhile, she slipped her fingers into Andrea's dark cunt and began to massage the clitoris. Sue closed her mouth and rubbed her lips over the tip of Tim's cock, letting the clear liquid moisten her lips. Then she withdrew her finger from Andrea's cunt and reversed positions. She rubbed her mouth, moist with Tim's secretions, against Andrea's reddening cunt. At the touch of Sue's mouth, Andrea's flow began. She removed her mouth from her friend's cunt for a moment in order to say, "Let's give the bed a try." Then she continued her licking. Without stop-pins; their kissing, Andrea and Tim backed toward the bed. Sue followed on her knees, tongue and fingers still probing. Andrea and Tim sat on the edge of the bed, their legs spread apart, their inside legs from knee to upper thigh tightly touching. After a few more seconds of mounting pleasure, Tim broke free of Andrea's mouth. He tapped Sue on the head. She looked up at him with a dripping mouth, "Come on; sit on my lap," he offered. He held out a hand.
Sue rose. Tim seated her on his knee, his cook tight against her upper thigh. She locked her arms around his neck. He drove his tongue into her mouth. Andrea went to her knees before Sue. She nibbled Sue's dark blond hair, scraped her teeth against the outside of her cunt. Then she turned to Tim's cock resting on Sue's thigh. She forced her tongue between the code and the thigh and massaged it from below. Clear liquid oozed out onto her tongue. She let it coat her tongue then turned her head again to Sue's cunt. Sucking it, she heard Tim say to Sue, "I love your enormous tits." She looked up. He was sucking on one of Sue's huge nipples and tweaking the other between his fingers, making it erect. Sue's head was thrown back and her eyes were closed. She dropped her hand to her thigh to squeeze his cock excitedly. Andrea rose and sat on Tim's other knee. She put her hand behind Sue's neck and brought her head down to meet her mouth. They kissed eagerly. She removed Tim's hand from Sue's breast and forced it down to her own cunt. Then she reached across the gap to send her fingers into Sue's cunt. Tim lifted his head from sucking Sue's breast and forced his face between the two girls. He turned to Andrea. He sucked her tongue, letting his saliva drip into her mouth. Andrea kissed Sue, Sue kissed Tim. Then the three reached their tongues out and tried to mingle them. Andrea was having a difficult time maintaining her balance on Tim's lap. His fingers, massaging her clitoris, caused her to tremble convulsively. He felt it, removed his hand and rose slightly. The girls stood. The change in position sent their odors steaming into the air. Tim could smell the heady odor of the two cunts mingling with his own sweat. He dropped to his knees. Taking the ass of each in each of his hands, he pushed their cunts -against the side of his face--Sue on the right, Andrea on the left. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Their juices seeped down his cheeks. He stuck out his tongue to suck them in turn, regretfully leaving one to lap the other. He felt himself ready to come--he wanted to plunge into something wet and hot--mouth, cunt, ass. It didn't matter. He rose swiftly. "Sit on the edge of the bed," he ordered both girls. They did as he asked. "Lean back on your elbows. Pull your legs up in the air." Following his orders, two cunts were exposed to his assault. He thrust first into Sue. She gasped happily. He plunged in up to the hilt, then sopping, withdrew. A step over, then he was in Andrea. He thrust and withdrew. He continued this alternation until his prick was red and glistening. Finally, as he entered Sue for about the tenth time, his legs would no longer support him. He felt the sperm traveling inside his cock. He leaned forward over Sue who sensed his crisis approaching. She locked her feet over his back. He supported himself by his palms on the mattress and plunged and thrust himself into her. In her awkward position, she tried to match him thrust for thrust and kept squeezing her legs against his back. His strokes were long, deep, and increasingly faster. Finally, with a plunge that nearly pushed his balls into her, he shot his load.
Andrea allowed him a minute to catch his breath, then as his lessening organ slipped from Sue and he kneeled on the floor, she quickly made her move. She lifted Sue's legs onto the bed and buried her head in the girl's cunt. She stretched out, allowing her cunt to hang over Sue's mouth. She felt Sue eagerly begin to gulp her and she did the same. She sucked Tim's come, then slid her tongue around Sue's smooth warmness. Her clitoris was swollen as Sue worked around and above it. Lost in the joy of matching sensation for sensation, Andrea was startled to feel a tongue at her asshole. Tim had risen from the floor and was tonguing her to further excitement. Her sphincter gripped his tongue. Then she felt him holding it apart with his fingers and a great pressure at the entrance. He was forcing his cock in. She sucked more wildly at Sue's clitoris. The head of his cock penetrated her asshole. Her head began to swim and she felt her body spinning. Whether Tim succeeded in coming once again or even getting the shaft of his cock up her. she never knew--for at that moment, for the first time in her life, she fainted.
Chapter 5
After the rain, the heat returned. Andrea and Tim sat in the darkened bedroom drinking coffee. Sue came in wearing a flowered shift. "Before I wash the dishes," she asked, "who wants more to eat?"
Tim shook his head.
"Let the dishes go," Andrea suggested. "It's too hot."
"No, no," said Sue. "This is not the Lower East Side We moved in without cockroaches and I'm going to keep it that way."
"Screw it," Andrea answered. "If I get tired of working every day, and I already am, we'll have to move back to the Lower East Side."
"In that case," said Sue, "I am not going to breed posh Upper East Side cockroaches and carry them downtown to dilute their strain with the tenement variety." She flounced out of the room.
Andrea stretched out on the bed. Some crumbs from the meal the three had just consumed dug into her breasts. She adjusted her position, Irritated by the crumbs, her nipples began to tighten. She sat up and brushed off her breasts.
"What are you doing?" Tim asked.
"I'm full of crumbs."
He laughed. With his left hand, he held a breast and with his right began picking off the crumbs and popping them in his mouth. "Does your janitor stay home on Saturdays?" he asked.
Andrea glanced toward the open window. She whispered, "He's not out there, is he?"
Tim leaned out the window and surveyed the fire escape. "All clear." He shifted and tongued the crumbs off her other breast.
Andrea giggled, "They're not buttered."
"Tell Sue to bring some butter." He continued to swallow.
"It's too hot for butter."
"Cream cheese?"
"Haven't you eaten enough?" She tried to push his head away.
He left off for a minute, long enough to call Sue to come into the bedroom. She called back from the kitchen to ask what he wanted. When he asked whether there was any cream cheese, she stomped in annoyed.
"You said you didn't want anything else to eat."
He ignored her. "Have any cream cheese?"
"I don't want to wash dishes all night," Sue complained.
"He doesn't want you to bring a plate," Andrea said. "Just some cream cheese."
"And a knife?" Sue asked.
Tim released Andrea's nipple and stepped off the bed. "I'll get everything."
He went into the kitchen. Andrea and Sue followed. "Do you have a grater?" he asked. He opened and closed the cabinet doors.
"Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you," Sue offered.
Tim recited, "Two slices of toast, cream cheese, maraschino cherries, a jar of honey, and a grater."
Andrea was becoming impatient. "Why? You're wasting perfectly good food ... "
Tim cut in, "It's a dress rehearsal."
"A dress rehearsal for what?" Andrea demanded.
"You'll see." Tim turned to Sue. "Do you have everything or will we have to go to the store?"
"We've even got maraschino cherries," Sue said helpfully. "I bought a large bottle for this guy I was going with, you remember. Tony, Andy? He liked Manhattans. I gave him two and he told me I reminded him of his mother. I could have put up with it, but he was in love with his papa. So we've still got the cherries."
"Great," Tim said enthusiastically. "Andy, let's get dressed. You come with me." He walked back to the bedroom with Andrea. Sue trailed behind as he reeled off a set of instructions. "Make some toast, spread it with cream cheese, and grate it. Enough to fill a bowl. Do you have any whipped cream? No. Forget whipped cream. Cream cheese, toast, cherries. Oh. And honey. I'm not sure about the honey, but keep it ready." As he spoke, he pulled on his clothes. "Come on, Andy, get dressed." Andrea removed a pair of slacks from the closet, stepped into them, pulled on a shirt, buttoned it halfway and tied the tails around her stomach, leaving it bare.
"What are you waiting for?" He motioned Andrea out of the bedroom. Sue followed. He told her to expect them back in five minutes, "Where are we going?" she asked as they started downstairs.
"Do you have to go out of the building to get to your janitor's apartment?" he asked. Andrea was mystified. "Do you want to go down to Bob?" she asked. "Yes."
"What for? I don't want to see him again. Sue was so nice to him the other night, I was afraid he'd keep coming back for more."
"Just bear with me," Tim calmed her. "I've got an idea. If it works, you won't have any headaches for a while."
Andrea protested, "I don't have any headaches."
They reached the ground floor. "How do we get to him?" Tim demanded.
"It's this way," Andrea said, turning to a door underneath the stairs. "Watch your head. It's a low entrance."
"How do you know?" he asked.
"Don't get any bright ideas. The laundry room's down there too."
They went down the basement steps. At the bottom. Andrea switched on a light The open door to the darkened laundry room was a few steps in front of them. To their left, a cinder block wall had been constructed. It ran parallel to the real wall of the building, forming a narrow passageway with it. Andrea pointed to a door at the far end of the cinder block wall. "That's it," she announced. "That's where he lives. Satisfied?"
"You don't have to whisper," Tim said. "We're not hiding. We're going in."
"What am I supposed to say?" Andrea gasped.
"Leave the talking to me. All you have to do is agree with everything I say. Your blouse is buttoned too high." He unbuttoned the top of her blouse. "Show him some boob."
"He's seen my boobs."
"Tantalize him." Tim started down the passageway to Bob's door. Andrea followed, raising her breasts beneath the blouse.
Tim knocked at the door. There was no answer. "Maybe even an idiot goes out on Saturday night," Andrea offered. Tim pointed down. Andrea followed his gesture. A thin strip of light showed underneath the door. Tim knocked again. Still there was no answer.
"Call him," he told Andrea.
"Bob," Andrea purred, making two syllables of the name.
"Don't frighten him," Tim ordered.
"Hey, Bob." Andrea said flatly.
Tim motioned for her to knock. She drummed her fingers against the door. No answer. "Maybe he leaves the light on when he goes out," she said. Again Tim pointed to the bottom of the door. The strip of light was broken by the shadow of feet. "You're right," Andrea mouthed. Out loud, she said, pressing her mouth close to the door. "Bob, I know you're there. Open the door, Bob."
"Tell him you want to talk to him," he whispered.
"I want to talk to you, Bob. Won't you open the door?"
Behind the closed door, a low voice asked fearfully, "Who is it?"
"It's me. Bob," she answered. "Andrea. Apartment 3-D."
A monotone voice responded, "I can't fix anything now. Come back tomorrow."
"I don't want anything fixed, Bob. I want to talk to you."
"I'm listening," came the dull reply.
Tim whispered, "Get him to open the door."
"Bob," Andrea said sweetly. "Do you know who this is? Andrea. Apartment 3-D. Do you remember the other night? Up on the fire escape. I was there with my friend Sue, the blond girl."
Bob said quickly, "I remember. I didn't come back. You didn't see me again. I didn't come back." They heard a lock turning, then the door swung open. When Bob saw Tim standing next to Andrea, he cried out miserably, "You promised you wouldn't tell!" and started to close the door. Stepping swiftly forward, Tim hit the door with the flat of his palm. The impact sent Bob reeling backward into the room. He began sobbing hysterically and kept repeating, "You said you wouldn't tell." He threw himself on his knees, his forehead pressed against the floor, his ass high in the air. He pressed his forearms against his ears, in an effort to blot out anything they could say to him.
Tim and Andrea entered the room. Tim coughed. "There's no air in here." Andrea made a face of disgust. The room smelled of sweat, underwear, cooking odors, and general funk. Tim spotted a window in the rear and went to open it. It was locked by a handle that had to be gripped and turned sideways. Tim grappled with it for several seconds before he was able to make it move. "He never opens the window," he said incredulous. As Tim struggled with the window, Andrea, still in the door, scanned the room.
The cinder block wall had not been plastered or covered over. Despite the natural brick wall opposite it, the room looked like a chamber in a dungeon. The floor was extremely dirty and marked with small black spots. There was a large dresser pushed against the brick wall. It was piled high with magazines and there were many magazines scattered on the floor around it. The covers that Andrea could see all had pictures of nude girls. There was a wooden, closet-like structure at the extreme end of the room that was covered with pictures torn from the same magazines. Four naked light bulbs in the ceiling ran parallel to the two long walls and lit the room. Andrea looked away--in the heat the odors were turning her stomach and she didn't want to see any more.
Tim finally opened the window. Brushing the grime off his hands, he kneeled next to Bob, who was still sobbing. "Cut it out," he commanded firmly but not unkindly. Bob shuddered but continued to sob. Tim looked toward Andrea. "Is anybody going to come down?"
"I doubt it. The laundry room is supposed to be closed now."
"Come in and close the door," he ordered.
"I'll choke," she protested.
"Go stand by the window."
"There's no air." Nevertheless, she closed the door and went to the window. It was not as bad as she had expected. The window was on a level with the ground in the back yard. The earth was still wet from the rain and there was a faint smell of grass.
Tim shook Bob's shoulder. Bob tightened his forearms around his head. "Don't hurt me," he pleaded. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just shut up."
"No," said Bob. "I know. I know."
"What do you know?" asked Tim.
The janitor didn't answer, but repeated, "I know. I know."
In the stifling room, Bob's crying was an unnecessary irritation. Andrea didn't know what to say. She still had no idea why Tim had made her come down. She noticed a television opposite her against the cinder block wall. The picture was on but there was no sound. "Bob," she attempted to make herself heard over his crying, "The sooner you listen to what Tim has to say, the sooner we'll leave. You want to go back to watching television, don't you?"
Bob peered up at her. He wiped his nose with his hand. "Tim isn't going to hurt you," she said soothingly. Bob rolled over on his side. He gripped his arms around his chest, cast a look at Tim, then fearfully looked away. "I didn't go back," he sniveled. "I just looked once. I didn't go back. They came out. I didn't touch them."
Tim smiled at him. "Take it easy, Bob. No one's after your ass." He held out a hand to him. "Come on, how about sitting up? That floor's filthy." The janitor whined, "I can't keep anything clean. The dust flies in all over. You shouldn't be down here. You'll get dirty."
"How would you like to come where it's clean, Bob?" Tim asked.
The janitor shook his head quickly. "My uncle doesn't let me go anywhere. I've got to stay here to look after the house. I look after everything. Everything. He'll see. I'll take care."
"You don't have to leave the house," Tim answered. "Come upstairs."
"Where?"
"Andrea's apartment."
"No. My uncle wouldn't like that."
"Would your uncle like to know that you go on the fire escape and look in the girls' bedroom window?"
"You said you wouldn't tell," Bob turned accusingly to Andrea.
"No one told your uncle anything," Tim assured him. "Right now, we're asking you to come up and visit. Your uncle wouldn't say you shouldn't visit if you're invited." He added quickly, "But he's not going to know. No one will ever tell him."
With a heavy hand, Bob rubbed the side of his face. He sucked in the corners of his mouth and shook his head. He appeared to be trying to say something. Finally, he articulated, "He might call."
"Do you have a phone?" Tim asked.
Bob pointed. A telephone lay under his unmade bed. "He calls to find out how everything is going. He likes to know everything is O.K. He tells me to be here when he calls."
"Flow often does he call?"
Bob grasped his right thumb in his left hand and closed his eyes very tight. "Did he call today?" Tim prompted. "Two or three times a month," Bob said quickly. He had opened his eyes to say it, looking directly at Tim, then skittered his eyes away to stare at his thumb. Tim stared at him thoughtfully. "How do you know?" he asked. Bob looked at him blankly. Tim pressed him, "Can you count, Bob?"
"He told me. Uncle Maurice told me he'll give me a ring two or three times a month. He wants me to be here."
"Does your uncle pay you?"
"Listen," Bob said heatedly. "He's very nice giving me this job."
Tim stood, "You come with us. If you're not home when your uncle calls, you can tell him Apartment 3-D needed a light bulb changed. We've got coffee upstairs, Bob, and some nice cake. Do you like sweet things?" Bob smiled wistfully. Tim motioned him off the floor. Bob stood shrugging. Andrea started for the door. "Wait," said Bob. "I've got to lock the window."
"Why don't you leave the window open? Get some air in here?" Andrea demanded.
Bob shook his head, "Somebody might get in." He trudged toward the window, slammed it shut, carefully locked it by the handle, and tested it once or twice to make sure that it could not be forced open. Andrea walked into the hall. Tim waited for Bob to follow her and then joined them, shutting Bob's door behind him. "I have to lock it," Bob withdrew a key on a chain that hung around his neck, stooped, fitted the key in the lock and turned it. "I have to be careful," he explained. Andrea walked ahead of him to the stairs, Tim in back. Shuffling in the middle, Bob kept his mouth shut as they mounted to the girls' apartment.
Chapter 6
In the apartment, Sue was just spreading the cream cheese on the toast when Tim and Andrea led Bob in. Sue poked her head out of the kitchen to ask whether Tim wanted honey on the cream cheese when she saw Bob. She looked at Andrea curiously but received no sign.
"Got everything ready?" Tim asked. Sue nodded. Tim motioned Andrea to take Bob into the bedroom. "We'll be right there," he promised, then entered the kitchen with Sue. He surveyed her preparations. "You didn't grate the toast." She defended herself, "I wanted to make sure it was hot when you got here."
"We're not going to need it hot. Bring the stuff into the bedroom when you're ready."
In the bedroom he found Andrea and Bob looking at each other uneasily. He indicated the only chair in the room. "Sit down, Bob," he offered. Bob sat stiffly. Andrea had switched on the floor lamp and Tim arranged it so that the light spilled onto the bed. He pulled down the window shade. Sue entered, carrying a tray full of the menu Tim had ordered. She set it down on the dresser. Tim smoothed out the sheet on the bed, then turned to face the three who were staring at him expectantly. "Everybody sit down. No, Andy, you sit on the bed. Sue, you don't mind the floor." Bob had been staring at the tray. "I don't see any coffee and cake," he whined.
Tim seated himself next to Andrea, "Bob, you know Andy's told me about what happened the other night." Bob rose from his seat. "Cut that out," Tim continued smoothly. "We already said we don't care. I was thinking, though, about the hard time you must have. You've got to run up and down a dark fire escape, you don't, know who's going to see you, you don't know whether you're going to be caught. What's worse, you don't even know whether you're going to see anything worth being caught for. You like to look, Bob. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of people like to look. Why shouldn't they? You know what Andy's wearing under that blouse? Nothing. Bare tits. I know you've seen Andy's bare tits--but it was dark, you weren't really looking, you missed them. I want to show them to you now, Bob," He started to unbutton Andrea's blouse. Bob's mouth fell open. He watched, not daring to believe that Tim would actually carry out his promise. When Tim untied the knot around Andrea's waist, Bob threw his hands over his eyes, gasping, "No, you mustn't. It's wrong." Andrea had been listening to Tim's spiel, incredulous. Bob's interruption broke into her concentration. She understood that Tim actually intended to undress her in front of the janitor. She tried to stand. Tim forced her down. She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a palm slightly in the air, to signify "stick with me." Andrea sat. Her gaze met Sue's. The blonde smiled mirthlessly ...
Tim commanded Bob, "Take your hands away from your eyes." Bob spread apart his fingers. "Are your eyes open?" Tim asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Now drop your hands." The janitor shook his head. "If you don't drop your hands, we're going to tell your uncle." The hands fell. "That's better. Watch." Tim pulled back the blouse to reveal Andrea's breasts to Bob. "We won't ask you to touch them. Just look." The janitor stared at the girl's breasts, golden in the lamplight, tipped with pink buds that were soft in the warm room. "You like to look at naked bodies, Bob," Tim continued evenly. "This is only half a naked body." He dropped the blouse at the foot of the bed. "Stand up, Andy." She complied. "I want to show you the rest. Girls' bodies are nice. They're nice to smell. Do you want to come closer and sniff?" Bob shook his head slowly from side to side. Involuntarily, his hand crept into his lap. Tim saw his action and smiled. Bob yanked his hand out of his lap and clasped his hands around his neck.
Tim widened the opening of Andrea's fly. He reached in and pulled out a few wisps of her hair. "This is Andy's cunt hair. You couldn't have seen it in the dark the other night. I'm going to show it to you real good, real close." He unsnapped the button of the slacks and pulled the pants down over Andrea's hips. "Oh, did I show you her belly button?" he asked. "Here it is. Nice to kiss." He tongued it wetly. "Nice to taste." The skin around the dark dimple shone with his saliva. As he spoke, he pulled the pants down just below her vagina. "There's the cunt, Bob. You can't see it too well. The hair hides it." He began to make a part in hair in order to reveal the slit to Bob. Unheld, the pants fell to the ground. Andrea stepped out of them and kicked them under the bed. She stood naked before Bob.
"Now you can see the cunt better, Bob," Tim pointed out. "See how nice it curves under. Her asshole's on the other side. Turn around, Andy." She turned her back to Bob. "That's her ass. It's a beautiful ass, Bob. I'll spread her cheeks later and you can get a good look at it. Do you have any questions?" The janitor's eyes were riveted on Andrea. He had no questions.
"Andy likes to be eaten," Tim's voice continued. "It makes her feel good. When I eat her, I feel good too. Sometimes when I eat her, I can come without fucking her. I like to come, Bob. I like to make Andy come. Watch us. Maybe you'll come too." He smiled at Sue. "Hand me the honey, please." Sue took the honey jar from the tray and unscrewed the cap. She handed him the nearly full jar. Tim dipped each of Andrea's breasts into the jar as far as they would go. He lifted them from the jar dripping gobs of honey. The honey on her breasts started to drip to the floor but he elevated the breasts slightly and the honey flowed down their undersides, then slowly down her belly. Tim resumed his lecture, "We ate a little while ago, but I'd like some dessert now. Honey, cream cheese and toast." He twirled the mixture around the honey-soaked breasts. He passed the bowl to Sue. "Sit down, Andy." He sat her, straddling his lap, and looked down at her breasts. He raised her to her feet. "That stuff's going to get all over my shirt." He pulled off his shirt, tossed it to Sue, then sat again and positioned Andrea on his knees. He sat at a slight angle to the chair Bob was in. The janitor had a clear view of Tim's mouth on the girl's breasts. "I want you to pay attention, Bob," Tim instructed. "Watch Andy's tits. If you look close, you'll see they get very hard. Her nipples are going to stand on end." He opened his mouth and drew in her right nipple. He sucked on it for a second, then pulled his head back. Some strands of honey drooped between her breast and his mouth. "God, this is sweet." He bent again to her dessert-covered breast and sucked and licked it.
By now Bob was swallowing very hard and his hands were pressed very tight against the back of his neck. His thighs squeezed close together and he rotated them uncontrollably.
Tim released Andrea's breast. "I can't sit in these jeans. I've got a hard-on." He stood and whisked his pants off. His full erection sprang into sight. A stifled moan of pleasure escaped from Bob. Tim smiled at him, "You dig cock too?" The right breast was sucked clean of its load and Tim, still standing, bent to Andrea's left breast. Not knowing what he was up to, she had wanted to remain uninvolved, but Tim's sucking was making her hot. She grabbed his head in both her hands and started kissing his hair. He looked up, laughed, turned to Bob, "I told you she liked it. Watch what she gets next." He asked Sue to hand him the bottle of maraschino cherries. When he had removed two from the jar, he had Andrea lie back on the bed. He inserted one inside her cunt and placed the second so that it lay flush between her lips. He invited Bob to bring his chair closer. Bob stood whimpering and came to squat by the bed. As he crossed the room, Tim noticed a bulge at his crotch. "I bet you've already guessed what I'm going to do. Will you eat the cherries if I save them for you?" Bob looked fearfully at him. Tim laughed. "I didn't think so. Well, my mouth's going to be busy. I won't be able to explain what I'm doing. Andy, you'll have to tell Bob what's going on." He lay on his stomach with his mouth at her crotch. "Go ahead, Andy."
Andrea began to speak. "He's licking my cunt, Bob. He's licking all around. Now he's licking just one side. Up and down. Up and down. Now the other side. The same thing." She began to pant and the words came with difficulty. "Now he's got his mouth over it and he's squeezing it with his mou--I can't." Tim looked up. "She didn't mention she's started to flow. You see my mouth is wet. That's from her. She's hot. She's very wet. She can't talk any more. You watch." He buried his mouth against her cunt. Andrea's legs thrashed and Tim placed his palms against the inside of her thighs to keep them apart. Still she strained. She forced her legs close against the side of his head and thrust her hips into his face. Bob echoed her uneven breathing. He sneaked a hand into his pants pocket and fondled his throbbing cock.
Tim dug his tongue into the crevice of Andrea's cunt. Her juices against the sweetness of the cherry made a strange contrast but he liked it. He probed at the cherry with his tongue. He felt her cunt's pulsating muscles try to draw him in. He tried to grip the cherry with his teeth. He placed his lips around it and tried to suck it out. He turned his head vertically so that the slash of her cunt ran parallel to the opening of her mouth. He attempted to come at the cherry sideways and knock it out. His tongue tip ached from the effort. Finally, when he thought she would come with the cherry in her, he succeeded. He held it between his lips, looked up at Bob. Tim grinned at him, let the cherry fall into his mouth, chewed noisily on it, swallowed, then fell again to her crotch to dislodge the second cherry. Above him he heard Bob sobbing to Sue, "He ate it. I saw him. He took it out of her. He ate it."
The second cherry was more difficult. When he managed to get it to her opening, it rolled back. Then he got the idea of forcing it out from above. He turned around on her. When Tim's cock landed above her face, Andrea automatically sucked it into her mouth. His balls bumped against Tier nose. She raised her legs and enclosed his neck in a vise-like grip. With what little control that remained, he called to Bob to come to the other side of the bed. Bob half crawled over to where Tim's mouth was being forced against Andrea's sopping cunt. With her legs up in the air, she had exposed her asshole, "See, Bob?" Tim choked the words out. "That little brown thing?" He indicated it with his right index finger. "I promised I'd show you her asshole. That's it." He stuck the pointing finger into it. Andrea groaned and sucked furiously at his cock. "I give up on that cherry," he gasped. With his free hand, he stuck a finger into her cunt and dislodged the cherry. It struck the hand of the finger that was probing her ass and fell to the bed beneath her cheeks. "Sue, get me that damned cherry." Sue rushed to the bed, reached under Andrea and located the cherry. Tim held open his mouth. Sue dropped it in. He gulped it down whole, then dropped his head to her cunt and continued sucking with noisy slurps.
Bob had dropped to the floor near the bed. His feet no longer supported him. The sucking and slurping sounds on the bed increased his excitement. He wanted to pull his cock out but he didn't dare. He knew Sue was watching him but he couldn't help himself. He had to come. He squeezed his hands in the pants pocket tighter against his throbbing cock. The pocket was soaking. He jerked himself up and down on the floor. From the bed above he heard the squeaking sound of a lengthy suck. Bob groaned and shot. He wasn't wearing underwear. He felt a thick stream of liquid shoot down his leg. He was glad he was sitting. Sue couldn't see it flow out at the cuff. He looked at his thigh. A new, wet stain was forming among those that had already dried.
Faintly bored, Sue lit a cigarette. She was not turned on by the spectacle of the idiot on the floor jerking himself off. As for Tim and Andrea, she knew them too well to be excited by their fucking, no matter how inventively they varied it--unless she could be directly involved. She surveyed the sated trio--the two performers and their voyeur. As their climaxes subsided, she chimed in, "Can I get anyone anything?" Tim asked for a towel. She passed one to him; he dried his face with it, then patted Andrea's dry. Tim leaned over the bed to talk to Bob. "How do you feel?"
"I feel O.K."
"How did you like what you saw?"
Bob appeared embarrassed. His mouth twitched and he looked around the room. Just then Andrea came to lean over the bed. Her breast dangled off the edge and swung down toward Bob. He helped and backed halfway across the room. He rose and said he had to go. Tim cut him off.
"When do you want to come back?"
The janitor stared at him helplessly.
"There's a lot more we can show you. You haven't seen Sue in action yet. What you saw tonight was pretty tame in comparison to what the three of us can do together."
Bob's only response was to swallow hard.
"I don't want to be a killjoy," Andrea said. "But would you like to tell us what's on your mind?"
"I want to make it easy for Bob to get what he likes," Tim explained. "He doesn't have to scurry all over the place peeking through windows when he can come to us and see as much as he wants." He looked appealingly at Bob. "Wouldn't you like that?"
Wide-eyed Bob shook his head yes, "Sure you would. We'll do it for you, Bob. Anytime you like. You call the shots. How does twice a week sound?"
Bob grinned.
"Good. Twice a week. At, say, four hundred and fifty dollars a shot. For one solid month. Thirty-six hundred dollars."
Andrea exploded, "What?"
Sue giggled, "He's got to be kidding."
Bob muttered haltingly, "I haven't got money. I can't give you money. Where am I gonna get money?"
Tim countered, "You collect the rent, don't you. I know you do. I've seen you pick up the checks. There are five floors of four apartments. The average rent is one hundred and eighty. Give or take a few hundred, we stand to collect thirty-six hundred."
"They're all in checks," Sue interjected.
"Who do you give the checks to after you pick them up?"
"Nobody. I mail 'em to my uncle."
"Doesn't he come to pick them up himself?"
"He wrote out a lot of stamped envelopes for me to mail the checks in."
"That's better than I expected." Tim explained to the girls, "We only need three days for the checks to clear. By the time his uncle gets wise, you and Andy have that extra cash you're always screaming about and you're out of town."
Sue asked pointedly, "How are we supposed to cash these checks?"
"Who do you make them payable to?"
"M.J. Start, Co."
"Any one of us can walk into any bank in the city and say we represent M.J. Starr, Co. We open an account. We buy a rubber stamp. We endorse our checks. We deposit them. We wait three days. We close out the account. We disappear."
"It's a neat plan," Sue agreed.
Tim sat up on the bed, "It's up to you, Bob. We need you to get us those checks."
"My uncle Maurice wouldn't like it."
"Fuck him. What's he ever done for you? Do like that filthy hole he stuck you in?"
"It's my apartment," Bob said lamely.
"No landlord in the city could get a janitor to stay in an apartment like that. Think about it. Sue tells me your uncle wanted to kill you when you were a baby. What do you owe him? Nothing. Come on, Bob. He'll never do anything to you. We're the ones that get into trouble. If he catches us. You have all the fun. Two shows a week."
"Three," Bob said suddenly.
"Is it a deal?"
"Three."
"O.K. Three. First of the month is the day after tomorrow. We'll start then. Gives us a full month. What time do you want to come up?"
"No," Bob shook his head. "Downstairs. In my apartment."
"Have a heart. It's a pigsty."
"In my own apartment." He stared very hard at each of the three, his intense gaze resting finally on Andrea. "In my own apartment."
Chapter 7
Tim left early that night. The two girls fell into bed but could not get to sleep. They had too much to talk about. Andrea didn't think Tim's plan had a chance. They might succeed in cashing the checks and getting out of town, she agreed, but she was used to New York and she wanted to return. Sue reminded her of the statute of limitations. As long as no one got killed, and no one would, all they had to do was avoid arrest for seven years then they'd be in the clear. Andrea didn't see how they could possibly stay hidden for seven years.
"It's a big country, baby," Sue assured her. "You can always change your name."
"What about my face?" Andrea demanded. "I want a career."
"If you ever go public," the blonde answered, "you can buy off Bob's uncle. It's only a lousy three grand. Besides, even if it gets into the papers, you won't get hurt. Not when you give the story. 'Actress Accused In Bunco Sex Ring'," she improvised. "Sex never hurt anybody's career. Look what that calendar did for Marilyn Monroe."
"But this is stealing," Andrea pointed out.
"When you perform, you get paid right?"
"I wish."
"Let's say, O.K.? It's the same thing. You're performing. Bob is paying you. It's too bad he doesn't have any money of his own. So he's paying you with what his uncle makes."
"But that's his uncle's money."
"Don't argue. By rights, Bob should be drawing a salary of at least three thousand a year. He's just taking what his uncle should have given him. Bob is giving to you what he's taking from his uncle. Anyway, nothing's going to happen. It'll blow up into a big family thing. Everybody will blame the uncle. He'll want to keep it quiet. We won't be hurt."
"What if we are?"
"So we go to jail for a few months. Or get off on a suspended sentence. It's your first offense, isn't it? Mine too. Even if you end up in jail, it's great experience for you. You meet lots of new people. You want to develop as an actress, don't you? You'll learn lots of new tricks in a prison full of women."
"I don't want to go to jail."
"Relax, you've got nothing to worry about."
Andrea was not as confident as Sue and also couldn't make up her mind. On the one hand, it was easy money; on the other, it was stealing. Some twinge of conscience, the result of early training plagued her: Don't steal. Don't take what doesn't belong to you. But when you came right down to it, what, if anything, did belong to anyone? Trace any line of ownership back to its source. What would you find? Some guy walked up to some place or some thing and said: This is mine--I'll kill anyone that tries to take it away from me. After enough guys had gotten things that way, they passed laws that allowed them to keep what they had. As far as they were concerned, everybody else could go to hell. Three thousand dollars--a thousand for each of them--was it worth it? It would get them out of town for a while. She could get right to California, the heart of the movie business. Maybe her luck would be better there than it had been in New York. Maybe she wouldn't even have to come back. When she thought about it, she didn't even like New York. She'd been born in the city but it was only habit that kept her there. Andrea began to fall asleep. "I don't know," she muttered. "I just don't know."
The next day was Sunday. She and Sue did the laundry, read the weekend newspapers, and aimlessly puttered around the house. They both avoided mentioning the subject of Bob or the money. In the late afternoon, they went to walk on the promenade along the river. When they returned, the phone was ringing. Sue picked it up but the caller had already slammed down the receiver on his end. Sue guessed it was Tim. But he lived without a phone; there was no way to call back. The temperature continued to rise, After supper, they watched television until the second late show, then went to bed.
Early Monday morning, Andrea was half-roused by the phone. Sue got it and Andrea went back to sleep. About an hour later, the phone rang again. Andrea pushed herself up. "Sue?" she called sleepily. No one answered. The bell on the phone in the bedroom had been muffled; still uncoordinated, she groped for it. She located it under the bed. The caller was an old school friend of hers with an eight-month-old baby. She invited Andrea to join them for the day on the boardwalk at Brighton. Andrea peered out the window. It was hot and very bright. She had nothing else to do. She had promised Tim that she would open the fake bank account but she still wanted to think it over. Her friend's invitation provided her with a convenient excuse to delay. If Tim asked, she could tell him she had slept until after three. She promised her friend she'd be there by noon.
After a fast shower, she pulled on a pair of bell bottoms and a tank top. As she dressed, she examined herself in the full length mirror hanging on the bathroom door. She looked great. The pants were tight-they hugged her crotch then flared out into a medium bell. In the back they rode snugly over her firm ass, separating and outlining each cheek. She was naked under the tank top; when she leaned forward, the shirt billowed out and she could see the pink tips of her nipples. She licked her thumb and forefinger with her tongue then reached through the neck of the top and squeezed each nipple. The tweak and the moisture started them rising. Andrea straightened up. The material tightened against her breasts. Looking in the mirror, she saw the outline of her nipples beneath the top. She gave herself a last going over. She tanned easily. She would probably be darker when she got home that night, with the lines of the straps showing white where they blocked out the sun. For a moment, she had a sudden fantasy of herself running naked along a golden West Coast beach, browning evenly in the sun. Without a stitch, she thought. No white spots anywhere. Thinking about California provoked thoughts of Tim's plan. She shook her head. She refused to think about it for the rest of the day.
On the downtown Lexington local, no one stared at her directly. East side riders were too polite. However, she was gratified to observe many furtive glances directed at her out of the corners of eyes. The only exception occurred at 68th Street as the train pulled into the station. A middle-aged woman in a severely tailored suit, carrying an attach� case, was standing near the door and looking longingly at Andrea. When the doors opened, she held her glance for a moment then stepped off. The doors slid shut. As the train rolled out of the station, Andrea saw the woman straining for a last look at her.
Things picked up at Grand Central as she walked to the shuttle. One lean young man, with hair slicked back at his temples, and raised to an enormous pompadour in front, brushed against her as he passed, whispering, "Name the place, baby." Walking toward her, a nondescript middle-aged man, carrying a shabby raincoat over his arm, grabbed his cock through his pants. He indicated his action to her with a fast look down at himself, then looked intensely into her eyes. "Don't strain yourself, pop," she winked at him. On the train, the eyes of a chubby little Puerto Rican blazed when he saw her. He hissed at her as she entered, "ssss, ssssss." Andrea passed him and walked into a forward car. He followed, making kissing sounds with his mouth and the thumb of his right hand against the two middle fingers of the same hand. A transit policeman stood at the door in the next car, and Andrea's pursuer abruptly censored himself. But he continued to smile at her, casting meaningful looks from under his bushy eyebrows. Basking in the protection afforded by the cop, Andrea smiled back at the little man and wiggled her butt at him. He licked his lips meaningfully.
The train pulled into Forty-Second Street. Andrea headed for the downtown train. Her pursuer, still making noises at her, rushed past her, and positioned himself at the head of the staircase leading to the uptown trains. As she walked past him, he reverted to hissing at her and indicated by a jerk of the thumb" that he expected her to follow him onto the uptown platform. She smiled sweetly and indicated that she was going downtown. He tried again to entice her but she shook her head. He clenched his fist anxiously, he had to make a decision; at that moment an uptown local rumbled into the station. The little man shrugged, indicated that it was his train, waved goodbye to Andrea, and rushed down the steps.
Andrea started down to the platform, then stopped, cursing. She'd kept getting on the wrong trains. She'd have to go to Sixth Avenue to get the Brighton train, which meant an extra fare. Thoroughly annoyed with herself, she left the station, and undulated down Forty-Second Street to Sixth Avenue.
Her train pulled in as she was descending to the platform and she had to run for it. She leaped into the last car as the door slid shut behind her. The car was half-empty. Several shoppers got out at 34th Street. Bored, Andrea stood looking out the window at the rear of the car and watched the tracks stretching off into the black. Hypnotized by the repetitious pattern, she blinked suddenly as strong sunlight glanced off the rails. The train was riding out of the tunnel and onto the bridge across the river. Andrea pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and went to stand at one of the side doors to catch a view of the city. Suddenly the train halted. Andrea was thrown backward--she grabbed one of the floor poles, saving herself from falling to the floor. She had cried out as she started to fall. As she righted herself, she saw that the only other occupant of the car, a man who was leaning against one of the-center poles, had turned his head to look at her. He was smiling quizzically. Andrea smiled back. "Lousy engineers," she said. At that moment, the train jerked forward and started across the bridge. Her fellow passenger regarded her with the same, unchanging smile, still looking at her over his shoulder. He appeared to be in his middle thirties and respectable. He was wearing a suit and a gray straw hat with a plaid band. A trim black attach� case lay at his feet. He continued to stare at her. "Oh, come on," she thought to herself. "It's too early in the morning to be raped."
He turned himself slowly around the pole and faced Andrea. Both his hands were clasped in front of him--he was playing with his prick. A large hard-on sprang out of his pants. He lifted it with his right hand and placed it in the palm of his left. He began to stroke it with the fingers of his right hand The same beatific smile remained pasted on his face. He ceased to stroke it but rubbed it up and down in his left hand. It stiffened--clear fluid seeped from the tip, dripped on his hand with the up stroke and was rubbed into his cock on the down stroke. He squeezed his cock for a few seconds, then held it lightly in his hand and thrust with his hips, driving his cock through his hand. The smile on his face changed--it broadened. He returned to jerking it up and down and walked slowly forward, "Just stay away from me," Andrea warned. He kept walking. Andrea could see an increased flow of fluid on every forward stroke She heard him making little sounds of pleasure in his throat. "That's as far as you go, buster," she said. She didn't know whether he'd attempt to grab her if she made a move to pass him and she didn't want to back up, giving him a chance to push her against the closed door. She felt trapped. He was as large as Tim and possibly as strong. She made a final attempt to scare him off, "Touch me and I'll kick your balls up your ass."
The car abruptly darkened. She screamed. Then she realized they had entered the tunnel and she had her sunglasses on. She whipped them off and thrust them into her bag. The man had stopped about two feet from her and the same broad smile on his face, increased the rate of jerking. The head of his cock became a moving blur. He dropped his hand abruptly. His smile had turned into a grimace and he was gritting his teeth. His stiff cock stood motionless for a fraction of a second, then began spurting. Andrea jumped backward. The first ejaculation shot up into the air and came down to land on the edge of a seat near the door. Successive spurts of his come were less thick and dropped in front of him onto the floor. The train pulled into DeKalb Avenue. The doors opened. Still smiling, he turned, walked evenly to the middle of the car, retrieved his attach� case, held it modestly over his middle, and walked out of the train.
Andrea was surprised to find that her knees were shaking. The car doors did not close immediately. Andrea was afraid that he might return so she walked into the next car. There were three women in it and one man. She felt safer and sat.
As she grew calmer, she realized that she'd probably had nothing to be afraid of. He wasn't going to hurt her. He was only using her as a substitute for a photograph. Like the little Puerto Rican man. Like the guy with the pompadour. They came on strong, but what would they have done if she'd turned around and agreed? The little Puerto Rican guy had given up as soon as his train came in. With a shock, she realized they were phonies. They wanted to feel big by looking. They let you know you turned them on, put that was as far as it went. They were like Bob--a little more daring, but like Bob--voyeurs. Within the last half-hour she'd been a live pin-up for three men. And what did she get out of it? A little amusement. Nothing else. Why shouldn't she benefit? They did. In the next car, that guy's come was still wet on the seat. And how did she know the other two guys hadn't come in their pants? Why shouldn't she get something out of it? Why not take Bob's uncle's money? Why have scruples? Where had they ever gotten her? Absolutely nowhere. Stop worrying about the future, she thought to herself bitterly. Let it take care of itself.
The car doors were still being held open. Andrea rose and walked out. She mounted the stairs to cross to the uptown track. "O.K., M.J. Starr, Co.," she muttered defiantly to herself. "You're on."
Chapter 8
The air conditioning in the bank was frigid. One degree lower, and Andrea's nipples would have popped through the material of her tank top. She shivered pleasantly. "I'm all goose bumps," she smiled to the young man at the desk. He blushed. Andrea was intrigued. She'd never seen a man blush before, especially a good-looking one. Gerald Scott-identified by the name plate on the desk-was very good looking. She had noticed that as soon as she pushed through the revolving door into the bank.
On the way back into the city she had decided that it was probably safest to open the account as far from the apartment as possible. She got off at West Fourth Street and found a bank not far from the station. The bank officers occupied a railed-in, carpeted area at one end of the room. There were two rows of three desks each. Gerald Scott's was the first one on the left. But Andrea would have spotted him even if he'd been sitting at the back. He had boyish good looks, commonly called all-American, but rarely found so perfectly assembled on one face. For a moment, Andrea wondered whether he was gay, but she dismissed the thought. The look he had given her as she crossed the bank to seat herself at his desk was like everything else about him--quite straight.
He excused himself, mumbling something about having to get a form from a file. He walked stiffly to a cabinet near the railing. He walks funny, she thought, then realized that he was fighting a harden. "Not another one," 'she moaned. But was she being fair to him? He liked to look, but maybe--when the opportunity was presented to him--he fucked. He looked capable. Well, she'd never find out. In five minutes she'd be out of the bank and return only twice: once to deposit the checks, a few days later to close out the account.
Thinking about the account started her on a train of thought about the risk she was running. If Bob's Uncle did go to the police, they would be certain to learn about the false account. Andrea would have to sign papers and her signature would be on file. She might be traced clear across the country through her handwriting. Unless she had an ally at the bank--someone who would destroy papers or make a substitution if she asked--someone who would be on her side because he was crazy about her. Andrea thought these reasons were a sufficient excuse to put her impulses into action. She also knew that at the root of these rationalizations, there was one reason stronger than the others--looking at Gerald Scott made her horny.
The object of these thoughts sat down again behind the desk. Andrea leaned casually forward on it. Her naked breasts shifted under her tank top. He glanced up, then quickly directed his attention to the forms on his desk. "Why not?" she thought. "It's worth a try."
She propped both hands on her chin on the desk. "All this paper work," she muttered petulantly. If he looked up now, he had only to lift his eyes slightly and he'd have a view clear through to her navel. He kept writing. "I think we should refuse to take checks and put all our cash into a safety deposit box. Do you have a safety deposit vault here?"
He told her the bank did. Looking up and carefully meeting only her eyes, he asked whether she would be interested in one. She nodded. When he began to describe the dimensions of the boxes to her, she said she could never get a clear picture of anything unless she saw it right in front of her. He took her through a door and down a flight of stairs to the vaults. Except for a guard at the entrance, she and Gerald were alone. "Doesn't anyone ever use this place?" she asked innocently. He explained that it was an early Monday afternoon in the summer. Most of their box-holders were private individuals, many of whom were out of town. She spotted a long corridor, lined with several closed doors on either side. He explained that they were private rooms where box holders could examine their belongings in solitude. She asked to see one. He held the door for her. She walked into the room. He stood in the doorway. She asked whether the rooms were soundproof. He said they weren't but that sound was muffled. "Let me hear," she said. He came into the room and closed the door. There was a narrow table against the wall. She hoisted herself onto it. Her jeans pulled tight against her crotch. He glanced nervously through the glass set in the upper part of the door.
"It won't cost you your job," she purred.
He was startled. "What!"
"Even if it does, I think I'm worth it."
"Oh, my God," he was incredulous. "This is crazy." He took a step toward the door. He opened it, looked out into the corridor, shut it quietly, then coming toward her, said, "I don't believe this," and took her in his arms. Her mouth was open and ready. Using her tongue as a lever, she forced his lips open and sucked his tongue into her mouth. Her hands caressed his penis through his suit. He was already hard, his erection throbbed m her hand.
While she squeezed his prick, she withdrew her tongue from his mouth and. licked his ears. He pulled her tank top out of her pants and readied for her breasts. Holding a breast in each hand, he rolled them in his palms and with his thumb pushed at each nipple, indenting it on the breast. Still squeezing the breasts, he pushed them against each other and rubbed them together. He released her for a second, tugged at her tank top and brought it over her head, She trembled when the cool air reached her exposed torso; she felt his hot hands on her back and she squirmed trying to make them go all over her body and heat her. He bent his head to her breasts and sucked an erect nipple into his mouth, ran his tongue over it, then held it between his teeth and squeezed gently. At the same time his hands tried to push into the waist of her pants.
As he kissed her breasts, she unbuckled his belt, opened the button of his pants, pulled down the zipper and tugged his pants off. His underwear came down at the same time, trousers and underpants gathered around his ankles. He stepped out of them and kicked them away. She caught his cock in her hand. It was average length but very thick with a broad head. She slid herself off the table and onto her knees. Ht saw she was going down on him, and grabbed her head at the temples to direct it onto his cock. "Take it easy," she said. "I know what I'm doing." His cock was fully erect at a slight angle from his body and had a slight curve. It would go nicely down her throat. She grabbed his ass with both hands. His cheeks were firm and covered with soft hair. She squeezed them very hard and let his cock slide into her mouth. He gasped as he was enclosed in her warm moistness. She sucked on it for a few seconds to make sure it would not lose its stiffness. They didn't have much time and she wanted him in her. He pulled her head over his cock, trying to ram it farther down her throat. She tried to pull back-he was choking her, but he tightened his grip and shook her head so that her mouth slid rapidly back and forth over his cock. She felt it stiffen and strain to fill her entire mouth. She released his ass, brought her hands to her temples and forced him to let go.
She drew her mouth off his cock. He wanted to keep it in. Trying to reinsert it, he thrashed about clumsily. His cock slapped wetly against her cheek. She lowered her head beneath it and sucked his balls into her mouth. She felt him thrusting his cock against her hair and estimated that she could let him penetrate her cunt. While she probed against his balls with her tongue, she was unzipping her jeans. It was difficult pulling them off while she was on her knees, but she managed. At last she was completely nude. She let his balls drop slowly from her mouth and started to rise. When he felt his balls swing free, he looked down and saw she was getting up. He kneeled, placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her to the floor. She nearly screamed as her naked skin touched the freezing floor, but she clamped her lips together. As she lay prone on the floor, he took her legs in his hands and brought them up so that they were supported on his neck. Then he crouched on his heels and plunged into her. Drawn up as he had arranged her, she was completely open. His first thrust took him deep inside. She was wet but still unprepared for the force of his lunge. He held his cock deep in her while he adjusted himself so that he was using her ass as a saddle-seat. When he had arranged himself to his satisfaction, he started thrusting in and out of her. She had little freedom of movement. His violent plunges brought them both to the peak of sensation. He rode up and down on her, throwing his head back and grimacing. The veins in his neck stood out as he tossed his head from side to side. As his climax approached, his eyes closed and little pants and sighs were forced out of his mouth. He leaned forward over her. His head, torso and pelvis moved as a unit, pounding up and down in her cunt. Finally, with one deep thrust, he released, his come. He hadn't brought her to orgasm, but for the moment Andrea didn't care.
Gasping for breath, he hung over her for a minute--when he could speak again, he licked his lips and said, "We've got to get upstairs." He pulled out of her, retrieved his pants from the floor, took a handkerchief from the pocket, and wiped off his cock. He untangled his underpants and trousers and stepped into them. He looked in the glass on the door, ran his fingers through his hair and buttoned his jacket. While he was dressing, Andrea slipped into her own things and was ready to leave before he was. He held open the door for her. She started to walk out, stopped in front of him and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He grabbed her by her hands and pulled her toward him. For an instant their tongues met, then Andrea broke free and walked in front of him toward the stairs. M.J. Starr Cp. was in business.
Chapter 9
The voice on the phone was harsh. "Well, why don't you answer?" There was no reply. "Do you hear me? Bob?"
"Yes. I hear you."
"Then why don't you say so?"
Bob's eyes were closed and he gripped his lower lip between his teeth as though he were straining to visualize something. Again the voice buzzed through the wire, "Bob, what are you doing?" Bob did not answer. His hand pressed softly against the bulge at his groin. He felt pleasantly hot all over. He rubbed his hand against his cock. He squeezed his thighs together. His cock pressed against the rough cloth and muffled his moan of pleasure.
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything. I'm waiting for you to talk."
"I can't talk if you're not going to answer me."
The janitor opened his thighs. "I'll talk to you. Hold on just a second. I have to get something." He set the receiver on the bed, then bent down to a box underneath the bed and slid it out. It was a collection of snapshots. He, rummaged through them until he found what he was looking for. It was a studio portrait--a headland-shoulders shot of a beautiful young woman, with high cheekbones and thick dark hair. He laid the photograph on the bed, then took up the phone receiver and placed it against his ear, balancing it on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he spoke into the phone. "I'm back." His hands were free. He fumbled at the belt of his pants, ripped down the zipper and climbed out of them, leaving himself naked from the waist down. The voice on the telephone asked, "Are you all right?"
"I'm all right," he answered, breathing with difficulty. He reseated himself on the bed, drew up his legs so that the heels rested flat on it and placed the photograph between his feet. The shadow of his erection fell across the face in the picture. "I can hear you. You can talk to me," he said imploringly. Silently, he formed the name, Laura, repeated it, slowly squeezing his prick.
The voice at the other end still tried to get his attention, "Bob, Bob. Will you pay attention?"
"Yes, yes," he answered, bringing the picture up to his mouth and kissing it. "Daddy wants to know whether the buzzer was fixed. We got a complaint that it wasn't working."
"It's working."
"Did you fix it?"
"It's working. It's working."
He rubbed his thumb back and forth around the head of his cock. He let his fluid seep onto the finger, then delicately ran it along the ridge where the head met the shaft.
"Did you fix it?" the girl at the other end asked.
"It's working," he said in a husky voice.
"What about the fuel delivery?"
Bob ran his tongue along the mouth of the face in the picture. "What?"
"The fuel delivery," the voice repeated impatiently.
"It's working." He bounced his palm up and down against his cock. As it stiffened and the flow increased, he alternately squeezed and bounced. He liked to hear the slapping sound his cock made against his hand. His caller continued to try to arouse a response from him.
"Bob, Daddy's gone out of town for a few days. He wanted to be sure these thing were taken care of."
"Uh huh," Bob said. He replaced the picture at his feet. He bent forward, pushed his cock out of his hand and spit into it. Then he mashed his cock into the little pool of saliva. He closed his eyes, "Laura, Laura." he mouthed silently.
"I thought you could tell me what I wanted to know over the telephone, but if you're not, I'm just going to have to come over."
The pressure was building up in Bob's ears as the excitement mounted in him. "Uh huh."
"I'll see you later. Bob."
"Uh, huh. Uh huh." His seeping fluid mixed with the saliva. He ground the mixture into the head of his cock. He pressed the telephone tight against his ear, mouthing once more, "Laura, Laura." He ran his fingers down the shaft of his cock. He pressed at the point where his cock and balls joined and shuddered as another drop of come welled out of his hole. His body under his shirt was steaming--he wanted to expose it to the air and run his hands over himself. He started to undo the buttons but his hands were clumsy. He ripped the shirt open and pulled one arm out of the sleeve. He shifted the phone to his other ear and removed the shirt completely.
"Laura?"' he asked into the mouthpiece. There was a click and then the continuing buzz of the dial tone. He threw the receiver to the floor, then directed his attention to the photograph on the bed, Once again, he brought it to his mouth, kissing and licking it, and squeezing his cock as he did. He moaned and made little cries. The hand that had been caressing his prick rubbed up his body. He pulled at his nipples and slid his hands into his soaking arm pits. "Oh, Laura," he gasped, "
He pivoted around on his buttocks so that he was facing the wall. He propped the photograph up against the wall, freeing his hands. He spread his legs. The photograph was framed between his knees. When he shut one eye, his cock appeared to be rubbing the face in the picture. He reclined on his back, exposing his asshole to the air. Then he spit once more into his right hand. He tapped the third finger of his left hand into the wet palm then sent it clown between his spreading cheeks and rubbed it back and forth over his asshole. The head of his cock bulged and the shaft stiffened. "I want to fuck you, Laura," he whispered at the picture. "I want to fuck you, Laura. I'm going to fuck you, Laura." He eased his ringer into his asshole. "Feel it, Laura?" he asked the picture. "It's coming in. I want you to feel it. It's coming in your cunt," His sphincter muscle was tight against his finger. He rotated his probing finger in the opening of his ass, then withdrew it. "I'm going to fuck your cunt, Laura," lie gasped. He pushed his finger in as far as he could go--the hot skin of his anus parted. "All the way in, Laura," he whispered. "Ram all the way in." His cock jerked in his hand. He started to withdraw his finger. All the sweetness seemed to follow his finger out of his ass and then shoot suddenly up onto his cock which jerked and began spurting his thick come. The first wave shot into the air and dropped to the bed between his legs. He caught the rest of the ejaculation in his hand as it dribbled down his cock and he rubbed it along the shaft. For seconds, he was a mass of quivering delight. He continued squeezing his cock, letting the decreased flow dribble onto his fingers. He grunted contentedly.
His cock fell suddenly, losing its stiffness but not its length. He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles, squeezing his finger between his cheeks. The muscles in his thighs ached. His breathing was still uneven and his eyes were still shut. He lay for a few minutes as his body calmed itself. He began to cool. His sweat which had been flowing so freely had dried and made him feel sticky. His cock was shriveling and the come he had rubbed onto the shaft had also dried. He released his finger that was between the cheeks of his ass. Both his arms fell alongside his body on the bed. He yawned and turned on his side. His soft cock fell forward. Bob clasped it in his hands, drew his knees up around them and fell asleep.
He was awakened by someone pounding on the door. He sat up and glanced at the clock on the floor. The phone had fallen off the bed and knocked it on its side. He leaned over the edge of the bed and checked the time. It still wasn't eight o'clock.
"Hey, Bob," a man called outside the door, "Let us in."
"Who is it?" Bob asked.
"Today's the first of the month," the answer came through the closed door. The first of the month? Suddenly, Bob remembered. Tonight was when the trio from the third floor was going to give him his first show. They were going to do anything he wanted. He could see Andrea naked again. Tim would eat her if he asked. His cock twitched.
"Just a second," he called.
He jumped from the bed and rushed to a wash-stand near the toilet closet. Swiftly, he soaped his hands and face and ran a hand down to clean his cock and matted pubic hair. He reached into die toilet closet where a towel hung on a hook, dried himself carelessly, and threw the towel to one side. He put the picture of Laura back into the box of photographs and pushed it under the bed. The sheet on the bed was filthy. Bob looked around for something to cover it with, but there was nothing in sight. He yanked the sheet off, bunched it into a ball and tossed it into a corner. He pulled himself into his pants. His shirt was ripped. There was another one hanging on the back of the door. He flung himself into it.
"Hey, Bob," Tim called.
"I'm coming," he shouted. He started to run to the door but he had no shoes or socks on. He looked around to see where he had put them. He couldn't find socks, so he thrust his feet into his shoes and knotted the laces. "I'm coming," he called, plodding to the door. He unlocked it and yanked it open.
Tim stood in the doorway. "What took you so long?" he demanded.
"I wasn't dressed," Bob tried to explain.
Tim burst out laughing. "He wasn't dressed," he said over his shoulder to Andrea and Sue. He pushed past Bob into the room, Andrea followed, Sue was the last to enter. Sue's mouth dropped open, she was incredulous. "Jesus Christ," she said softly. "I don't believe it."
"I told you," Andrea said.
"No," Sue repeated. "I don't believe it."
"Do you want me to open the window?" Bob asked anxiously. He ran to the window and began fumbling with the lock.
"Is that a rat?" Sue yelled.
"Where?" Andrea shrieked.
"It ran behind the door."
Bob had pulled the door open so far that it rested against the wall it was set in. Sue pulled it quickly by the knob to see if the thing she had seen was behind it. The force of her yank spun the door into its frame, closing them all in the room.
"I don't see any rat," Andrea said.
Still at the window, Bob protested, "There aren't rats. My uncle has an exterminator. He doesn't like rats."
"My mistake," Sue said ironically. "Rats must be the only thing he doesn't have down here."
Bob pulled the window open and indicated his success with a nod of the head and a smile.
"See?"
"What's out there?" Sue asked.
"The back yard."
"Fresh air." The blonde took a deep breath and began coughing. Andrea noticed the unmade bed. "Don't you have a sheet?" she asked Bob.
"It's dirty," he said apologetically. "Why do you need a sheet?"
"Forget it, Andy," Sue chimed in cheerfully. "We'll really work for our money." She glanced up at the ceiling. "I won't ask whether he's got any dimmer lights. This place looks like a bar they wouldn't have on the Bowery. All right, let's get it over with. Who do you want to see first?"
The janitor looked around aimlessly. "I don't know."
"Come on. You must have done some thinking."
Bob smiled.
"Attaboy. Tell us."
"Anything I say?"
"Say something."
"Well," Bob thought it out slowly. "First you should ail go stand by the bed."
The trio trooped dutifully to stand before Bob's unmade bed. "You," Bob pointed to Sue. She stepped forward and curtsied. "Take your pants off." Sue squeezed out of her deck shoes to stand barefoot on the filthy floor. She was wearing a pair of white pants that outlined the contours of her heavy legs. She unzipped them, held on to the waist and stepped out of them. She folded them carefully, grimaced and laid them on the bed. "Turn around," Bob instructed her.
"Why do you want her to turn around?" Tim asked innocently.
"You said I could ask anything I wanted," Bob pouted.
"Sure. But what do you want to see?"
"I want to see her ass," the janitor said impatiently.
"Can you see through her panties?" Sue wore a pair of sheer pink panties.
"I want to see the crack of her ass through her panties," Bob whispered.
"Turn around, Sue," Tim instructed. The heavy blonde turned her back to Bob. Her wide hips strained against the sheer material. The overflow of her buttocks swelled out at the sides.
"Squat down," Bob said.
"Tell why," Tim insisted.
"I want to see her crack stretch."
Sue kneeled. Bob watched carefully as she went to her knees. He followed the division in her ass as it moved underneath the panties.
"O.K., you can stand up."
Sue stood.
"Take them off."
Sue removed her panties and placed them on top of her slacks. Bob's cock hardened as he stared at her bare pink ass.
"You!" he indicated Tim. "Go kiss her ass. Quick. I want to see you kiss her ass."
Tim kneeled behind Sue and planted a kiss on the crack of her ass.
"Kiss it again," the janitor insisted. Tim kissed it with a wet smack. "Now kiss it in front."
"Where in front?" Tim asked.
"Huh?"
"What do you want me to kiss in front?"
"I want you to kiss her cunt," Bob said breathlessly.
Tim reached up to turn Sue around by the waist, but Bob stopped him.
"Not that way," he directed. "Kiss it from underneath. Get underneath her and kiss it."
Tim directed Sue to stand with her legs apart. Still on his knees, he crawled between them underneath her pelvis.
"Turn around," Bob ordered. "I want to see your face."
Tim turned. On his knees underneath Sue, he raised his head and kissed her cunt. Bob ordered him to lick it with his tongue. Then he told Sue to bend slightly forward so that he could see the blond hair. Tim complained that his neck was aching and asked if they could change positions.
"No. Keep licking it that way until I tell you stop." He put his hand into his pocket and arranged his erection between his thighs. Then he closed his thighs around it and continued to squeeze as he gave orders.
He was rapidly becoming excited but he did not want to have an ejaculation. There was too much he wanted to have them do. He hoped he would be able to hold out. Just the idea that they were in his room following his orders made his cock throb with pleasure. "Is she wet yet?" he asked Tim. "Not yet," Tim confessed cheerfully. "Then suck it. Put your mouth over her cunt. Let me hear you suck it." Tim opened his mouth wide and reached up to grip Sue's cunt. "I can't get it in this position," he complained. "Well, O.K.," Bob said grudgingly. "You can do it later."
"Lets not wait," Sue said. She gripped Tim's head in her hands and squatted down to bring her cunt closer to his mouth. When she felt his hot breath on her, she ground her pelvis from side to side rubbing her dry cunt over his closed mouth. "That's better." she murmured. Bob watched, fascinated as the little round eye of her asshole winked in and out of sight between' her spreading and retracting ass cheeks.
"Is she wet yet?" he repeated.
"She's getting there," Sue answered hotly.
"O.K., then hold it," the janitor commanded. "Undress her," he pointed to Andrea.
Sue straightened up and Tim rose. Andrea raised her arms and Sue lifted the top over her head. At the same time, Tim pulled down her pants. She wasn't wearing underwear. When they got through with her, she was naked. The trio stood before Bob waiting for further orders. Tim was still clothed and Bob had not asked Sue to remove her blouse. The janitor ordered Andrea to stand between her two friends. He told her to take a breast in each hand and hold them for Sue and Tim to suck on. While they were sucking, he gave them the further order to each insert a finger into Andrea's cunt. Andrea began to protest but Sue cut her off. She stopped sucking the unresponsive nipple and turned to the janitor.
"Listen, your combinations are great; you've got a fantastic imagination, but your experience is limited. Why don't you take a chair? We'll improvise for you."
Bob stared suspiciously at her but agreed to let her take over.
Sue directed Tim to remove his clothes. She pulled off her blouse. At last all three were naked--Sue motioned them into a huddle, they whispered together for a few seconds then broke. Sue stood in front of Tim, Andrea behind. They began to kiss and lick a path down his body. Sue began at the chest. She kissed across it, nibbled at his nipples, darted a tongue under his arms and traced the line down to his navel. Andrea licked down his spine. It ended in two dimples above his buttocks. She caressed these, then fitted her tongue lightly into the crack of his ass and followed it down. He squeezed his cheeks together trying to trap her tongue but she stayed just at the edge and followed the crease until she came to the rear of his balls. In the meantime, Sue kissed the underside of Tim's cock and came to rest in front of his balls. The two girls kneeled on either side of him--Sue licked in front, Andrea in the rear. Sue drew the balls into her mouth and Andrea followed to prod them with her tongue. Then Sue released them and the girls attempted to play ping pong with Tim's balls, each one using her tongue to knock them toward the other. The excitement caused his balls to retract and they had to give up that game. The final thrust sent Andrea's tongue into Sue's mouth. They kissed deeply as Tim, legs apart, squatted over their heads. His hardon bulged into Sue's head. Bob got another idea. "Run his prick through your hair," he ordered. Sue gave a final suck on Andrea's tongue and withdrew, licking her friend's lips lightly. She lifted a hunk of her hair and wrapped it around Tim's cock. Bob watched eagerly as the stiff red rod showed through the blonde strands. He glanced at Tim's face. The young man was grinning as the silky hair aroused his sensitive cock. Andrea came to kneel beside Sue. She lifted her own hair and threw it over Sue's. The blond and black hairs tangled and entwined. Tim thrust forward.
"I feel like I'm in a cunt without walls," he said softly. He pressed his cock against Sue's temple, then pushed Andrea's head to the other side. He rotated the girl's temples gently against his erection. "Hey! Don't come in my ear," Sue warned. She pulled back and removed her wet hair from his cock. She untangled it from Andrea's, picked off one or two strands that were plastered on it, then sucked it into her mouth. Sue withdrew and bent his cock toward Andrea, who licked it all over before taking it into her I mouth.
Bob shouted, "If he comes, don't swallow it."
"What do you want us to do?" Sue demanded. "Bottle it?"
"Whoever catches it," Bob instructed, "push it into the other's mouth--but not all--you should both have some and then swallow it."
"You'd better get ready," Tim cautioned.
"Hey, let me," Sue demanded, yanking Tim's prick from Andrea's mouth. It came out with a slight pop. A fresh flow of his lubricant seeped out as Sue drew him between her willing lips. She held the base of the shaft between two fingers and sucked on it rapidly. Tim bent slightly forward, steadying himself on Sue's shoulders. His knees trembled.
"Get ready," he said in an unsteady voice.
"Remember what I said," Bob screamed. "Don't swallow it."
The sound of Sue's mouth on Tim's cock increased Bob's excitement. In his pocket, his hand clutched furiously at his erection. He was trying to time it so that he would come at the same time Tim shot into Sue's mouth. Andrea had returned behind Tim and was licking the crease of his ass. It widened as he leaned forward at a sharper angle on Sue's shoulders to force his cock even farther down her throat. She was just reaching to probe his asshole when she heard an unfamiliar woman's voice.
"What is going on here?" the question was asked in tones of unmistakable disgust. Andrea peered around Tim's backside to see who it was. Sue also startled, turned. Tim's bursting cock slid from her mouth. As it did, he came, shooting onto her hair, the side of her face. Gasping his relief, he sagged onto her shoulders, barely hearing the newcomer ask "Bob, who are these people?"
Chapter 10
Bob giggled nervously. He had been rubbing the material of his pants pocket against his cock. The rough material irritated the cock in his pants, but it felt good. He was working up to a dry, slow come and the unexpected entrance interrupted him. His giggle increased in intensity, building to a shriek. He burst into tears, the unexpected culmination to his excitement and threw himself face forward, beating his fists against the floor.
The girl at the door stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She looked disgustedly at Bob, then directed her attention to the naked trio. They blandly returned her stare. She walked to Bob and prodded him with her toe.
"Stop crying," she ordered impatiently. The janitor screeched louder. "Bob, shut up," she snapped. She sounded hysterical herself. She saw the open window in the rear wall and walked quickly to it. She stood in front of it, breathing deeply, trying to inhale fresh air into her lungs. Facing the window, she said in a strained voice, "Bob, I'm going to count to seven. When I reach seven, I don't want to hear any more crying."
"What are you doing here?" the janitor sobbed.
The count began. "One."
"Why did you come?"
"Two."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Three."
Thoroughly relaxed, Tim pulled himself to his feet. "Hey, Bob," he said. "I guess no one's going to answer your questions until you shut up."
The girl at the window turned into the room. Tim sauntered to where his pants lay to remove a handkerchief. A gob of his come had been tossed onto the head of his prick which was still damp from being sucked. Gently holding it in one hand, he used the handkerchief in the other to wipe off the residue.
"Must you play with yourself right now?" the girl at the window asked frigidly.
"I'm done playing," Tim confessed. "I'm cleaning up."
"Why don't you turn your back?" she suggested.
"We're all friends here," the handsome stud grinned at her. "I'm Tim. This is Sue. This is Andy. Who are you?"
She ignored his question. "Bob, tell these people to get dressed and get out." Bob sat up on the floor. With his grimy fingers he rubbed the tears off his face which was streaked with sweat and dirt.
"Laura," he began sniveling.
She turned away from him. "At least go wash your face."
Bob rose and went over to the wash basin. Laura followed. She had to pass Tim. He blocked her way for a second, then stepped back to let her by. "If you're through displaying yourself," she said contemptuously, "I suggest you cover yourself. Since you're all friends, I'm sure everyone here knows by now just what you own. I'm not interested." She followed Bob to the wash basin. "Don't you have any towels?" He mumbled something inaudible through his wet hands.
Sue piped up gamely, "You don't have to get dressed on my account, Tim. I like to look at what you've got."
Andrea disagreed. "Let's get the hell out of here. I need a shower."
Laura abandoned the hunt for a towel. "Do you people live in this building?" she asked coolly.
"What's it to you?" Tim asked.
"I'm sure there must be some clause in your lease that would consider this circus grounds for eviction."
"You hunt for it," Tim said, pulling on his pants.
"As for you, Bob," Laura went on with her speech, "you're going to have to do some explaining to my father." She raised a hand to rub her forehead. She felt a headache forming. There was no air in the room. The heavy smell of sweat and sex seemed to push through her nostrils. Naked, Andrea and Sue were standing side by side. Their two bodies were a sharp contrast in forms--one, dark with high breasts, a tapering waist and exquisite legs; the other, pink and chunkier with less definition--but both womanly and unashamed. Laura's mind flashed back to the second she had entered. A moment before she had been ready to knock on the door when she heard strange noises from inside. She turned the knob, the door was unlocked. That was unusual--Bob never left the door unlocked. She'd pushed it open quietly. What she saw caused her to catch her breath--whether it was revulsion or excitement, she did not know. A blond girl was kneeling in front of a man, his penis in her mouth. Another girl kneeled on the floor behind him. What she was doing, Laura could only imagine. Fascinated, she found herself watching intently. How long she might have watched, she'd never know. A sudden movement at the side attracted her. She whirled her head. Bob was staring open-mouthed at her. Their glances held for a fraction of an instant. She noticed the bulge of his hand in his pocket. Not knowing what she was saying, she blurted out, "Bob, who are these people?"
The remembrance flooded her mind. How long would she have watched if Bob had not seen her? And what had she felt? Was it revulsion or excitement she was suppressing, as she tried to bring order into the room? Had she commanded Tim to get dressed because the sight of his nakedness offended her or because she feared that if he didn't she would go down on her knees before him? She let out a tiny gasp. She felt wobbly. She started to pitch forward. Suddenly, she didn't know how, Tim was holding her against his bare chest. The odor of his drying sweat rose to her nostrils as her head drooped against him. Her strength returned unexpectedly.
"Let me go," she clawed at him, striking out. "Take your hands off me." She slashed at his face. He caught both her hands in his, immobilizing her. Their eyes locked for a second then she resumed her struggle. They were standing near the bed. He pushed her with gentle force onto it.
"You'd better sit down," he ordered her. "You don't look too well."
Fighting hysteria, she choked down her sobs and forced herself to sit rigidly on the bed. "I don't need advice from you," she spat at him.
In some dark corner, Bob had found a towel. Drying his hands, he crouched timidly forward between Tim and Laura.
"Don't hurt her," he pleaded with Tim.
"I'm not hurting her," Tim protested.
"Don't stand over me," Laura shouted. "I can't breathe."
"Laura, Laura," Bob persisted.
"Leave me alone, Bob."
"You won't tell Uncle Maurice, will you? He'd be angry, I know."
Tim and the two girls exchanged rapid glances. Sue interjected quickly, "Your uncle doesn't have to know a thing."
Laura had regained some of her strength. "I'll tell my father as much as I think he has to know."
"But, Laura," Bob's eyes began to fill with tears.
"Don't blubber," his cousin said with disgust.
"Are you Bob's cousin?" Tim tried to get the story straight.
Laura felt steady enough to rise. "I'm Laura Starr. My father owns this building. My cousin Bob is supposed to be the janitor. He is not supposed to be conducting orgies in the basement. I think it's something my father will want, to know about."
Bob burst into tears. "Don't tell him, please, Laura, don't tell Uncle Maurice. I won't do it again. I promise. I'll be good. I won't let them down here again. We'll kick them out of the building. They'll have to go away. I won't give them any money. Just don't tell Uncle Maurice. I won't give them anything. You'll see. It will never happen again."
At the mention of money, Laura snapped to attention. Sue saw the other girl's interest aroused and she reasoned that their plot was about to explode. "Let's get dressed, Andy," she warned. "We may have to beat a hasty exit." The two girls began to pull on their clothes. Laura ran rapidly to the door and locked it.
"No one is going anywhere," she said firmly. "No one is leaving this room until I get an explanation of what is going on"
Tim tried to talk their way out of the uncomfortable situation. He indicated to Laura that her moronic cousin was the last person to tell a coherent story. Laura smiled, snubbed him, and directed, her attention to Bob. All Bob could think of was that be was going to lose the position his uncle had entrusted to him. He would be revealed as an incompetent and a disgrace to the family. He had to make a choice. Should he give up the anticipation of the shows the trio had promised him? When he gave them the money, his uncle would probably fire him anyway. Perhaps it was better to expose them now and fall back on his uncle's kindness, promising that he would reform and never do anything like it again. He took the chance. Falling on his knees, he blurted out the entire story.
"Going once. Going twice. Gone." Tim said, amused.
Laura looked at him, eyes blazing. "You think you're funny? I think this is a matter for the police."
"Cool it," Tim said evenly. "It's our word against his as far as anyone knows, it's all in his head. We don't have any money. Prove it. Give us a call when you do. Bob has the number." He smiled at Laura and moved toward the door. She hesitated but stepped aside. Tim unlocked it. He turned to his two friends, "Let's go," As they trooped out, he grinned ruefully at Bob. "Too bad, kid. You still haven't seen an ass sucked." Sue was the last to leave. Passing Laura, she smiled, "Nice to meet you." She closed the door quietly behind her.
Laura and Bob were alone. He stared hopefully at her, "Are you going to tell?" She ignored his question. She stared thoughtfully at his dirty, tear-streaked face. This was her cousin, the son of her father's brother. They shared the same genes, the same ancestors--there the difference stopped or so she had been instructed. All her life, Bob had been held up to her as an object of ridicule, someone to be shunned, an object of family derision. But was he so different from the rest of them? Scrutinizing him, she tried to imagine how he would appear with a washed face and a close shave. She shuddered. He would not look very different from the other men in the family. There was a strong likeness. How much of the difference had been induced from the outside? All his life Bob had heard how peculiar and backward he was. If no one had said anything, would these traits have been accented and so strongly delineated? Was it possible that Bob could have grown up to be very much like the other men in the family? Like her own father, Laura thought. Her own father had tormented Bob for as long as she could remember and even before, judging from family stories she had heard. How different could Bob be from her father--her father whose coarseness she loathed, whose habits and attitudes she scorned. No one ever took her father to task -no one mimicked or abused his tastes which, in their own way. were possibly as reprehensible as Bob's.
"Laura," Bob pleaded timidly. Their eyes met, Bob looked down. Even his eyes, she thought, are the same color as my father's. "Please, don't tell," he mumbled. Without stopping to think, she asked, "Did you like what you saw, Bob?" She caught herself horrified. What did she want to know? Helpless, she repeated the question. "Did you like what you saw, Bob?" He avoided answering. "I won't do it again." Hesitantly, word by word, she phrased her next question, "Did you do it too? Did you do what they were doing?"
He recoiled. "Leave me alone."
"Did you?" she urged him for an answer.
"Leave me alone," He backed into the room. She had to know and asked a third time. "No." He screeched. "NO. NO. MO."
"Why not?" she demanded. He burst into tears and beat his fists against the floor. "Can't. Can't. I can't. I never can. I want to. But I can't. I can't. I can't."
Laura's purse had fallen on the floor near the door when she first entered. She was standing over it. She bent to pick it up, threw open the door, and ran down the narrow hallway. Bob was not so very different from the rest of the family, she thought wildly. "I can't either."
Chapter 11
Tim, Andrea, and Sue lolled around watching television. Tim was trying to persuade the girls to sell their few belongings, scrounge around for some extra money and follow him out to the Coast. Sue was inclined to agree, but Andrea was reluctant. "What have you got to keep you?" Tim challenged her. Andrea decided to keep quiet about Gerald Scott. He had promised to call her, but she wasn't sure whether he would. In addition, if his disappointing lovemaking that afternoon was due to anything more than nervousness, she wasn't sure that she had a future with him. She evaded Tim's question. "Are you watching the boob tube or not?" she asked.
Someone knocked on the door. "One of our neighbors," Sue guessed. "Out to borrow a jugful of bourbon." She trudged to the door and opened it. "Well, hello, again," she greeted the caller. It was Bob's cousin, Laura.
"May I come in?"
Sue opened the door for her. Laura entered and stood bewildered in the tiny entrance. "We're all over there," Sue indicated. Laura turned to face the dimmed room. She made no noticeable sign that she was disturbed in any way to walk in again on the three of them naked.
Tim examined her approvingly. Downstairs, he hadn't really had the time to scrutinize her. She was of medium height, slender, with dark hair, full but small breasts. But it was her face that was the chief attraction--the features of an aristocrat with high cheekbones and a mouth turned down at the corners. A face that invited desire and at the same time rebuffed it. Mildly aroused, his cock started to lengthen. He decided to spare her the scene, rose, and disappeared into the bedroom. He returned a moment later, pulling on a pair or pants.
Sue took her robe from the bathroom and tied it around her. This left Andrea the only one unclothed. "Don't mind me," she scowled. Tim switched oft the T.V. "Have a seat," he invited Laura. She turned down his offer.
"I'm not staying."
"Have a drink?" Sue asked. Laura shook her head, no.
"I'm not here to threaten you," she began tentatively.
"You couldn't if you wanted," Andrea was belligerent. "We didn't get a chance to do anything."
"I said I wasn't," Laura was polite. "As a matter of fact, I came to ask whether you'd like to continue."
Sue gasped. Tim chuckled. Andrea didn't see what was funny, so she kept her mouth shut.
"For whose benefit?" asked Tim.
"You'll be paid, if that's what you mean," the janitor's cousin answered.
Tim held up a hand, palm forward. "Let me get this straight. You like what you saw tonight ... "
"I didn't say I liked it." Laura interrupted.
Tim corrected himself, "You didn't like what you saw tonight but you want us to keep on doing it."
"If you didn't like it, why should we do it?" interrupted Andrea.
"Forget whether she liked it or not," Sue chimed in. "How much are you going to pay?" she queried Laura.
"Hold it," said Tim. "Who's this for? You or your cousin?"
"Not for me," Laura was indignant. "I don't have to pay to see these things."
"She means she has friends who do it for her," Andrea interrupted.
Laura cut in frigidly, "If you're going to be funny ... "
"Be quiet, Andy," Sue admonished.
Laura resumed her offer. "Bob said you were going to get one month's rent receipts. I'll double it."
Sue exploded, "That's nearly six thousand dollars.
"Six thousand even," Laura said coolly. "Two thousand each. Is everybody satisfied?"
"It sounds good," Tim admitted, "What's the catch?"
"There is none."
"Twice a week we're supposed to march down to Bob's little cave and suck and fuck each other for his education and delight? How long do you want us to keep it up?"
"Until he is potent," Laura said slowly and levelly.
"What do you mean by potent?"
"What you do excites him--he can sustain an erection. But he'd lose it if you asked him to join in."
"No shit?" Sue was amazed.
"Didn't you know?"
"I didn't think about it," the blonde confessed.
"He's impotent with anyone but himself. I think if you spend enough time with him, you'll be able to help him overcome that."
Andrea asked disgustedly, "You want us to let him fuck us?"
"Why not? You don't seem to be the type of girl who's terribly particular about what she does."
"I've heard enough," Andrea said angrily.
Tim calmed her down. "I don't think we've heard the whole story." He rose so that he was looking down at Laura. "After we hit it off with your cousin and he's had a big time coming in some cunt--Sue's or Andy's--you want us to report back to you?"
"That's right."
"You only want the satisfaction of knowing that you've bought a service to help your cousin achieve his manhood, do I read you right?"
"My motives are my own business," Laura said. She clasped her hands in front of her.
Tim stared down. They were shaking. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he went on. "But I think you want us to make this dry-run to prime him for a bigger show."
"That's your opinion. All you have to worry about is whether or not you succeed. If you do, you'll have my check."
"How long have you had the hots for your cousin?"
Sue exploded. "She wants him? She wants to fuck him?"
Andrea laughed broadly, "I don't believe it."
Laura glanced down at the nude girl laughing on the floor. Her breasts rode up and down and her tight stomach rippled. Laura shut her eyes. "I said, never mind. If you don't want to do it ... "
"Hey, hold it," Tim said. "We'll do it. When do we get the check?"
"After."
"After what?"
"After Bob's succeeded."
"Yeah. But succeeded with who? With Andy? With Sue?" Laura was silent. "Do you want to watch?"
"No!"
"Then you'll take our word?"
"No!"
"Then who's he supposed to succeed with?"
Laura glared at him hotly, her eyes blazing hate. "All right! You want to hear me say it! With me god damit! With me!"
At last she had said it. She wanted Bob. She wanted to be fucked by her idiot cousin. She wanted more than just the perverse pleasure of that one moment-she wanted his baby. She wanted the culmination of that incestuous joining--his seed shooting into her fertile body and penetrating her ovum to produce a child. She wanted the joy of seeing the shocked look on her father's face when she told him she was pregnant. She knew he would turn white with anger when she refused to undergo an abortion. She imagined with pleasure the nine months of pregnancy as she grew heavier with child, she, his darling daughter who despised and detested him and who, all her life, had been the object of his brute protection. She would refuse to answer the question she knew he would ask. "Tell me who the man was?" Nothing! Nothing would drag the answer out of her--not threats, not physical force, not promises that she would be disinherited--she would be silent. She could undergo any tribulation for the supreme satisfaction she knew would be hers after she had delivered the baby. She hoped that it would, unmistakably, look like Bob. Even if it did not, the merging of the family genes should produce a child with strongly familial features. There would be no doubt when she called her father to her hospital bedside to tell him: "Bob is the father of my child. Your idiot nephew made this baby with me. Your idiot nephew is your son-in-law. Go congratulate him in that stinking hole you built for him."
Now her eyes shooting hate and anger at Tim saw only the possibility of that hospital scene. She needed the consent of Tim and the girls to make it a reality. "Will you do it?" she asked harshly. "No more questions. Will you do it?" Tim looked to his companions for confirmation. Sue widened her eyes as if to say, "why not?"
"Andy?" asked Tim.
"He fucks Sue, not me," was all the petite brunette answered.
Chapter 12
The next morning, Sue went down to check the mail. Earlier, Andrea had received a call from the temporary agency she was registered with. They desperately needed someone to fill a call from a long-term client. She had grumbled, but--since the money Laura had promised couldn't be counted on for at least another month--she had dragged herself from bed and left for work. Sue decided to spend the day window-shopping. In the foyer of the building she ran into two of the tenants, Mrs. Robbins, the lady who lived in the apartment next to theirs and Mr. Wilson who lived in the apartment above Mrs. Robbins.
Sue nodded hello and opened the mail box. It was stuffed with a great many circulars and other junk mail. Mrs. Robbins and Mr. Wilson had been speaking when Sue entered the foyer and they continued their conversation in low tones as she leafed through her mail. She heard what sounded like a reference to Bob and she picked up her head to listen.
"Well, Mr. Starr should certainly be told," she heard Mrs. Wilson declare primly. "But the circumstances being what they are, I feel the complaint should come from a lady."
"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Robbins sighed, "but I can't bring myself. He seems a harmless enough young man otherwise why would his uncle ... I mean you'd think ... it is something the family would know about."
"I wouldn't be too sure." Mr. Wilson rebutted primly.
Sue turned to face them with a cheerful smile, "Trouble in the building?" she asked. The elderly couple exchanged a look. Mr. Wilson set his lips in a thin line and shook his head severely. Mrs. Robbins smiled vaguely. "Well, my dear, if you don't know ... "
"Better to say nothing," admonished Mr. Wilson. "You don't want to frighten the young lady."
"I don't scare easily," Sue said confidently.
Mrs. Robbins implored Mr. Wilson, "Perhaps, for her own protection ... " The man cut in, "But if the uncle were told, there would be no need for this protection."
"Are you talking about the janitor?" Sue asked.
"Then you know about it?" Mr. Wilson said sharply.
"About what?" Sue innocently demanded.
The man's a voyeur!"
"Do you mean a Peeping Tom?"
Mr. Wilson sighed deeply, "Well, since the cat's been let out of the bag ... Yes. A Peeping Tom. I have caught him looking into my bedroom window and Mrs. Robbins has found him doing the same."
Sue was wide-eyed. "You don't say."
"It is my strong feeling," the gentleman continued, "this his uncle should be told and that the young man should be removed from his position of responsibility."
"But if he only likes to look ... " Sue interjected.
"I would not be so forgiving if I were you, young lady," Mr. Wilson warned, "There are many cases on record where the looking was implemented by a great deal of touching. Needless tragedy was the result. All could have been averted by a few words to the right people at the right time."
At the moment, Sue was interested in only one thing. She wanted Bob to keep his job at the house. If his uncle fired him, she would be out two thousand dollars. "Are you going to tell his uncle?" she asked Mr. Wilson.
"Under the circumstances," he answered. "I feel the complaint should come from a lady who has been offended." He looked meaningfully at Sue. She shrugged helplessly. "This is the first I've heard about it."
"Mrs. Robbins," Mr. Wilson said accusingly, "refuses to cooperate."
Mrs. Robbins squirmed uncomfortably. "I didn't say I wouldn't. I just have to think about it."
Mr. Wilson concluded the discussion. "I must leave. I'm late this morning." He tipped his hat. "Don't say you haven't been warned."
Mrs. Robbins had been turning her mail key in her hand as the elderly gentleman lectured her. She turned to enter the building. "I don't know what to do," she murmured to herself. Abruptly, she stopped. "I came down to get my mail and I forgot all about it." She inserted the key in the box and opened it. She peered in. "Nothing today," she said automatically, closing and locking the box. She glanced at the pile Sue was holding. "My, you girls get a lot of mail."
"All junk," Sue said. The old woman smiled and started in again.
"I'm going up," Sue unlocked the inner door and held it for her. The two women started up the stairs. Sue came right to the point. "Are you going to squeal on the janitor?" Mrs. Robbins confessed again that she was very confused. She understood that the poor boy was not in his right mind and if he did his job and left everyone alone, there was no reason to complain. But, she went on, Mr. Wilson told her that being a Peeping Tom was a criminal offense. She certainly didn't want to help anyone break the law. "Do you know what I think?" she asked Sue. "Somebody should speak to him. Maybe somebody should speak to him. All a person ever needs sometimes is someone to speak to." They arrived at the third floor. Mrs. Rob-bins turned toward her apartment. She still had not answered Sue's question.
Sue began to grow frantic. She wanted assurance that Mrs. Robbins would keep her mouth shut. I need time to work on her, she thought. "Mrs. Robbins," she said out loud. "How about coming in for a cup of coffee?" The old lady hesitated. "Come on," Sue urged. "My roommate made a whole pot this morning. I can't drink it alone."
"All right. Thank you."
Sue led her visitor into the apartment. "Don't mind the mess." She started toward the kitchen. "Have a seat. I'll heat the coffee." She repeated, "I hope you don't mind the mess. I'll dump everything in the other room in a second." As she walked into the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, "I guess you must think we're pretty sloppy."
"Oh, no," she heard the old lady reply. "It has a nice, lived-in look. You can see there are two people really doing a lot of living in here. I don't mind." Sue came out of the kitchen and piled some of the things lying around. As she lifted them, Mrs. Robbins said, "Let me help."
Sue protested but the old lady insisted on helping her carry the things into the bedroom. They put them onto the bed. Sue thanked Mrs. Robbins, giving her a warm hug. The old lady blushed. So Sue kissed her.
"Now, now, now," Mrs. Robbins admonished.
"You'll be spoiling me." Sue told her she deserved to be spoiled. Mrs. Robbins said she shouldn't--she was used to living alone and having no one to care for.
"Well," Sue said vehemently. "In that ease, I've got to make up for it double." She kissed the old lady on the lips. It was a tiny smack and Sue retracted her head quickly but she still held the other woman by the shoulders. She bent, down and kissed her again. This time her lips lingered on the old lady's mouth. Mrs. Bobbins' hand came up and grasped Sue around the waist. Sue pulled her close. "There, there," she said soothingly. "You won't be spoiled." She kissed both wrinkled cheeks, then returned to the mouth. She opened her mouth over Mrs. Bobbins' and ran her tongue over her lips. Mrs. Robbins' lips parted slightly. Sue pushed her tongue between the slit made by the open lips and the old lady closed her mouth on it. Sue felt Mrs. Robbins thrust her tongue tip forward and run it over her tongue.
Sue probed deeper into the other mouth, forcing it open with her tongue. Mrs. Robbins pulled her head away. Sue looked at her questioningly. The old lady reddened. "My teeth," she said, covering her mouth with her hands. "I don't mind," Sue whispered, kissing her cheek. The other turned away from Sue, covering her mouth with both hands. Sue looked down at the ground--she heard a little click as the teeth were set on the night table near the bed. She seated herself on the bed, first pushing to the floor the things she and Mrs. Robbins had just carried in, then pulled the old lady down onto her lap. Mrs. Robbins opened her mouth avidly. Just before Sue bent her head to kiss her, she caught a glimpse of the dark, toothless mouth. She thrust her tongue between those soft gums and felt a tug at her cunt as her tongue was gripped between the smooth bony ridges. She unbuttoned Mrs. Robbins' housedress as far as the waist. The old lady started to push her away, but Sue murmured, "There, there," and caressed one of the large breasts through the brassiere.
Mrs. Robbins moaned and sucked on Sue's tongue. Sue's mouth had never before been enclosed in a mouth without teeth. The sensation increased her desire to have her cunt sucked by the same mouth. She undid the old lady's brassiere and slipped her out of it. Mrs. Robbins released Sue's tongue and brought a hand up to cover the girl's eyes.
"Don't look," she pleaded. Sue smiled at her. "I know they're beautiful," she said. "You're beautiful ... "
"No. No."
"Yes. You're beautiful. I know your breasts must be beautiful." She lowered her head to the breasts drooping in her hand. They were no longer elastic, the skin sagged and all the weight had concentrated behind the nipples. The nipples were brown, large, and rough--each extended out a thumb-nail's distance from the aureole. Sue drew the wrinkled teat into her mouth and licked it. Above her, the old lady breathed in sharply.
"Does that feel good?" Sue asked, speaking into the breast. A moan was the answer, as the vibrations of the girl's voice shot through the woman's body. Sue sucked the entire nipple into her mouth. The old lady's hands dug into her back. Sue nipped lightly at the nipple with her teeth and Mrs. Robbins went wild. Then she turned her mouth to the other breast, letting her fingers play with the one she had just sucked, rubbing the moist saliva into it. "Does that feel good?" she asked again.
"Oh, yes, so good," came the whispered reply.
"You deserve it," Sue said.
She let the breast drop and bent to kiss the smooth but flabby flesh underneath, completely unbuttoning the housedress as she did. She raised her partner slightly and freed the garment from where her body had pinned it to the bed. The old woman was wearing a girdle--the last time Sue had seen one was on her grandmother. She fumbled awkwardly with the strings and then stopped for a second to squeeze the old woman's cunt through her underwear. Sue pushed her on her back onto the bed and the old lady stayed that way, her hands clasped at her breasts, moaning that it felt so good. At last the girdle was unlaced and Sue slid it down under the spreading hips. She continued to caress the aged cunt through the heavy silk lingerie, then slowly and gently eased it down and off, Mrs. Robbins' body lay exposed to her view. Her bush of gray and white hairs was surprisingly thick. Her thighs were flabby and the fat on her hips draped loosely to the bed on either side of her pelvis. Sue placed her mouth over the old woman's cunt--Mrs. Robbins shrieked, then clamped a hand over her mouth. "That's all right," Sue assured her, kissing the cunt. "I imagine it must be terrible not having anyone to do this for you." She licked the cunt with her tongue. The old lady wiggled her legs. "Everyone needs someone."
She began to probe between the lips but decided to take her time. She didn't want Mrs. Bobbins to lose her head and miss what she was saying. "Everyone is lonely, Even the janitor. Everyone needs someone to care for him." She spread the old woman's cunt lips with her fingers, bent her bead and kissed the soft flesh. "We should understand why people do what they do. Do you hear me, Mrs. Robbins?"
"Oh, yes, yes," she heard the breathy reply. She licked the lips up and down letting her saliva dribble thickly onto them. The old lady began to secrete a thin trickle. Sue nibbled at the cunt with her teeth. "We shouldn't get anyone into trouble for doing what they have to do, Mrs. Robbins. We shouldn't blow the whistle on them," She pushed her index anger slowly into the slightly wet cunt. Mrs. Robbins was quivering. "We should understand why people do what they do. We should have compassion." She withdrew her finger, even more slowly than she had inserted it and sucked on the old woman's cunt. Then Sue lifted her head a bit. "Sometimes, we should just look the other way. Don't you agree?"
Mrs. Robbins swallowed hastily, "Yes. Yes."
"Of course you do," the blonde murmured.
She rose and pulled her shift off--she was naked underneath. She lay next to her visitor, her mouth at the woman's cunt. Sue pressed her own cunt toward the old lady's mouth. "Suck it," she offered. She felt Mrs. Robbins stiffen.
"I can't."
Sue licked and probed the aging cunt with her mouth and tongue. She thrust her hips into Mrs. Robbins's face. Again, the same apology, "I can't."
"Try, Mrs. Robbins," Sue urged. There was a tentative lick on her hairs. Sue pushed her cunt forward--this time, the tongue touched the outside lips. Sue gave a push, rolling Mrs. Robbins straight onto her back and then mounted her so that her cunt was pressing into the woman's mouth. Even if the old lady wanted to withdraw, she couldn't--she had no choice but to suck at the dripping cunt that Sue was lightly bouncing up and down against her. With a moan, Mrs. Robbins opened her mouth to it. Sue began to flow and the old woman licked and sucked. For a minute, Sue toyed with the idea of shoving a finger up the old lady's ass, but decided that Mrs. Robbins wasn't ready for it. Instead, she buried her head in the gray crotch and gave the lonely old lady an object lesson in the golden rule--how to do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Sue felt her guest respond to the lesson--she found Sue's erect clitoris and licked her to a climax.
Chapter 13
Leaving work that afternoon, Andrea was fighting a splitting headache. She'd felt it corning after lunch and had taken some aspirin but they didn't help. All through the afternoon, she'd worked with the beginning of an ache beating at the sides and back of her head. She'd tried to clear all thoughts out of her mind--the cause wasn't physical, she was sure of that--to give the pain a chance to have nothing to feed on. Andrea hadn't succeeded. She knew that the slightest annoyance would explode what was now a vague discomfort into a throbbing headache.
The worst thing was not knowing what was causing it. She wasn't about to have her period. The weather was hot but she'd suffered worse. The work she was doing was boring and aimless but she'd done worse and endured it. The people in the office were no more insipid than those in dozens of other places that she'd worked. They had the same petty intrigues, the same office politics, the same concealed hostilities covered by a saccharine smile. It was nothing she wasn't used to.
When she reached the street she was caught up in the familiar whirl of dirt, traffic and rushing, shoving. Permeating everything was that constant atmosphere of noise that was so familiar to Andrea, she hardly heard it--but she was aware of it that afternoon. As she left the building, a thought swiftly passed through her head--how many other things are uncomfortable and unnecessary, but always there, so loud that I don't notice them? As she crossed, a car jumping a light, screeched to a halt inches in front of her. She jumped back, cursing. The driver grinned at her apologetically. "Go to hell," she mouthed at him. She rushed across the street, barely hitting the sidewalk as the light changed and the halted cars zoomed forward.
She had to decide how to get home. The subway was definitely out. In her mood, she refused to be crowded into a steaming car with five hundred other people pressed against her. If she could get an air-conditioned bus, she'd be happier but not by much. There'd be just as many people as in a subway car and the benefit of the air conditioning would be lost, She decided to take a slow walk up First Avenue. It would take about an hour but she was in no hurry. As she walked east, she tried to remember the thought she'd latched on to, but it was gone. Oh, well, she sighed. It was no help. The headache still threatened.
As she neared the house, she realized she was getting hungry. She didn't want very much to eat, but she had to eat something. A cup of yogurt was what she'd like. She couldn't remember whether there was any left in the refrigerator, so she stopped in a supermarket along the way. She took a cup of yogurt from the dairy case and then meandered over to the fresh fruit and vegetable section and stood there, waiting for something to catch her eye.
Down the aisle from her, a little girl, about five years old, was dropping oranges into a bag. The more oranges she put in, she heavier the bag became for her and at last she dropped it. The bag tore and oranges rolled into the aisle. The little girl looked around helplessly. She saw Andrea watching her. "I dropped the "ranges," she sniffed.
Andrea smiled, "You need a bigger bag, honey." She removed a large green bag from a slot. "Tell you what. I'll hold the bag and you pile the oranges in, yes?"
The little girl nodded. She began retrieving oranges from the floor and dropped them into the bag that Andrea held open for her. "I'm helping my mommy," she explained. "She's getting the delicatessen," she phrased the large word carefully. "I'm getting the "ranges."
Andrea looked around to be sure that she had rescued all the fruit from the floor. A pretty redhead turned the aisle wheeling a loaded shopping cart. Supported in a sling, a dozing infant rode on her back.
"Jessica?" she inquired. Andrea smiled up at her.
"We're collecting oranges." The little girl's mother smiled and said to her daughter, "I thought you were helping me." The little girl grinned up at her mother. "They dropped. We picked them up." Still squatting on the floor. Andrea held out the bag to her.
"Did you thank the lady?" the mother asked.
Jessica looked impatiently at her mother. "I'm going to." She took the bag of oranges from Andrea. "Thank you. You've been a big help." She stepped forward and kissed Andrea's cheek.
"Well, thank you." Andrea rose. "You take care of those oranges."
"I will."
"Bye now." Andrea smiled at the child and the mother, then turned the aisle to the checkout counter. Out on the street, she couldn't face the idea of going back to the apartment. She wanted to be by herself for a while, without anyone around to have to answer or politely ignore. She continued walking east, crossed the overpass on the Drive, and descended the steps to walk along the river. It was still light, though the sun was beginning to sink in the west. She was alone--one or two people occupied benches but they wouldn't bother her. Everyone else was home, with their families, eating dinner or whatever it was families did together at this time.
She leaned against the railing and looked down into the water. She saw a headline in front of her eyes, "Unknown Actress Suicide in East River," She was startled--do I want to kill myself? Unexpectedly Andrea began to cry. She groped in her purse for a tissue. She blew her nose then looked around for a trash can. There was none. To hell with it, she thought, and let the tissue flutter to the water below. Andrea couldn't imagine why she was feeling so lousy. As far as she knew, she was in perfect physical health. Mental health too, for that matter. O.K., she said. I'm healthy. I'm happy. I'm doing what I want. What's wrong with me?
Or was she doing what she wanted? When she was a little girl, no bigger than the one in the supermarket, she'd wanted to be an actress. In a manner of speaking, she was. She didn't know anyone in the business who hadn't had to take jobs that he didn't want--there wasn't anyone who hadn't had to do some struggling. But was she struggling or was she just half-heartedly going through the motions? Since taking up with Sue and Tim, she'd learned to do things that she once would never have dreamed of. Well, so what? She was a grown woman with natural, appetites and desires--but did natural appetites and desires lead her to exhibitionistic scenes like the one she'd participated in last night before Bob? Did natural appetites and desires lead her to come on so wantonly with Gerald Scott in the bank vault? Did she really enjoy acting that way or was she somehow getting back at her parents, who had considered almost any expression of sex to be the cause for immediate punishment and rejection?
That's crazy, she thought ... I do it because I like it--and that's that--I'm not getting even with anybody, I like what I'm doing. She gripped the railing until her knuckles turned white. "I like it," she said to the water.
When she arrived home, Sue was just stepping out of the shower. The apartment was spotless. "What's the occasion?" she asked. Her friend credited it to excess energy.
"You didn't happen to see Bob when you were coming up, did you?" she asked.
Andrea groaned, "We're not doing it again tonight?"
The blonde wrapped a towel around her head. "You haven't heard anything yet!" She rolled her eyes meaningfully. Andrea removed the yogurt cup from the paper bag and went to the kitchen to find a spoon.
"I don't think I want to hear any agony tonight," she cautioned Sue.
"Honey, this will cauterize your cunt," Sue shouted after her.
"My what?" Andrea shrieked.
"I heard Bob say it last night," Sue tied her bathrobe around her.
"Bob never used the word cauterize in his life."
"Oh, I forgot." The blonde disappeared into the bedroom. "I took a note for you." She returned, holding a slip of paper. "Siri Cohen is having a play done at The Doorway Players. If you're interested in appearing nude, you have an audition tomorrow at six o'clock."
"Nude?" Andrea examined the note. "Nude--you know what that means--without clothes."
Andrea appeared flustered. "On stage? In front of an audience? What does she think I am?"
"An actress, honey," the blonde smiled at her. "Save me some of that yogurt. I want to be on a diet too."
"I'm not on a diet."
"Great. Then I'll take all the yogurt. What flavor is it?" She grabbed the cup and examined the label. "It's plain," she moaned, disappointed.
There was a knock at the door. "I hope I know who that is," Sue said grimly. She walked quickly across the room and flung open the door. "It's about time. Get in." Bob plodded in warily. Sue shut the door.
"I got your note," he explained.
"You took your time about it."
The janitor mumbled some excuse. Sue paid no attention and ordered him to take a chair. He saw that she was angry but he had no idea why. "My cousin told me we could have more shows," he said hopefully.
"There's not going to be lots of anything unless you watch out," she warned him.
"I didn't do anything," he defended himself.
"You've been looking in windows again," she answered.
Bob appeared genuinely bewildered. "You didn't say I shouldn't."
Sue shook her head helplessly. She looked to Andrea for support, but her friend had gone into the bedroom to undress. "Andy, would you like to know what is going on?" she asked exasperated, Andrea didn't but she assured Sue she was listening.
Sue described her meeting that morning with Mrs. Bobbins and Mr. Wilson. She told them how she had persuaded the old lady not to give Bob away to his uncle, Andrea flew out of the bedroom. "You laid that old bag?" she asked amazed. She'd run into Mrs. Bobbins once or twice in the hall. She was a pleasant old woman but Andrea would never have dreamed of making it with her. "I draw the line at old ladies," she stated firmly.
She went on, "I've got to undraw a few of my lines. Tonight, I'm going to try the same thing on Mr. Wilson. You'd better pray that it works, buster," she addressed Bob, "or there'll be no more shows or no more anything else for you from us," Andrea didn't believe Sue was serious, but her friend assured her that it was probably the only way to keep the old man quiet until they had been successful with Bob and picked up the check from his cousin. Andrea began pacing up and down the apartment.
"This is crazy. Why bother, Sue? Let's forget the whole thing."
"Andy, it's six thousand dollars."
"How do you know the old guy's not queer? How do you know he's interested in you?"
Sue brushed her off, "Too many questions! I'll know what I know after I've done what I'm going to do. I'm not asking for your help. I'll do it myself."
"I want to watch." Bob interrupted them. "I want to watch. His bedroom is in the back. If you do it in the bedroom. I can watch."
"Get it out of your head," Sue was firm. "You've sat at your last window for a long time. If I catch you at any more windows, I'll knock out your eyes."
Bob shook his head vehemently. "No. I want to watch. I want to watch him fuck you. If you don't let me watch, then I won't watch you again. I won't look at anything else you do. Maybe he'll call my uncle. Well. Maybe. But you won't get any money because I'll keep my eyes closed."
Andrea was upset. They were putting themselves though such contortions on the possible chance of getting Laura's money. How many more plans would Sue have to come-up with before they succeeded? There was no guarantee that they would. She paced up and down the apartment until Sue snapped at her to stop. "Oh, Sue," she pleaded. "Don't you see--?"
"Andy," Sue was sharp. "Let me do the thinking." She took a spoon from the kitchen and thoughtfully swallowed some yogurt. There had to be a solution. She didn't mind if Bob watched her ball Mr. Wilson but she couldn't trust him alone on the fire escape. Trust him alone, she thought. "Hey!" she swallowed a mouthful of the milky substance. "I've got it! Andy! This is how it'll work--I'll get Mr. Wilson into his bedroom and you get Bob up on the fire escape outside his window. Stay there and keep an eye on him. Just keep him quiet and everything will work fine."
Andrea started to protest but she saw that Sue was determined. "Well, all right," she had to agree. "But this is the only time. Positively the last and only time."
"When are you going?" Bob questioned eagerly.
"As soon as it's dark," Sue said. "In about an hour." She held out the yogurt cup. "You want some, Andy?"
The brunette shook her head. She couldn't eat. Now she did have a headache.
Bob watched television for the next hour. The flickering hurt Andrea's eyes. She lay in the darkened bedroom, trying to relax. It was no use--her nerves were on edge. Sue knocked on the door to announce that she was ready to go up. At that moment, the telephone rang. Sue answered it on the kitchen extension. In a second, she poked her head through the door. The call was for Andrea.
"I'm very impressed," she held her hand over the mouthpiece. " 'This is Gerald Scott. May I speak to Andrea?' " she quoted. "So polite," Andrea grabbed the extension off the night table. Someone new--someone not involved in this tangle of voyeurism and money. "Hello?"
He asked whether she remembered him. Well, she thought, he's not original, but he is polite. As. they talked, she kept making excuses for his conventional telephone manner. He wanted to take her to dinner the following evening. She asked whether he would mind waiting until after her audition. He offered to come downtown to pick her up. She gave him the address. They agreed to meet the following night. She hung up.
Sue came in, spouting instructions. Andrea was to take Bob onto the fire escape. She wanted them to sit on the steps until they saw the light go on in Mr. Wilson's bedroom. That would be the signal that she was successful. After that, they would be on their own. She shouted to Bob to switch off the T.V. and come into the bedroom. Grinning expectantly, the janitor joined them. Sue shut off the light, then ushered them out onto the fire escape. She gave them one last warning, "After I'm through with him, don't hang around expecting more. Get right down here."
Chapter 14
Sue knocked at Mr. Wilson's door. Behind the door he cleared his throat and asked, "Yes, who is it?" She put a smile into her voice and identified herself as Sue from the third floor. She heard him slip back the chain and turn the lock. The door opened. He was wearing slippers and was in his shirtsleeves but in addition, he wore a tie. He blocked the doorway. Problem Number One, Sue thought. How to get in?
She apologized for disturbing him. He excused her, claiming he was not disturbed. She asked if she could speak to him and he nodded politely. Sue decided to try the direct approach. "Could we talk inside? This is sort of a sticky subject and I'd rather nobody heard." He stepped back and let her enter.
"It's about Bob, the janitor," she began immediately. "Mrs. Robbins and I talked some more about him this morning. She agrees with me and is willing to give him another chance and not say anything to his uncle. I told her I'd speak to you and ask you to go along. What do you say?"
"I expressed my views to you this morning," the elderly gentleman answered coolly. "I have not changed my mind since then." He made a move as though he were about to show her to the door.
She cut him short, "Please, Mr. Wilson, I think we should talk about this."
"I don't see that we have anything to talk about," he said impatiently.
Sue felt worried--she'd been in the apartment for barely thirty seconds and he was already throwing her out. She had to think of something that would allow her to stay long enough to begin working on him. She made a quick assessment of his character. He was old enough to be a member of the generation that had only two classes of women--ladies and tramps. If she continued to act like a lady, she'd be out on her ass in five seconds. If she acted like a tramp, she might be out in fifteen, but that gave her a ten-second margin.
She narrowed her eyelids, trying to make them look as heavy as possible and smiled up at him. "You're not giving me much of a chance to plead my ease," she purred.
He swallowed hastily and said in a dignified tone, "I think you don't have much of a case to plead."
"All I ask is a chance." When she left her apartment she had not carried a pocketbook and had pushed her cigarettes down her blouse between her breasts. She credited herself with good planning. "Do you mind if I smoke?" Mr. Wilson expressed the regret that he couldn't offer her a cigarette--he didn't smoke. She smiled, reached into her blouse and extracted the pack. "But I have no matches," she shrugged. He had a box of safety matches in the kitchen. Sue followed him to the doorway. He struck one for her and held out the light--she grasped him lightly by the wrist and looked into his eyes as he lit her cigarette. She felt his hand shake slightly.
He must be older than I guessed, she thought to herself, This act is really giving him a charge. She inhaled sensually and exhaled as though she were just coming down from an orgasm. He held the match under the running water, then broke it in two and dropped it into the garbage. Help stamp out forest fires in New York City, she thought. She draped herself across the doorway. He asked stiffly, "Shall we continue our conversation in the living room?"
"Have you an ashtray? I don't want to drop ashes all over your beautiful floor." He opened one of the cabinet doors. He handed her an ashtray. "This place is really beautifully kept."
"I have a woman in once a week."
"Are you a widower?"
"I am."
She sighed, trying to suggest sympathy and lust, all on one exhalation. They were very close to the bedroom. She decided to take the plunge. "That's the bedroom, isn't it? Our apartments are laid out the same way." She pivoted herself around the wall projecting between the kitchen and bedroom. "Oh, but it's much cooler in here," she exclaimed. She smiled lingeringly up at him. "Can't we talk in here? It's not as stuffy as the living room." She switched on the light. "Oh, you have an air conditioner." There were two windows in the bedroom, set at right angles to each other. The one leading onto the fire escape was clear, but the Venetian blinds were lowered over it. "Don't you like to look out into the backyard? Very pretty at night."
"The angle is too steep. I can't see the backyard."
"That's too bad. But maybe you should stand closer to the window." She yanked on the cord that adjusted the tilt of the shades, angling them so that anyone outside could get a view in.
He stepped forward to stop her. "Please don't play with the blinds."
She intercepted him, grabbing his hand. "I think you're afraid that you-know-who is out there," she smiled. "Are you afraid?"
"Of course, I'm not afraid," he answered hotly.
"Neither am I." She drew him into the room. "Unless you don't want him to see what's going on in here." He protested that nothing was going on. She asked with a meaningful smile whether that was true all the time. He insisted that it was. She smiled, indicating she felt sorry for him. "It shouldn't have to be that way," she said. "You're still a very good looking man."
He said sternly, "I believe you came to discuss the janitor ... "
Well, Sue thought, it's now or never.
"I did come to discuss the janitor," she agreed. "We can discuss the janitor. Or you can let me kiss you." She moved closer to him. He stepped back. "Oh, Mr. Wilson," she said reproachfully. She grasped his wrist to steady him, stood on tiptoe and kissed him full on the mouth. His mouth was clamped stiffly shut. With her free hand she palmed the nape of his neck and pushed his head so that his closed mouth was tight against hers. She heard him make a little grunt in his throat. He didn't pull back.
On the fire escape, Bob's impatience was hard to control. While sitting outside the darkened bedroom, he had kept complaining to Andrea, "What's taking her so long? What's taking her so-long?" When at last the light had gone on and he saw that the window was blocked by a closed Venetian blind, his cursing seemed so loud that Andrea thought they were sure to be discovered. When Sue maneuvered the blinds they could look into the room and Bob was happier. But when nothing happened immediately, he poked Andrea demanding to know, "When are they going to start, huh?" At last Mr. Wilson began embracing Sue. Bob crept closer to the window to get a better look.
"Be careful," Andrea warned, extremely nervous, trying to watch out to see that no one observed them.
"Yeah, yeah," Bob breathed impatiently.
In the bedroom, Sue felt Mr. Wilson responding to her kiss. His hand tightened around hers. He bent his head. She came off tip-toe to stand flat on the ground. Still with a closed mouth, the old man began to kiss her face and neck. She rubbed her pelvis against him and was rewarded by feeling his prick twitch as it stiffened. "Mr. Wilson," she murmured as his mouth brushed her cheek.
"Little minx," he breathed in her ear. "Little minx."
It took all her control to keep from laughing out loud. Little Minx! She felt as though she were in a Ronald Colman movie. But Ronald Colman was long dead and Mr. Wilson very much alive--his bulging erection continued to swell against her. He kissed her mouth again. She opened her lips under his and his tongue slid in. Their tongues played in her mouth for a while then he suctioned her into his mouth. She ran her tongue over his gums. At least this one had all his own teeth, she thought. He forced her tongue deep into his mouth and sucked hard on it till she groaned in genuine pain. Meanwhile his hands had roamed down her body and grabbed her thick hips. He thrust his pelvis at hers, rotating her hips in his hand against his groin.
Sue extricated her tongue from his claw-like mouth. He lunged after it, but she managed to elude him, gasping, "Let's take off some of these clothes." Her sleeveless blouse buttoned in front. As he deftly unbuttoned her, he squeezed his thighs against hers. When she was unbuttoned, he slipped her out of her blouse, and let the garment drop to the floor. When he saw her huge breasts fall free, he licked his thin lips hungrily and lowered his head to them. He kissed them both, then pushed his head between them and gnawed into her breast bone while he rotated her breasts against his ears. He drew back, moistened her nipples, then rubbed the erect pink buds in his ears.
On the fire escape, Andrea was trying to pull Bob away from the window. "They'll see you," she whispered feverishly.
"They're going to do it. They're going to do it," the janitor squealed.
"Sit back," Andrea ordered.
Bob assured her, "They can't see me." He pressed forward to lean against the window. Andrea grabbed his hand, but he yanked it violently away. It struck the window noisily.
Mr. Wilson sifted his head from the girl's breasts. "Someone's outside."
"Relax, I didn't hear a thing," she tried to force his mouth onto her breasts. He pushed her aside and tugged at the Venetian blind cord. It flew into the air.
"The janitor!" he shouted.
After striking the window, Bob had remained glued to the glass, not sure whether he had been heard, when suddenly the blind was raised and Mr. Wilson's furious face confronted him through the glass. He rose and dashed up the fire escape stars toward the roof. Andrea was standing on the steps just below, not sure if she ought to follow him or get back to her own apartment, when the window was pushed open. Mr. Wilson had swiftly unlocked it--his head through the window, he ordered loudly. "Don't move, I see you." Andrea froze.
Sue came up behind the old man, took him around the waist and ground her hips into his buttocks. "Mr. Wilson," she whispered into his ear, "Let the poor man go."
He pushed her roughly away. "What's going, here?" he demanded. "You!" he ordered Andrea, "Come in here!" Andrea reluctantly crawled through the fire escape into his room. "This is your roommate, isn't it?" he accused Sue. "Don't try to deny it. She was out there with the janitor." Andrea and Sue exchanged anxious glances--they were speechless, Mr. Wilson continued his fulminations. "Obviously, this is part of a plot. It must be. Well, I won't try to unearth it, I'll leave that up to the police detectives."
Sue stopped him, "Mr. Wilson, we were just trying to help poor Bob."
"Aiding a pervert on his round of illegal activities is not a definition of help. You'll have some heavy explaining to do, I'm sure."
Sue opened her eyes very wide, trying to suggest innocence. "Mr. Wilson," she cooed, "Why do you always have to run to the police when all this trouble can be ... " she ran out of words and groped the air for inspiration, " ... this isn't something the police should be called in for. We can settle it, can't we?"
Mr. Wilson hesitated. In his own mind, he was compiling a list of facts that would have to be presented to the police. Bob was at the top of the list but Bob was missing. The only evidence at hand was the two girls. It was his word against theirs that the incident on the fire escape had taken place. Still, there was a slim chance that he might be believed, He was in a quandary. He disliked feeling that he had been made a fool of. He should let the girls go and forget about it, he mused, but he was unwilling to let them go unpunished. If they had been using him as the butt of a joke involving the janitor, they certainly deserved chastisement.
He turned to the window, pulled it down, locked it firmly and tested it to make sure the lock held. He lowered the Venetian blinds and pulled the cord, tilting them so that no one outside could look in. He straightened his tie and made sure the corners of his mouth were pulled severely down before he turned to speak to the girls. "If I did turn this matter over to the police, and you were found guilty, then you would be punished and sent to a place of rehabilitation. Rather than waste the taxpayers' money and time on what might be considered a minor offense--but still a crime--I am quite willing to administer the punishment myself."
Andrea started to speak but Sue cut her off, "Mr. Wilson, I admit we acted like naughty girls, but I can't believe that you would do anything to hurt us."
The old gentleman was firm. "You have your choice. Either submit to me or to the police."
"Oh," sighed Sue, "we'll just have to trust you."
Mr. Wilson went to the door of his bedroom. "Wait here," he instructed and walked out.
Andrea was frantic, "Sue we've got to get out of here. That guy is a nut. Punishment! What kind of punishment?"
"Relax," her friend soothed her. "I'm sort of curious myself."
"If he walks in here with a whip, I'm leaving. I don't care what he says about the police," Andrea was agitated. "I didn't want to sit out there with that damn Bob and now look what you've got us into."
Sue tried to reason with her, "Honey. I keep telling you, you're an actress. It's experience, isn't it? Use it."
"Would you come in here, please?" Mr. Wilson called from the living room. "Leave your clothes in the bedroom and shut off the light. We don't have to keep every light in the house burning."
Sue started to pull off her skirt. Andrea shook her head firmly. "Come on, Andy," Sue urged. "There's two of us to one of him. And he's scrawny." Andrea removed her clothes.
In the living room, Mr. Wilson had switched out all the lights except for one lamp. When the two naked girls walked into the room, they gasped. Mr. Wilson, in a black evening gown, was lolling on the couch, fanning himself with an ancient silk fan. He was naked under the gown--they saw his bony shoulders where the large bodice slipped off. Sue felt relieved. "Tea time," she muttered under her breath to Andrea, but her friend was not so sure. As soon as the girls came in, the man began talking. "Henry has gone to play golf," he said, "and I've taken the opportunity of his absence to ask you girls here." Surprisingly, he in a lower voice than his normal tone. "I can't tell you how embarrassing this is," he continued, "but I feel that as Henry's wife, I must make the attempt. We have been vacationing here on your lovely island for the last month. Every evening at nine, Henry has gone off and not returned until the following morning. He says he has been walking along the savage paths of your beautiful island but I know he has spent those hours with you." Here Mr. Wilson sat up on the couch and had to clutch frantically at the gown to keep it from falling off. "Since we will be here on this island for some time, I must beg you, release my husband from your lurid enchantment. Give him back to me. And if you must have someone, if your art requires a victim, take me instead."
He threw himself from the couch, face forward, at Andrea's feet. Instinctively, Andrea kicked out with her bare foot, catching the man on the side of his face. He grabbed it between his hands and began kissing it. "Oh, I knew you would spurn me," he slobbered. "I knew it would not be easy to convince you, but feel my tears on your skin. They are the tears of a wife. Of one who loves not wisely, but too well." Andrea tried to retract her foot but he licked it. He sucked the toes into his mouth, one at a time, and ran his tongue between them. Then lie lifted the bottom of the foot to his mouth and licked it. No one had ever licked Andrea's foot before. It was weird, almost like having a second tiny cunt in an unexpected place.
He licked up toward her ankle, then licked around the ankle. She felt herself growing warm, Some punishment, she thought. Rapidly he kissed himself up her calf, mumbling into the warm skin that he was debasing himself but anything was worth saving "Henry". He nuzzled the hollow behind her knee, trying to catch it between his teeth. He raised himself on his knees. Grasping her lower thighs, he pulled them together and kissed his way up till she felt his nose nestling in the hairs of her cunt.
Abruptly he stopped, lifted his head as though he heard someone coming. "Henry's here!" he whispered sharply. He stood. "He mustn't find me like this," he said in a voice imitating fear. "Too late!" Without warning, he rose and slapped Andrea twice, hard across the face. She screamed and clawed at him. He tried to restrain her. She fought back. He stumbled in the gown and fell to the floor, bringing her with him. Worried, Sue stopped to help Andrea, but Mr. Wilson pushed her off, and managed to rise to his feet. He hoisted the gown onto his shoulders and spoke to the empty air in front of him.
"Yes, Henry, you see the abyss to which your vices have led me. But there is no depth to which I will not stoop to save you." Then he spoke in his normal voice. "Agatha," he said calmly. "You had no right."
The two girls watched him, astounded. Sue twirled a finger around her ear. "Loco," she mouthed. Andrea mouthed back at her, "Let's get out of here." Sue pointed to each of them, indicating that they weren't dressed.
Mr. Wilson removed the gown. Underneath it, he had been wearing a pair of boxer undershorts. He held out the garment to Sue. "Put this on," he ordered. She rose from the floor, examining him as she walked toward him. He was tall, but very thin. She could see his ribs. His chest was hairless except for a few sprouts around his nipples. She took the gown from him and slipped into it. She turned so that he could zipper it up, but she was too large. The zipper wouldn't move.
"You've been putting on weight, Agatha," he sneered scornfully. "But we'll talk about that later. I've warned you about sticking your nose in my business. Now it's time to teach you a lesson." He sat on the couch and pulled her face down onto his lap. "This is nothing less than you deserve, Agatha," he warned and pounded her ass through the stiff material of the dress. She squirmed under his blows--she felt her ass cheeks growing hot. As she wiggled on his lap, the material in the dress rubbed her cunt. The stimulation from both sides--one painful, the other strangely pleasurable--began to excite her. He lifted the material, exposing her reddened ass to the room. "Have you learned your lesson yet, Agatha?" he demanded. Sliding out from underneath her, he left her face down on the couch. He kneeled alongside her and slobbered onto her buttocks. His saliva on her fiery ass caused her juices to start flowing. She felt the material of the dress beneath her moisten. Mr. Wilson sucked the flesh of her ass. "You're my wife, Agatha," he mumbled between sucks. "I do this to teach you your place." He leaned over the crack of her ass and sucked it. She felt his tongue slide out and press between her buttocks. She thrust her ass into his face. He giggled, "You like your punishment, Agatha." He pushed her legs aside and licked under her ass trying to penetrate her cunt from underneath. He couldn't get at it--he pushed her up onto her knees, raising her ass into the air exposing both holes to his attack simultaneously. He rose and pulled off his shorts. Resting on her cheek on the couch, Sue looked back and gasped. She exchanged an amazed look with Andrea who had also not failed to notice the enormous erection that leaped into view. Extending from Mr. Wilson's meager frame was a cock that was thicker and longer than Tim's. Its broad head was already secreting its lubricating juices.
He crawled onto the couch and crouched behind her. "Dorothy," he called to Andrea ... "My wife wishes to apologize for treating you so badly this afternoon. Come here. I want you to help me administer her punishment." Andrea came to stand near the couch. Mr. Wilson directed her to straddle Sue's back and hold the cheeks of her ass apart with her hand. When Andrea had arranged herself as he specified, he took his enormous erection in one hand and pushed the head against the little brown opening of Sue's ass. Sue stifled a scream in her throat. "Did you say something, Agatha?" he asked absent-mindedly. He smiled at Andrea, "I need your help, Dorothy, my dear." He half-rose, bringing his extended cock to her mouth. "Will you assist me?" He shoved the head of his cock against her lips. She squeezed on him as he entered. "That feels so good," he murmured, making tiny, imperceptible thrusts in her mouth, "but no time to waste, I fear." He withdrew slowly and crouched again at Sue's ass. He slid his cock against her tiny-opening. "More spread, Dorothy," he instructed Andrea. The girl gripped her friend's ass at the opening of the hole and tried to stretch it with her ringers. Mr. Wilson lunged. Sue buried her head in the couch cushions. Andrea saw the tip of his head gripped in the tiny hole. "Not bad," he commented, shoving forward once more. This time Andrea saw the entire head slide in. "We can do better than that," the old man insisted, inching the shaft forward into the resistant hole. As he pushed forward, Andrea heard a slight squeak as the dry portion of his shaft caused friction between it and the aching sphincter. Sue felt him ramming up into her bowels until she thought she was going to burst. She squirmed, trying to force him out, but each movement only succeeded in drawing him deeper into her. She bit the sofa cushions and moaned, hoping his huge cock would not cause her any permanent damage.
"That's much better," he sounded satisfied. "That's much better," he repeated thickly. "Now Dorothy," he spoke to Andrea, a dreamy look in his eyes as he rotated his cock in her friend's ass, "press those buttocks firmly together."
"Oh yes," he moaned, as Andrea tried to squeeze Sue's buttocks against his cock. "Tighter. Tighter," he ordered. He reached under him and unlocked Sue's knees. She slid down flat onto the couch, his cock still penetrating her ass, giving Andrea more flesh to work with. Andrea crouched over Sue's back and worked her friend's buttocks against the old man's erection. He thrust and bucked into Sue. His hands closed over Andrea's, urging her to tighter squeezing.
Beneath him, Sue began to relax. The feel of a man up her ass had increased the flow of her juices. She slid a hand down to her cunt. The gown was too long and she couldn't get under it so she began to rub herself through the silky material which was already quite wet. As she strained her cunt against her hand, her sphincter retracted and Mr. Wilson grunted in renewed excitement as the muscle clamped against his prick.
"Kiss me, Dorothy," he commanded, thrusting his face at Andrea. His mouth groped eagerly for her tongue. He drew it into his mouth and sucked on it, in time to the thrusting in the other girl's ass. Beneath them Sue was pushing the material into her cunt, trying frantically to reach her clitoris. She was stifling in the heavy gown that trapped the heat her body was building up--but she was helpless to move out of it. She longed for the feeling of a cock in her cunt. Suddenly she let out a wild shriek--she felt a tearing sensation shoot through her--Mr. Wilson had unexpectedly withdrawn his cock. Sue heard a muffled gasp of surprise from Andrea. Through glazed eyes, she looked backward over her shoulder to see that Mr. Wilson had risen over her friend and was forcing his cock down her throat.
Andrea was unprepared for the surprise attack, Mr. Wilson had been sucking fervently on her tongue when suddenly he released it. The next thing she knew, he had his cock in her mouth. She tried to pull away but he made her take it in. She gagged--he was coming--a thick flow of his come shot down her throat. He tightened his grip on her head and she was forced to swallow it. He spasmed for several seconds in her throat and at last he released her. She fell back onto the arm of the sofa, coughing angrily. Sue groggily lifted her head in time to avoid being sat on by her friend. Mr. Wilson leaned against the opposite arm of the couch with his eyes closed. Sue pulled herself off the couch and shed the heavy evening gown. She looked around for somewhere to hang it when she noticed that Mr. Wilson was staring at her.
He smiled queerly, "Well, Agatha," he murmured, "Quite enough punishment for one evening, eh?"
Chapter 15
After the audition, Andrea met a wide-eyed Gerald Scott in the waiting room of the hall. He rose as she approached him. She noticed he was looking at her peculiarly. "Anything wrong?" she asked.
He blurted out, "Did they make you take your clothes off?"
She felt he was attacking her. Instead of answering him directly, she evaded the question. "What gives you that idea?" He told her that while he had been waiting for her to come out, he'd heard people talking about the "flesh parade" inside.
Andrea's blood began to boil. Flesh parade! That about summed it up. She'd expected to audition for a serious production that featured some nudity, Siri Cohen, the author who had recommended her, was reputed to be an author with some integrity who cared about her work. Instead, the audition resembled a huge cattle call--the director, the producer, and their friends looked on as though they were at an auction and made lewd comments about the choice flesh they were inspecting, Andrea was seething and took it out on Gerald. "What's wrong with nudity? Am I supposed to be ashamed? I've got nothing to hide."
He tried to calm her down. "I didn't say anything like that. I just asked."
The girl went on vehemently. "There's nothing wrong with the naked body. If a few, dirty-minded people think there is and I take off my clothes and they get excited, well, that's their problem, not mine." They started down the stairs to the street.
"Do you go to a lot of these things?" he asked.
"Twice a day. Once in the morning. Once in the afternoon."
"No. Seriously." He tried to mollify her. "I don't thing it's wrong, honestly, I don't. I was just curious."
Andrea wanted to change the subject. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. Let's just forget about it--it was a lousy audition and I don't want to talk about it."
He stepped ahead to open the street door for her. "Oh, of course. Whatever you say."
Andrea was tired and disgusted. She wanted to sit in some nice, air-conditioned restaurant have a slow, leisurely meal--and not have to talk about anything or answer any questions. She turned around to watch him come out the door behind her. She was being unfair to him, she thought. After all, it wasn't his fault that she'd had a lousy audition. It was even less his fault that she was feeling generally depressed. Give the guy a chance, she told herself. Out loud; she asked, "Where are we going to eat?"
"I have to make a call first," he said apologetically. "I hope you don't mind." He pointed down the street, "There's a phone booth." Andrea guessed that it would probably be out of order or vandalized, but she was wrong. He stepped in and grinned at her, "I'll make it a quick call," then shut himself in. Andrea wondered whether he was phoning a restaurant for a reservation. She was going to tap on the booth and tell him not to bother but she stopped herself, "Hell, why not? I deserve it."
Gerald finished his call. He came out of the booth, took her by the shoulders and kissed her lips lightly. "Hungry?" he asked. She smiled. "Did I sound it? I didn't mean to take everything out on you." He kissed her again. "Forget it. Let's see if we can find a taxi."
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Look," he said with a half-apologetic shrug, "I hope you don't mind. I've got to pick up something at a friend's place. It won't take a minute." The friend lived in the West Village. They weren't far and Andrea suggested they walk but Gerald insisted a cab would be faster. However, all the taxis seemed to be going off duty at that hour so they had to walk.
Gerald's friend lived in an unrestored three-story building. The windows of the first two floors were completely empty and when Andrea asked whether anyone lived there, Gerald explained that his friend was the only tenant in the building, a hold-out against the landlord who wanted to renovate and raise the rents. His friend felt he could get a larger sum than he landlord was offering if he refused to move. Andrea smiled. "Everyone I know this month has a deal cooking with a landlord."
He looked puzzled but she didn't volunteer to explain. Inside, the hallway walls were a combination of peeling wallpaper and cracked plaster. A three-armed chandelier held a single light bulb which threw a dim light into the hall. There was a faint, sour smell. "How long has this place been empty?" she asked Gerald. He explained that some bums had discovered the place and used it until the owner learned they were there and had the police throw them out.
The stairs were narrow and slanted. Andrea had the sensation of having to climb on the sides of her feet. There was no light on the second floor--the hall was dark. Gerald had climbed ahead. When Andrea arrived on the landing and found she couldn't see, she cried out involuntarily. She heard the floor squeak as he came back to her.
"Scared?" he asked.
"Is it safe?"
"I'll hold you."
"Are you sure there aren't any holes in the floor?"
He reached for her hand, took her around the waist and pulled her to him. He tried to force her mouth open with his tongue. "Not here," she protested. He ran his hand up under her dress. She heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Don't you wear underwear?"
"Bikini panties, Gerry, Now, take your hands out." She squirmed away from -him. His hands slid up under her panties and dug into her hips. "Don't you like it?" he asked. "Not when I can't see," she answered. "Now cut it out."
Out of the dark, a voice called from above, "Gerry, is that you?"
"Mike?" Gerald called back.
A flashlight beam stabbed down from the floor above. "Can't you see?" the voice asked again.
Gerald released Andrea. "We're coming," he shouted. He pushed Andrea ahead of him. "You go first," he instructed. As she started up the steps to the third floor, the flashlight beam hit her in the eye. She blinked and put her hand in front of her face to block it out.
"Would you aim that a little lower?" she asked. But Gerald's friend kept the beam aimed at her eyes as she mounted the steps. When she arrived on the floor, she reached out to grab the light from him but he backed away, aiming the beam toward a door at the end of the hall. "Through there," he directed. She turned to see if Gerald was following. He was right behind her. Taking her by the arm, he steered her down the hall and into the apartment.
They entered a combination kitchen-living room. Two windows faced the entrance, each open about a foot from the top and a foot from the bottom, the remainder covered with heavy black cloths. A kitchen table, standing between the two windows, was covered with empty tin cans. The sink, to the left of the table, was loaded with more cans and dirty dishes. The walls and floor were filthy. Adding to the general discomfort of the apartment was the lack of air--the apartment was stifling. "Isn't there any cross-ventilation?" she asked Gerald.
Behind her the door to the apartment slammed shut. "Hotter than a witch's cunt," a surly voice rasped. There was the slap of bare feet on the floor and Gerald's friend came into the room. "But you know all about that, I guess." He pushed by her and dropped his flashlight on the table. In the dim light, Andrea saw his bare shoulders gleam in the room. Without thinking, she glanced down to take in the rest of him. He was completely naked. She was startled but only for a moment. She thought to herself ironically, by now I ought to know what an exhibitionist looks like.
Gerald made the introductions. "Andrea, this is my friend, Mike." Mike turned at the table and propped himself insinuatingly against it, his pelvis thrust forward into the room. His back was to the windows and to the light--she couldn't see him distinctly. She was able to observe him looking her up and down appraisingly. Insolently, with a casual gesture, Mike reached a finger down to scratch his balls, and then extended his hand to her, "Hi, Andrea."
She pretended not to see it, but looked around the room. "Aren't there any more windows?" she asked. "There's just this room and that," Mike answered pointing. The other room was a tiny bedroom separated from the kitchen by an arch. There was no light on but she could see the outline of a bed.
"Nice place you've got," she said automatically.
"If you're hot, take your clothes off," he offered.
"I don't think we're staying long," she looked at Gerald. He didn't say anything. Andrea began to feel that something was going on--she didn't know what it was, but it made her uncomfortable. Why doesn't he take what he came to pick up and get us the hell out of here, she wondered.
She continued to look at Gerald. He kept silent. Mike stared at them both amusedly. The heat in the room was really deadly, Andrea's hair clung wetly to her neck. She brushed it off. The silence continued. She shot a swift glance at Mike--he met her glance and he had stopped smiling. Andrea thought to herself, well, I don't know what this scene is, but I don't need it. She started to the door.
"Gerry, I'll wait for you downstairs." She turned the knob. The door was locked. She reached up to turn the lock but the lock was made to be operated by a key. "Can I have the key?" she asked.
"Sure," Mike said. "Come and get it."
"Where is it?"
"I shoved it up my ass."
Andrea whirled around to face the room. She saw a light switch on the wall near the door and pushed it up. A feeble overhead light clicked on, not much illumination but enough to light Mike from the front and take him out of silhouette. He was medium height with dark, short hair--stocky, with a barrel chest and solid, heavy arms and legs.
"Hey! I thought they turned that off." He sounded genuinely surprised.
"Would you open this door?" Andrea repeated. He ignored the request. "Gerry tells me you run around naked on the stage, is that right?" he asked her.
"Come and see." She jiggled the door, it was no use she was definitely locked in.
"How about a sample?" Mike asked.
"A sample of what?"
"I hear you also put out in banks. How's about a sample of them both? What you put out in banks and what you put out on the stage."
Andrea had to catch her breath. Her heart had started pounding faster and her legs were trembling. It was pretty clear now what was going on. She wasn't afraid of being raped--she just wasn't in the mood for it. It was hot, the apartment was filthy, and as far as she knew, Mike might be some sort of a nut for whom rape was only the prelude to something much rougher. She appealed to Gerald.
"I thought you were taking me for dinner, Gerry. You didn't tell me you were bringing me up here to show me off."
As though he could read her thoughts, Gerald answered simply, "Mike isn't going to hurt you. He just wants to get laid."
She lost her temper, "Not with me he doesn't."
Mike crossed the room swiftly and pinned her against the door. "Why not with you?" he asked through clenched teeth. She tried to push past him but he blocked her way. "Why not with you? I hear you're a pretty hot number. Do you mind who gets a piece of the action?" She could feel the heat rising from his body. She tried to make her voice steady and hard, "Let me out of here or I'm going to scream." Some hard slaps across the face were the immediate answer. "Scream." he threatened. "No one will hear you. Scream and while you're screaming, I'll be knocking your teeth down your throat."
He grabbed her hands suddenly and thrust them down to his groin, forcing his aroused cock into her hands. "You scream," he went on, "you try to scream with that socking your throat." He leaned forward to kiss her but she spat in his face. He brought his hands up to her head, grabbed each side and began pounding the back of her head into the door, repeating, "Oh yeah? Oh yeah?" She raked his back with her nails. He took her, still by the head, turned her into the room and sent her hurtling to the floor. She tried to break her fall with her hands but landed painfully on her shoulder.
Rising, she looked around for Gerald. "Gerry?" she asked pleadingly. Looking up she saw he had gone into the little bedroom and was removing his clothes. Mike padded toward her and lifted her to her feet.
"That's a good idea," he said, indicating Gerald. "If you want to have a dress tonight to go home in, you'd better do the same." He pushed her toward the bedroom. From the darkened room, Gerald walked toward her holding out a hanger. Despite herself, she began to laugh. It was too much. He had brought her here, set up this situation so that his friend could rape her and now he was bringing her a hanger so she wouldn't muss her clothes. It was funny.
Mike dug his fingers into her shoulder. "You want something to laugh about?" he threatened. She grabbed the hanger from Gerry and hit Mike across the hand with it. "Take it easy," she said smoothly. "You'll get what you're after. I know you're a big, tough guy, but I don't think you're going to have much fun if I'm out cold." She turned her back to Gerald and asked him to pull down her zipper. She slid out of her dress. She didn't wear a bra, and Mike made a grab for her breasts when she went to hook the hanger onto the bathroom door. He grabbed her from behind and kneaded her breasts in his palms. She spread her legs slightly and his hard cock slid between them. He grunted and rolled her nipples in his fingers. Gerald came around in front of her, kneeled and started to pull her panties down over her hips. They caught on Mike's cock. He had to withdraw his prick from between her legs and Gerald pulled the panties off. Andrea stepped out of them, reached behind her, grabbed Mike by the hips and shoved him hard against her again. Her back and his chest were perspiring as they undulated against each other. He released her breasts. Taking her under the arms, he pushed her forward so that she was bending at the waist. As her head flopped forward, her mouth fell on Gerald's head. He was still leaning in front of her. He looked up and their mouths met. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. Behind her, she felt Mike straining to enter her cunt from the rear. He probed with his hand, rubbing her cunt lips with his thick fingers. Gerald, still kissing her, began tweaking her nipples as her breasts swung at either side of his face.
Abruptly, she was yanked up. Mike had grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward him. He brought his mouth heavily down on hers, alternately sucking and biting her lips. With one hand he grabbed her two hands and forced them behind her ass, pushing her pelvis into his erection. With his other hand, he fondled her breasts--rubbing and squeezing until he felt the nipples firm and erect beneath his fingers. When he released her breasts, he dropped his hands to her thick, wet mound. He raised his cock and rubbed the underside slowly through her hairs. She looked down and saw his cock weaving in and out of her curling hairs and ground her pelvis against it. He squatted slightly, bringing the tip of his erection to the opening of her cunt. He lunged and pushed into her with a soft cry. Her warm vagina enclosed his aching cock. For seconds, they stood--neither moving, each feeling the heat of the other pass between them. Then Mike was unable to keep still any more and began moving slowly back and forth inside her. Their mouths came together and their tongues fought. Her pelvis matched his movements--pulling back as he withdrew, sliding forward on his prick as it moved into her. Instinctively, they wanted to quicken their movements, but at the same time, the great sensation flowing out from their centers to the extremities of their bodies made them maintain the slow, steady motion they had begun with. Mike felt the tension built up in the base of his cock. He buried his head in her neck, choking with the lack of air, yet forcing himself to breathe in the odor of her sex. He felt her toes caress his legs, nipping them thickly, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out.
Gerald came up behind Andrea and began tugging at her, trying to lift her away from Mike. She shook her head and rammed herself harder against his friend's cock. Gerald managed to squeeze his hand between them and tried to push them apart. Mike shot out at Gerald with his fist. Gerald ducked and grabbed Mike around the waist--with a loud, sucking sound, Mike fell out of Andrea. He grabbed Gerry by the shoulders and shoved him to the floor, but was himself grabbed and knocked to the floor by his indignant friend who cried, "What about me? I brought her here."
Andrea felt unsteady on her feet and looked around for somewhere to sit. The only place was the bed in the little bedroom. It was even more stifling than the kitchen but the bed was low on the floor and she thought it might be a little cooler. She stretched out on her back. The heat and the uncompleted fucking made her head spin. Suddenly, the two men were in the dark room with her. She felt a weight on her chest. Two hands forced her mouth open and a cock-she didn't know whose--was shoved down her mouth. She began choking, trying to force it out. It withdrew slightly, then slowly forced its way down her throat. At the same time, a cock slid into her cunt and with no more preparation, wildly thrust in and out. She gripped the cock in her mouth and sucked on it. She felt the heat from the buttocks radiate into her breasts and soon the wet, hairy ass was sliding over her chest. She felt it lift slightly to ram the cock farther down her throat. At the same time, she felt herself coming and raised her pelvis so that the cock in her cunt could thrust in deeper. She grabbed the ass over her chest and dug a forefinger into the tight hole. She heard a yelp and the cock in her mouth stiffened. Cruelly, she shoved her finger up the ass as far as it would go and was rewarded with a spurt of come down her throat as the cock in her mouth jerked itself toward orgasm, Still climaxing herself, she rocked her finger in the unknown ass in time to the rhythm of the prick in her cunt, making it go faster and deeper as the one below bucked to ejaculation. The cock in her mouth started to slip out but she gripped it tightly-sucking and licking it until it began to stiffen then she let it go. She felt the weight on her chest lighten. The cock in her cunt slipped out. Almost immediately, she felt the other one thrust in. She heard some whispered conversation in the dark but she couldn't catch the words. The bed sagged as weight shifted. She felt something hot over her face. Inhaling, she caught the heavy smell of ass--one of the guys was squatting over her face. A limp prick fell against her mouth. She drew it in and sucked on it until it was hard--then it was pulled out. The weight shifted again. The cock in her cunt had been moving lightly in and out, just enough to keep it hard. Then she was pulled onto her side. She felt a body stretch the length of her back, a finger probed her asshole. Andrea jerked away but strong arms gripped her against a furry chest. There was a quick, sharp pain--the other cock was penetrating her ass. She tried to protest, but a hand clamped her mouth shut and the cock in her cunt began fucking her. Slowly, the cock in her ass inched forward. After a while, the pain stopped and there was just a tight, squeezing sensation. Then the prick in her ass started its fucking motions. The sensation of the two cocks cleaving her flesh drove Andrea into a frenzy. She pushed the palm of the hand gripping her mouth away and reached for a mouth. Finding one, she bit into it, hearing the recipient moan in pain. She thrust against the cock in her cunt and on the withdrawal, thrust against the cock in her ass. Each movement was a simultaneous thrust and withdrawal. She felt herself losing control--feeling only the two rigid lengths in her and the heat of the two bodies enclosing her. Driven to frenzy by the heat and the movement, Andrea felt her climax burst inside her and with it, uncontrollably, she broke into tears.
Chapter 16
Later, seated in the large dining room of an Italian restaurant on Sixth Avenue, wolfing down a large antipasto, Andrea surprised herself by breaking out into unexpected laughter. Across the table, Mike looked up, baffled and hostile and demanded to know what was so funny. Still laughing, she quickly buttered a piece of bread and threw it at him. "Food for thought," she taunted. The buttered piece hit Mike in the forehead then fell off into his lap. He retrieved it and angrily slammed it down on the table. Gerald picked it up and set it on the edge of the table, saying, with a look at Andrea, "All right, you two."
"I'm sorry my table manners disturb you," Andrea said, not trying to sound sincere. She looked around for the waitress. "Where's my veal cacciatore? I'm starving."
"You haven't finished your antipasto," Gerald pointed out, Andrea made a face.
"I ate everything except the lettuce and the anchovy." She picked up the anchovy between her thumb and first finger and offered it to him. "Do you like anchovy?"
"No thank you."
"Mike?"
"Shove it."
Andrea dropped the anchovy on the plate. She was having a marvelous time.
After the attempted rape that evening, she had managed to find a fairly clean pot in Mike's apartment and used it to boil some water in. Mike had been surprised to find the gas still connected. Andrea managed to wash what was essential and put herself in as good order as she had been when she first arrived. As she was zipping up her dress, Mike stumbled out, mumbling that he would unlock the door for her. She ignored him and went into the bedroom where she confronted Gerry. She told him that she'd expected to be taken to dinner and she still expected it. Maybe he wasn't hungry but she was starving. She told him to get dressed and find a place where they could eat. He was so surprised that he obeyed her. Mike realized that he was hungry too and decided to go along.
They found a large, air-conditioned Italian restaurant on Sixth Avenue and a dim, candle-lit table in the corner. Andrea ordered herself a four-course meal--she didn't intend to finish everything she ordered, but to hell with him, she thought. He can afford it and the bastard deserves to pay. There was no conversation during the meal. Mike only opened his mouth to point out how much she was eating and it was clear that Gerald wished he were somewhere else. Andrea didn't care. Finally, the veal cacciatore arrived, and Mike muttered, "Christ, how much can she eat?" It was a large portion, and Andrea estimated she'd reach her limit after about two or three bites. Her vengeance was wearing thin and she decided to leave the two men with a souvenir that would be hard to forget.
"You're too tense, Mike," she said. "I thought you would have gotten all your rocks off by now."
"You're a lousy lay," he answered.
"That makes me feel bad," she said. Under the table she slipped off her shoe and smiled to watch him jump as her bare foot landed in his lap.
"Hey," he protested.
"Let me make it up to you, Mike," she said. "Let me help you relax."
He shifted his weight, but her foot remained firmly in his lap. Gerald glanced over and saw what she was doing.
"Cut it out," he ordered, and looked nervously around the room.
"No one can see us, Gerry," she said confidently. "We're stuck in this corner. You're on the end. No one can see what I'm doing to Mike." She smiled--Mike hadn't put on any underwear and his cock was rising under her foot. "Mike's not about to say no, are you, baby?" She began to massage his prick with the sole of her foot.
"I said cut it out!" Gerald commanded again. Andrea leaned forward and blew out the candle.
"We don't need the extra heat," she explained. They were lit only by the glow reflected from the walls of the other candles in the room. "Better unzip," she suggested to Mike. "You don't want to rip the material and have nothing to go home in."
She lifted a mouthful of the veal to her mouth. It was delicious. Too bad, she thought. She wouldn't be able to eat it all. She'd have to come here again. As she ate, she continued to excite Mike's cock through his pants. Finally, he gave in. Scrutinizing the room to be sure that their corner was unobserved, he reached below the table and unzipped his pants. Even in the bad light, Andrea could see Gerald's face change color.
"Cut it out," he said urgently.
"I still have an extra foot," Andrea suggested.
Mike's stiff cock was stuck beneath the opening of his pants. He unsnapped the top button and slid the pants down over his hips. His cock sprang out, hard against Andrea's foot.
"You're as graceful as an elephant," she told him, rolling his erection between her big toe and the one next to it. He slouched back in his seat. "Move in a little closer," she suggested. He pulled his chair in. She kicked off her other shoe and squeezed Mike's cock between her soles. He began to breathe heavier and grabbed the sides of his chair with both hands to steady himself. She alternated the squeezing motion with a steady up and down movement. Gerald had given up trying to stop them and was attempting to continue his dinner as though nothing was happening. Andrea watched Mike delightedly. He was unable to express his excitement in any open way--his teeth were clenched to keep him from crying out and he had to bite his mouth to stifle the little cries he couldn't help making. His cock rotating between her sensitive soles felt very good and she moved forward to the edge of her chair to get a firmer grip on his erection. She was so intent on watching his reaction that she jumped when a fluty voice asked, "Is everything all right?"
Andrea glanced up. A willowy young man, carrying a stack of menus, was standing over the table. Simpering down at them, he seemed disjointed and Andrea realized that was because his torso was bent at an angle to his legs and his head was bent at another angle to his torso, tilted toward them in a feminine manner designed to suggest solicitous good will. Gerald was in the middle of chewing--he swallowed quickly and answered in a quiet, strained voice.
"Everything is fine, thank you." Andrea smiled up at the waiter who looked at Mike for further confirmation. Mike, still trying to control his writhings under Andrea's foot, looked up with glazed eyes and murmured, "Mmm hmm."
"Your candle's gone out," the waiter observed, reaching for a package of matches in his pocket. "Would you like me ... "
Gerald stopped him. "Everything is fine. Thank you." The young man smiled at each of them in turn, then backed away and minced through the room to the other tables.
"You'd better stop," Gerald insisted'. Andrea could feel Mike's cock thrusting through her feet. He was nearly ready to come. Abruptly she released him.
"You're right," she agreed with Gerald. "I'd better stop. I don't want to get my feet wet."
"Don't stop now!" Mike breathed unevenly, reaching under the table for her feet.
"Sorry, Mike, I've got to go." She groped for her shoes and slipped into them. "I can't eat another thing. I'm stuffed." She stood. "Cancel the rest of my order, will you, Gerry?" He started to stand. "Don't bother."
"Where are you going?"
"I'll send you a postcard. Thanks for a lovely time."
"You bitch!" Mike hissed at her. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he indicated his erection.
"Oh, poor Mike," she said sympathetically. I know--I'll send over our waiter. He'll take care of you." She picked up her purse and left the table. At the door to the dining room, she bumped into the waiter and told him that the two men at her table wanted to speak to him.
"Are you leaving?" he cooed at her.
She was sure the glitter in his eyes was not all candlelight. "I have a dinner engagement," she smiled and walked out, not waiting to see what would happen at the table when he sashayed over to offer his services.
On the street, the air was stifling. There was a subway at the corner but Andrea decided to walk to the East Side and take a bus uptown.
And that, she told herself as she walked, is the Gerald Scott story. The End. That's who I was depending on to show me a better life. Bullshit! I guess there is no such thing. Why don't I face facts? I like sex--with one, with two, with an army. That's the way I am. This guilt I have exists because I feel I should have it--not because I really do. And that, she concluded, is what's been making me feel bad. Absolute idiocy.
She stopped, attracted by a window display of ladies' underwear. Among the more traditional items were several decidedly progressive numbers--see-through undies and peek-a-boo nipple bras. She smiled ruefully. Everybody's doing it, she assured herself. Guilt is out. Sham is out. So grin and bear it. She thought about drooling Bob-bare it.
Chapter 17
Two nights later, Bob sat on the couch in the girls' living room watching Andrea, Sue, and Tim on a large sheet which had been spread to cover the floor. "Practice makes perfect, Bob," Andrea said insinuatingly. Lewdly, with practiced ease, she slipped her thumb and forefinger between her cunt lips and spread them invitingly. "You'll never know unless you try." Bob wiped the sweat off his forehead and shook his head negatively. "Not yet," he insisted. "You and Tim again. It wasn't really fucking before--he only He turned to the naked stud leaning "Your dick's hard. I see it's hard. Screw her."
"Hold it." Sue stepped forward. "Maybe he's got something against brunettes. You know what they say about gentlemen preferring blondes." She imitated Andrea and slipped a thumb and forefinger between the lips of her cunt. "What do you say, Bob? Do you like me better than Andy?" Bob didn't know where to look first. He squealed and looked at the two girls spreading their cunts for his inspection. Slowly they walked toward him, undulating their hips as they came. He reared up on the couch. "Not yet," he implored. "Not yet. I'm not ready. Let Tim fuck you."
"We've had Tim," Sue murmured. "It's you we want now." The girls turned to face each other. "We're both ready for you," Andrea said, "Which one will it be?" the blonde asked. They removed their hands from their own cunts and slid the fingers into each other's. They probed with their fingers, circled the lips, then teased each other's clitoris. "She's all ready," Sue said, removing her fingers and holding them up, wet and glistening, in the air. Tim walked forward and drew Sue's fingers into his mouth--sucking and licking them dry of Andrea's juices. At the same time, Andrea continued her manipulations in Sue. The blonde faced Bob with a smile. "It's so good, Bob. So good. Come on in. You've never had anything like it." Andrea withdrew her fingers from her friend's cunt. "Now she's all ready," she announced. Tim dropped Sue's hand and reached for Andrea's--drawing the fingers into his mouth and licking them free of Sue's juices.
"Which one will it be, Bob? Me or Sue?"
"I'm not ready," the janitor protested. "Take your hands off your cock," Tim snapped. He had been watching Bob carefully. Sue backed him up, "You know what we told you about playing with yourself, Bob."
"I've gotta," the janitor pleaded.
"Why do you have to play with yourself?" Andrea demanded. "That's why we're here. We want you to play with us. You play with us and well play with you."
Bob shook his head vehemently. "No, no," he protested. "I can't."
"You can. You know you want to," Andrea insisted. "We see you want to. Why don't you?"
Bob continued to shake his head negatively, mumbling that he couldn't. He ordered Tim to fuck Andrea. "Let's make it a foursome, old buddy," Tim suggested, "I'll slip it to her and you get your rocks off in Sue here."
Bob stubbornly refused. "I'll watch. I'm not ready yet."
"Oh, screw," Sue protested. "I don't want to sit here holding his hands watching while you two fuck."
"If somebody doesn't hold his hands," Andrea pointed out, "he'll jerk himself off and then he'll be no good to anybody."
Bob promised that he would keep his hands off himself but the three laughed him down. They refused to trust him.
"Got any cord?" Tim asked. "We'll tie his hands behind his back."
"In the kitchen," Sue rushed off.
"You can't tie my hands behind my back," Bob was definite.
"Either your hands behind your back or quits for tonight. And any other night," Tim warned.
"Is that all you'll do?"
Sue returned with a ball of twine and a pair of scissors. "How much do you need?" she asked.
Tim took them from her. "I'll do it."
Bob repeated, "Is that all you're going to do?"
"How do you mean?"
"You'll just tie my hands behind my back. That's all. You won't try to touch me--anywhere else--?"
"Oh, that lily-white body. Let me get my hands on it, yum yum," Sue answered, smacking her lips and rubbing her hands together in an imitation of lust.
"I'm serious," the janitor insisted. "You can touch me when I'm ready. Not before."
Tim held out a length of twine.
"That was the agreement," Bob said pleadingly.
"Put your hands behind your back," Tim ordered.
"Do you promise?" Bob asked.
"I promise," Tim said disgustedly.
"All of you. I want all of you to promise," the janitor said seriously.
"We promise," the girls echoed. "No touchee. No washee," Sue added. "Champ."
Bob rose, holding his hands behind his back. Tim swiftly tied them, effectively preventing the janitor from any means of self-gratification. Bob sat on the couch.
"And keep your legs apart," Sue warned.
She, Tim, and Andrea stepped to the center of the white sheet and huddled for a conference. Bob watched in eager anticipation. Sue stepped out of the huddle, protesting angrily, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
Tim reached out an arm and drew her back. The whispered Conference continued for a few seconds then they broke. Tim lay down on his side on the floor, facing Bob. Andrea stretched lengthwise along him, her mouth to his genitals and her back to Bob. For a few minutes, Bob could see nothing but he heard the slurp of their mouths as each sucked the other's genitals. Then, with a swift motion, Tim pushed Andrea's legs very far apart, removed his mouth from her cunt and posed over her ass until he was sure Bob was paying attention. Andrea bent her legs around Tim's neck, increasing the spread of her cheeks so that Bob saw the opening of her tight asshole. He saw Tim open his mouth and lower his head to it. Bob gave a little gasp as Andrea tried to push the minuscule opening over her boyfriend's mouth. At the asshole, Tim licked around the opening and Andrea squirmed against his tongue trying to make him enter. He eluded her, and skittered down the ridge toward her cunt, then back up to the tip of the hole. He licked around it again, then licked up the ridge toward her spine and back down to the asshole opening. This time he licked directly over the hole itself. Andrea bent her knees urgently, trying to widen the opening. Tim withdrew his tongue and touched the hole with his lips, making little kissing motions against it. Bob saw Andrea's ass quiver as she tried to force Tim to push into the little hole. Tim teased her and continued to kiss and rub it with his mouth for a few seconds. He held his head back so Bob could see him slide out his tongue again. This time, be began to probe the tight asshole with the tip of his tongue.
Bob heard Andrea groan as the tip slid between the grasping sphincter muscles, "Shove it all the way in," he screeched, hoping that Tim would slide the widest part of his tongue up Andrea's ass.
Tim shifted his weight, rolling onto his side so that his back was to Bob. Andrea, except for her head, was hidden from Bob's view. After the change of position, Bob was able to see that Andrea had not been sucking Tim's cock as he thought--she had been probing his asshole with her tongue. Bob watched, fascinated, as her dark head pressed between the blond cheeks, glinting with short golden hairs. He heard the muffled moans of delight each made against the other's asshole. His cock was bulging against his pants. Bob wanted to reach into his trousers and jerk himself to the heights of excitement--but his hands were tightly tied behind his back. Tim had done a good job.
Surreptitiously, he attempted to rub his legs together but Sue appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and pushed his legs apart. "Not until you're ready," she warned. Then she went to kneel alongside Andrea's head. She tapped the other girl lightly--Andrea lifted her head and Sue bent hers to Tim's asshole. It was wet from Andrea's sucking and Sue's tongue slid easily into the opening and made it moist with her saliva. Inside, she bent the tip of her tongue, trying to touch the sides of the canal. The sphincter tightened excitedly around her tongue. Andrea had drawn back her head and started to suck on Tim's cock. Sue held her tongue still for a while and let the sphincter muscle do its own work--on each release it was easier for her to slide her tongue deeper into his ass. Tim--feeling the double thrill of a mouth on his cock and one up his ass--reached behind him and groped for Sue's cunt. Sue stretched out behind him and felt his fingers slide eagerly toward her erect clitoris. Tim's expert fingers tweaked and twisted the sensitive tip until Sue was squirming with delight. Still he didn't let up. She felt like a double-headed faucet, dripping at both ends--the juices from her cunt on his fingers, down her thigh and onto the sheet, and the saliva from her mouth drooling into his asshole. Andrea felt Tim's cock rigid with excitement, seeping a steady flow of his secretions onto her tongue. She mixed it with her saliva as she rolled her tongue around the shaft of his cock. Stiff as it was, she felt it become even more rigid and she rode her mouth swiftly up and down over it. It began to quiver and spurt--she held it between her teeth, continuing the rapid up-and-down motion, and swallowed his come. At his asshole. Sue felt her tongue gripped tightly by Tim's sphincter muscle. As Tim came, he was overcome by a sensation so powerful, he had to stop moving and concentrate on the spasmodic jerking of his cock, As soon as the sensation subsided, however, he redoubled his efforts--tonguing and sucking Andrea's cunt until he felt her muscles contracting against his mouth.
On the couch, Bob was aching to enclose his erect cock in his hands. He had broken his promise to keep his legs still and was rubbing his thighs against his prick but the cloth kept getting in the way and interfered with the sensation. He strained against the ropes which bound his hands but it was no use. He listened with helpless excitement to the ragged breathing and long sighs of the trio fucking on the floor. He had to come, he thought, he just had to let it all out. He was a sopping mess--his shirt wet with sweat and the sweat at his groin running down between the cheeks of his ass, He wanted to yank oft the ropes and jump onto the floor with them. He'd show them, he thought. First that fat, blond Sue. Up her cunt, then before she could catch a breath, he'd shove his cock up her ass, He'd reverse it for Andrea, he thought. First up her ass, then up her cunt. He'd even drag Tim into the act--he'd force him to open his mouth and then thrust his cock down Tim's throat. He'd show them. He gnashed his teeth helplessly. He'd show them--if he wasn't tied up. Then Bob remembered why his hands were tied and why the three were on the floor and he was on the couch. He broke out into gulping sobs.
Chapter 18
Sue was the first to recover. She pushed herself into a sitting position on the floor and looked up at Bob's tear-streaked face. "Want me to untie you?" she asked groggily. He shook his head affirmatively. "Are you ready to come down on the floor with us?" He shook his head negatively. "Tough tittie," Sue said, brushing the damp hair off her face. She got to her feet and walked to the bathroom--Bob heard the sound of running water and splashing. Tim and Andrea roused themselves, stretched and followed Sue into the bathroom. Sue was the first to return. "Hurry up there," she instructed her two friends. "I've got a surprise for you." As she passed him on the couch, Bob asked, "When are you going to untie me?" She walked into the bedroom, telling him to hold his horses--they weren't done yet.
In the bathroom, Tim dried his face on a towel while Andrea brushed her teeth. "How was your date?" he asked her casually. "What date?" she asked, surprised. "Sue said some guy called the other night Didn't you go out with him?" He tossed the towel over the shower curtain rod. Andrea rinsed her mouth and examined her teeth in the mirror. "My dentist is right," she said approvingly. "I've got great teeth."
"How was he?" Tim repeated. Andrea squeezed his balls affectionately. "Baby," she smiled, "there is no comparison."
Sue called from the bedroom. "Come on in. I want to show you something I bought."
"What?" Andrea shouted back as she and Tim went into the living room. "It's a surprise. Are you sitting?" Sue backed out of the bedroom. "You'd better get ready for this," she warned. She turned full front to face them. Andrea shrieked. Tim jumped to his feet. "What in the hell--?" And Bob burst into hysterical laughter. Grinning, Sue watched their reactions.
"What is that supposed to be?" Andrea asked.
"What does it look like?"
Andrea gestured vaguely. "A cock."
"That's what it's supposed to be."
"Whose is it?"
"It's mine. Whose do you think?" Sue stood with her hands on her hips, proudly displaying her dildo. It was a rubber model of a harden, very realistically constructed, including the veins running through the shaft ... She had attached it to herself by four straps-two between her legs and two around her waist which met in an adjustable belt she had buckled around her. She made a few bumps and grinds. "I'm ready for action," she claimed. "Lead me to a hole--any hole."
"Oh, no," Andrea protested. "You're not putting that into me."
Sue insisted it was perfectly safe. She produced a tube of surgical jelly that she'd carried into the room with her. "See," she explained. "I smear this stuff all over it, rub it in so it melts. Then it's nice and greasy. I'm lubricated and up I go."
Andrea shook her head and repeated her refusal.
"Well, actually," Sue confessed. "I wasn't thinking of using it on you."
Bob looked at her fearfully, "You'd better not touch me with it," he threatened unconvincingly.
"Relax, fuck-face," the blond assured him. "Nothing is going to touch your virgin body until you scream for it. No, actually," she turned to Tim, "I was thinking I'd use it on you."
"Me?" the handsome blond was incredulous.
"Why not? Bob's already seen what you've got and how it looks in action--several times as a matter of fact--it's time for a change of pace."
"Well, Sue, I don't think you'd get much of a charge if I sucked on that thing. What would be the sense?"
"I wasn't thinking of having you suck it. Ever taken anything up the ass, Tim?"
"Oh wow!" Andrea exclaimed. She examined the rubber cock carefully. "You think it'll go?"
"Now, hold on," Tim sat himself firmly on the floor. "No one is going to shove anything up my ass."
"I've had you up mine," Andrea pointed out.
"Let her do it. I want to see," Bob urged.
"No," Tim insisted firmly.
"Actually, I don't think I could get it all the way in," Sue said, trying to persuade him. "Maybe just about this much." With her thumb and forefinger, she marked off two inches on the dildo. "If it hurts, I'll pull it out." He nodded, unconvinced. Sue continued, "You know how good a tongue feels there when you're ready to come. It's just like a tongue. A little harder and longer, but when it's in there--I can't describe it. Look, I'll tell you. Andy'll start by sucking you off. Then I'll slip it in so you won't even notice."
Tim grinned. The idea of a cock--especially an artificial cock--cleaving his ass seemed so ridiculous that he couldn't help smiling. "Let me see that thing," he said. He hoisted it in his hands. "Sticky," he muttered.
"The jelly," Sue held up the tube.
"It's not heavy," he commented. He squeezed it. "It is hard."
"I promise. If you don't like it, I'll pull right out," Sue said. "But don't scream right away--give it a chance."
Tim snorted with mirth. "I'll give it a try," he agreed. "But jelly it up real good. I don't have an automatic greaser like you girls, you know."
Sue squeezed out a generous amount of the jelly onto her hand and rubbed it vigorously into the artificial cock. The dildo glistened realistically. "Now lie on your stomach," she instructed him. He stretched out full length on the floor. She pulled up his ass so that he was supported on his knees and elbows--his asshole rode high and was open to the air. "That's perfect. Andy can get underneath and suck till her mouth puckers." Andrea started to slip under Tim's dangling cock. "Hold it a second," Sue ordered. "I've got more work for you." She took Andrea's hand and squeezed a large gob of jelly into the palm. ''Shove that into his ass," she said. "We're going to give him a smooth ride all the way." Andrea swirled a finger in the sticky mass then carefully greased around Tim's asshole. Bob, watching intently, saw Tim's cock begin to rise. "His prick's getting hard," he grunted.
Andrea pushed gently into the asshole with her finger, revolving her finger as she went, carefully lubricating the channel. Then she removed her finger and slid under the arch Tim's middle made with the floor. She started to suck on his cock.
Bob giggled happily, "She looks like a puppy sucking its mother," he chortled.
Sue came up behind Tim, took the dildo in one hand and aimed it for the opening of his asshole. Some clots of the jelly that had not liquefied clung to the hairs around the opening and she gathered them on the dildo as she inched it forward. "Brace yourself," she warned, and squatting, pushed the dildo head against the slit of his asshole. The tight hole refused to let it in--it skidded on the grease around it and slid down, knocking against his balls.
She slid it back along the ridge of his ass to the hole. This time she held onto it as she plunged. It parted the tight muscle and slid about a quarter of an inch in. Still holding onto it, Sue pushed slowly but firmly forward.
"Get it out!" Tim ordered in a strangled voice.
"It takes a minute to get used to," Sue explained. "Take my word for it." She pushed the weight of her hips against it and it slid easily forward. Tim tried to pull his ass off it but Sue swiftly grabbed him around the waist and pulled him toward her. About three inches of the rubber cock had slid up into his ass. "Just relax," she instructed. "Don't fight it. Just relax." She began a slow, deliberate thrusting motion.
Tim felt the tight pressure at his sphincter and felt a 'pop' as the dildo pushed past the enclosing band of muscle and the head of it probed his canal. "It feels like a piece of shit trying to push back in," he gasped, complaining.
Sue silently continued the in and out movement and Andrea steadily sucked at his erect cock. Tim was beginning to feel that the dildo was an extension of his cock that projected out far into the rear, making him longer and harder.
Suddenly, he gasped in surprise, "Jesus Christ, I'm coming!" As his cock jerked in Andrea's mouth, Sue slowly withdrew the dildo and Tim involuntarily found himself voicing his orgasm, tucking his head under his shoulder, squeezing it against his body as though his head, too, was helping to push out his ejaculation.
Andrea quickly slid out from underneath him as he collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily. Sue smiled as she unstrapped the dildo. "If we keep this up, we can turn him gay in two weeks."
After the initial excitement of seeing the artificial cock in the other man's ass, Bob was disappointed. There hadn't been enough action to suit him. "I thought it would be better," he complained. Sue looked at him disgustedly. "Dry up," she said. "If you want to make it better, you know what you can do."
"You're supposed to be making up all the tricks," Bob told her.
"And you're supposed to get so excited you're going to want to join in--only you don't. So until you can put up, just shut up."
"Don't talk to me that way," Bob threatened. "I'll tell my cousin to forget the whole thing."
Sue lost her temper. "Look, you little creep," she exploded. "You're going to learn to fuck and like it."
"Don't threaten me," Bob retorted. "I don't have to do anything I don't want."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sue threw the dildo to the floor. "Huh? What's that supposed to mean? Are we wasting our time? Is this little circus just a big put-on for you?" She leaned threateningly over him. "Maybe after we've spent weeks entertaining you, you tell us, sorry, no can do--and we'll be just as bad off as when we started."
Bob whined, "Leave me alone. I want to go home now. I'm tired."
"You're tired," she shrieked. "From what?"
"I want you to untie my hands."
"First, let's have a little action," she ordered. "You're pretty good in the command department, but let's see what you can do." She reached out a hand toward the fly of his pants. He flopped over onto his stomach, yelling for her not to touch him. She grabbed him around the shoulders, trying to turn him over. He yanked his head up and knocked her hard in the breast--she screamed in pain. He pivoted on his ass and lifted a foot to kick her but was grabbed by Tim, who had swiftly risen from the floor.
"That's enough of that," Tim said firmly, grabbing Bob in a bear hug. Bob squirmed violently.
"Take your hands off me. Take your hands off me. Nobody's supposed to touch me. You said you wouldn't touch me until I was ready."
Tim tried to calm him down. "Nobody's touching you."
"That bastard bashed my tit," Sue moaned. "Sue, get in the other room," Tim ordered. "Leave me alone with him. Just two minutes. That's all I ask," the buxom blond asked. Tim motioned to Andrea to take Sue out of the room. Andrea stood up and held her friend around the shoulder.
"Let's leave it to Tim," she said soothingly, leading Sue into the bedroom.
"That little pervert is a menace. He ought to have his head chopped off," Sue said sullenly.
Tim untied Bob. "That's enough for tonight," he said. "You'd better go downstairs now." Bob rubbed his aching wrists. "She'd better be nice to me or else, that's all I can say," he threatened.
"O.K. Go home now."
"You promised you wouldn't touch me until I said I was ready."
"Yeah. We promised."
"I'll tell you when I'm ready. It's just not now." Tim walked Bob to the door and let him out.
"When are we going to get together again?" the janitor asked.
"We'll let you know."
Tim's asshole felt sticky--he decided to take a shower. He stuck his head through the bedroom door to tell the girls but stopped, grinning. Andrea was comforting Sue--her head was buried in the blonde's cunt and Sue was reciprocating. They didn't see him. He went to the shower, leaving behind the sounds of cunts being lapped.
After he had rinsed all the soap off and was relaxing in the needle spray of hot water beating down, Sue and Andrea came into the bathroom. The girls climbed into the tub--Sue carried the greasy dildo.
"Why waste the water?" she explained. "We can all clean up at the same time."
The bell on the door sounded. "I'll get it," Tim offered. He wrapped a towel around his middle and stepped into the hall to open the door. Laura Starr stood in the hall. She looked disapproving when she saw Tim dressed only in the bath towel and asked him if he ever went home. He grinned and asked if she wanted to come in. She entered the living room and looked around for the two girls.
"Are you alone here?"
"What if I am?"
"Can't you ever answer a question without interpreting it as a compliment to your ego?"
Just then Sue called from the shower, "Who the hell is it?" Tim looked steadily at Laura. "I guess that answers your question. It's Bob's cousin," he called back. The two girls hadn't finished their shower. Tim tried to entertain Laura but she refused his offer of a drink or a cigarette. She resisted all his attempts to make small talk. He gathered the sheet from the floor, folded it and threw it into the bedroom.
Laura found herself watching him move. She did it out of the corners of her eyes--she didn't want him to know she was watching. When he bent to pick up the sheet, Tim made no attempt to hide himself and she caught a glimpse of his prick dangling against his balls. She shivered--simultaneously attracted and repelled. She'd never been fucked and she wondered what it would be like to be taken by Tim. I'd better not think about it, she thought. If I do, I may end up doing it and then I'll be sorry. It was different with Bob--there was a reason for letting him do it. She wondered whether it would be very painful. In anticipation of the night, she'd gone to a doctor and had him surgically pierce her hymen. There'd be no pain when Bob finally took her virginity, but she wondered whether a man's organ in her vagina would hurt her.
Draped in towels, Andrea and Sue came in from the bathroom. Laura wasted no time in small talk: "I had to visit a friend in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come up to find out how things were progressing."
"My, you're in a big hurry," Sue exclaimed. "What's the trouble? You leaving town?"
"It's been less than a week," Andrea said, incredulous that Laura expected results so soon.
"Does that mean there hasn't been any progress?" Laura asked coldly.
"Well," Tim drawled. "You have to take into account that we're working with pretty raw material."
"When can I expect that he'll be ready?"
"How can you set a date on something like this?" Sue exploded.
Laura pressed the point. "Another week? Two? A month? This is a job I'm paying you to do. I'd like to know when it will be done."
"Look," Andrea said heatedly. "You're not paying us until it's finished--it's not costing you anything. The longer it takes, the more it costs us."
"Well, if it doesn't happen pretty soon, you won't be paid anything."
"We're doing the best we can," Andrea retorted.
"Obviously, I was mistaken," Laura said witheringly. "I thought I was dealing with experts. I should have known better than to get mixed with amateurs who would--" she hesitated, trying to think of some crushing way to end her sentence, ... "who would lose themselves in their work," she finished.
Tim asked levelly if that meant she was calling the whole thing off.
"I will if I don't get results soon," she answered.
"Do you want to set a deadline?"
Laura was upset but she didn't want to show it. She despised these three but she needed them. If they failed, there was no one else she could turn to. She didn't want to insult them and force them to walk out on her, but she didn't want them to think they were doing her a favor. If she set a deadline and they failed, that was the end of it--there would be no second chance. The best thing to do, she reasoned, was to leave things open but make it appear that she was giving them an extension. "I won't set a deadline just yet," she answered. "Call me when you think he's ready. But make it soon." She walked stiffly to the door, opened it, and without bothering to say goodnight, left the room.
Sue shrugged. "Well, that's that."
"I've got an idea," Andrea said. "It's pretty mean, but if we're in it for the money, then anything goes, Right?" Her friends eagerly turned to her. "The bitch is in a hurry. So are we. Let's wait for three days and then give her a call. 'Hello, Laura? Bob is greased and ready to go.'"
"In three days?" Sue roared. "Impossible!"
"She doesn't know that," Andrea continued. "Now if you were Bob and you'd never had a girl before, you'd be pretty scared. Right? You'd be afraid something would go wrong. You'd feel better if you knew you were in absolute control. That way, whatever happened you couldn't get hurt."
Tim cut in, "The only way you get absolute control is with a dummy or a corpse."
"Or," Andrea topped him, "with someone who can't move. Someone who is tied hand and foot, whose eyes are masked so she can't see you and whose mouth is gagged so she can't bite you or speak to you."
"That's a great theory," Tim said sarcastically. "What kind of a nut is going to let herself be tied up like that?"
"Someone who want it very badly and who can't get it any other way--Laura." She silenced Tim's objection with a wave of her hand. "Wait a minute. It's simple. We tell her that Bob is ready except for one thing--he's scared. And he won't do it unless she's tied up according to his instructions."
"It sounds good except for one thing. Who goes in to fuck her?"
Andrea shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You. Or me. Or Sue. With the rubber cock. She'll never know the difference."
Tim smiled broadly. "It's a hell of an idea."
"What have we got to lose? Let's take the chance. What do you say?"
"I say," Sue piped up, "Let's fuck her all the way!"
Chapter 19
A few days later, when the call came, Laura was dressing to go out. She was trying to avoid an argument with her mother, who was pestering her to stay and meet some people who were coming for drinks. "You can't just stay in your room and hide," her mother argued between sips of her dry martini.
"You see I'm going out," Laura underlined her intention by slipping into her shoes.
"You're running away," her mother retorted. "Sweetie, I'm not asking you to do anything so terrible. I'm just getting together with a few old biddies for drinks."
"I don't drink," Laura said primly.
"It might do-you some good if you did."
"You drink enough for the entire family," Laura's temper started to get out of hand. "Sweetie, it's just a social gesture--it doesn't mean a thing." Her mother finished her martini. "And all I'm asking you to do is make a social gesture. Mrs. Curds' son just got back from two years in Asia Minor and she's bringing him up to say hello."
Brushing her hair into place, Laura looked at her mother in the mirror. "I'm not interested."
"Poopsie, I don't expect you to be," her mother said. "And neither is he--he's not staying long--he has to rush off to meet his boyfriend."
What are you getting at?" Laura asked impatiently. Her mother smiled confidentially. "The Curtises have money from here to the end of the century. Only Joe--that's Mr. Curtis, Sr.--is very old-fashioned and he's going to cut Junior off without a penny unless he sees him safely married before he dies. Now, baby, why shouldn't Joe, Jr. and my little girl ... "
Laura cut her mother off, "That's disgusting."
"Well, sweetie," her mother said frankly, "it doesn't appear you're ever going to be interested in anything on two legs and he's not going to bother with you past the ceremony--what have you got against increasing your net worth?"
At that moment, the telephone rang; automatically, Mrs. Starr reached for it. Laura snapped at her, "Mother, that's my phone!"
"Force of habit, didn't think you ever got any calls." Laura picked up the receiver, "Hello?" Andrea was on the other end. Laura asked her to hold on for a second, then turned to her mother and asked her to leave the room. Surprised, Mrs. Starr retrieved her cocktail glass from the table, and muttering something about wonders never ceasing, very deliberately started to tiptoe from the room. "Is it a man?" she whispered over her shoulder as she went. Laura firmly closed and locked her bedroom door.
Her heart beat so quickly she was unable to catch her breath. With the blood beating strongly in her ears, she picked up the receiver again and asked Andrea whether her call meant that Bob was ready. When Andrea explained the conditions that "Bob" insisted on, Laura wanted to slam down the receiver and forget the entire business. There was a long silence. Andrea thought the connection had been broken. "Are you still there?" she asked. Laura was scarcely able to gasp out a "yes." Andrea asked whether she wanted to do it that night. "There's only one thing," Laura stammered. "Look," Andrea pointed out defensively, "these are the conditions your cousin made. I can't do anything about them."
"Just one thing," Laura insisted. "What?"
"No blindfold. I want to see him."
"Don't you understand? He doesn't want you to see him."
"Then make the room dark--I won't have my eyes covered." Andrea promised she would see what she could do about Laura's request. Laura agreed to be at the girls' apartment that night at nine-thirty.
She felt she had to get out of the apartment and into the air. Her breath was constricted, she felt about to choke. She grabbed her purse and almost running, headed for the apartment door. Her mother, on the phone in the hall, appeared startled when she saw her looking so upset. "What's the matter?" Laura ignored her mother and slammed out of the apartment.
"Excuse me a second," Mrs. Starr murmured into the mouthpiece and followed her daughter into the hall. Laura was leaning against the wall near the elevator. "What's wrong?" Mrs. Starr hurried toward her. Laura whirled, saw her mother coming, and cried out, "Leave me alone!" She rushed a few steps down the hall to the service door and ran down the steps.
Mrs. Starr decided not to follow her. In the apartment, she resumed her call, "I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson. As I was saying, my husband has been out of town for a few weeks." Mr. Wilson, on the other end, insisted that Mr. Starr's office had informed him that the landlord would be home that day. Mrs. Starr said she didn't know anything about it and asked Mr. Wilson to call that evening. "Just tell him that I called," Mr. Wilson had to have the last word. "It's Mr. Wilson. One of his tenants. He knows me."
As Andrea laid the receiver in its cradle, Sue pounced on her, "Well, what did she say?" Andrea reported her conversation with Laura. "No blindfold?" Sue said. "That sounds risky."
"It's the easiest thing in the world," Tim answered. "We'll buy some heavy black material and cover the windows with it. We don't have to cover her eyes but she still won't be able to see anything."
"Tim you're a brain." Sue headed for the bedroom. "I'll get dressed and we'll go buy some material."
The rest of the day passed quickly. Not quickly enough, however, for the eager trio. As they covered the windows in the bedroom with the heavy material, they tossed back and forth the ideas they had for spending the money that Laura was going to give them.
Sue came cheerfully out of the bedroom. "Clean sheets for tonight," she announced. "It's not every day we entertain a princess." Tim was relaxedly watching a movie on the T.V. Andrea was nervously pacing the floor of the living room. "Relax, Andy," Sue said. "What are you so jumpy about?"
"I think Bob should be here." Sue sat beside Tim to watch the movie. "Oh, sure. We'll give a party. We can invite the whole house."
Andrea insisted. "To make it look good, I think he should be here." The buzzer sounded. "Too late," Sue said. "There she is." She went to press the button that opened the downstairs door. "He doesn't have to be here before," Andrea went on. "But after. Tim will slip out of the bedroom. After we untie her, she can come out and see Bob here."
"What if he blows everything?" Sue protested.
"I can't think ahead to everything," Andrea answered. "I just feel it would be a good idea to have him here." The doorbell rang. Andrea opened the door and Laura walked in, Andrea shut the door behind her. Tim looked up from the T.V., waved hello, and turned back to the movie--as though what was happening in the room didn't interest him. Sue giggled brightly. "Hi. Come in. Take your clothes off." Laura looked warily at the three.
"Where's Bob?" she asked. Andrea announced that Bob refused to come in until he knew that Laura had arrived and had been prepared according to his instructions. "Tim and Sue can tie you up," she told the girl. "I'll go down and bring Bob back with me." Laura shook her head urgently--she would not allow Tim to touch her.
"He can't see me with my clothes off." She was firm. "That's okay with me," Tim told her. 'This is a pretty exciting movie and I'm just as glad not to miss the action."
Sue assured them she could take care of Laura by herself and told Andrea to go down and get Bob. She led Laura into the bedroom with her and shut the door behind them. Very excited, Andrea ran across the room to Tim, jumped into his lap and thrust her tongue into his mouth. "What's that for?" he asked surprised. "Don't do anything until I get back," she ordered him. She kissed him again, then walked to the door and left the apartment.
Laura was hesitant about removing her clothes but Sue promised she wouldn't look any more than was necessary. She held out a hanger for her. Taking a deep, decisive breath, Laura began to undress. She refused Sue's offer to unzip her or unhook her bra. Sue had to control herself from obvious ogling at Laura's breasts fell free. They were not large, but were firm and high, very round with large, pink nipples. Sue's mouth started to water--a sudden, mischievous thought passed through her head. Maybe she could sneak into the room with Tim and tongue-lick Laura into readiness. Laura removed the last of her garments. She held out her hands to Sue, indicating she was ready to be tied. "Put them behind your back," Sue instructed. Laura obeyed, and Sue stepped behind her, taking care not to feel, any more than was necessary, the smooth skin of Laura's ass, as she tightly bound the girl's hands.
Andrea raced down the stairs to the basement, her excitement high. She wanted to get Bob as quickly as possible and return to the apartment immediately. She didn't want to miss a single second of what was going to happen--from the minute Tim went in to Laura until he finished and came out.
As she descended the cellar steps, she heard a loud, angry voice shouting. She couldn't understand the words, the voice was too enraged. She slowed down as she reached the last step and cautiously poked her head around the wall enclosing the cellar steps. The door to Bob's apartment was open; she could tell by the light spilling into the narrow corridor. She quietly crept down the hall. As she did, there was a sudden silence which startled her. She stopped moving and strained forward to hear, but there was nothing. Then, as suddenly as it had stopped, the voice began again. Andrea reached the door but could not see into it unless she peered around the door frame. She decided to take the chance--Bob was sitting on the bed, storming around the room was a large man whom she did not recognize. Bob, appearing very miserable, was trying to avoid meeting the eyes of the man who was haranguing him. He saw Andrea's head at the door and his mouth dropped open. "There she is!" he cried, amazed. Instinctively, Andrea pulled her head back from the room but the large man rushed to the door and grabbing her by the shoulder, pushed her into the room ahead of him. "So you're the girl!" he exclaimed viciously.
Andrea struggled free of his grip. "Who do you think you're pawing?" her eyes blazed. "You little tramp!" he spat at her. "I ought to take care of you myself."
"You touch me again and I'll tear your eyes out," the petite brunette threatened. Bob shook his head vigorously. "You shouldn't talk to him that way," he protested. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
"That's my uncle Maurice," he whispered, exactly like a schoolboy giving the answer to a classmate in trouble.
Andrea's mind started racing. His uncle Maurice! M.J. Starr. The owner of the building. Laura's father. And Laura tied up by now and waiting. What the hell was going on? The angry voice of the landlord cut into her thoughts. "That's right. His uncle. I own this building. And if you and your friend aren't out by the end of the week, I can arrange a nice, long stay for you in the women's prison downtown." Andrea wasn't put off by his threats. At this point, she felt confident enough to talk her way out of almost anything. "Just dry up," she told him coldly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Mr. Starr broke into an angry tirade. He never spoke clearly when he was calm--when he was angry, it was almost impossible to understand him. Andrea missed half the words but quickly got the message. Mr. Wilson had rattled on her and Sue. He had been trying to get in touch with Mr. Starr but couldn't--the landlord had been out of town until just that day. Mr. Wilson had told him how the two girls on the third floor were running around with his nephew, helping him to look into people's windows. The landlord turned on his nephew, "What kind of a house do you think I'm running? Do you want all my tenants to move out on me?" Andrea offered the opinion that Mr. Wilson was a meddling busybody. Mr. Starr snorted at her. He said he thanked Mr. Wilson for letting him know what was going on. "He doesn't know the truth," Andrea protested. "He's twisted everything. We were trying to help Bob. That's right. Help him. You might like to know we caught him peeking at us one night. We didn't run off to blow the whistle on him--my roommate and I thought we could help him overcome his compulsion."
"How?" Mr. Starr challenged her. "By going out to watch with him on the fire escape?"
"I don't suppose Mr. Wilson told you what he asked me and my roommate to do with him."
"He didn't say anything about that."
"No. Of course he wouldn't." A strange idea was tickling Andrea's brain as she talked to Mr. Starr. She described the strange scene in Mr. Wilson's apartment, coloring the story slightly in order to paint her and Sue in favorable tints. When Mr. Starr began pressing her for more details, she was sure that her idea could be put to work. Mr. Starr seemed most interested in the fact that Mr. Wilson had, in his fantasy, attempted to "punish" the girls. Andrea skillfully led him down the path she was creating. "I'm not saying that Mr. Wilson isn't a nice man under other circumstances and maybe Sue and I would have--well, you know-played around with him even if we hadn't been trying to protect Bob."
"But what did he do?" Mr. Starr kept asking. She avoided answering that question. "Mr. Starr," she said. "I think you should see my roommate and see what a lovely girl she is. Then you'll know just how ridiculous Mr. Wilson's story is."
She started to the door of Bob's apartment. "Sue is upstairs right now. Would you like to meet her?"
Mr. Starr nodded heavily. "O.K. I'll meet her." He followed Andrea. Bob started to get off the bed. "You wait here," Mr. Starr ordered. "I'll be back to deal with you later."
As they went through the hall, Andrea continued her story. "I'm not saying that Sue and I haven't done some pretty weird things but we never tried to hurt anybody." She walked slowly, trying to waste as much time as she could so that, when they arrived at the apartment, Mr. Starr would be ready to do what she wanted. "Sue's very trusting. There was this guy we knew who was afraid of women. Sue thought she could help him get over it. Do you know what she did? She let him tie her up so that she couldn't stop him in any way from doing what he wanted to her. That's how trusting she is. Now, I put it to you, Mr. Starr, do you think a girl like that would willingly hurt anyone?" The landlord mumbled that he got his story from Mr. Wilson. Andrea pointed out that Mr. Wilson was probably ashamed of what he had done with her and Sue and was afraid that if he didn't accuse them first, they might accuse him. "Which is silly," she shrugged. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. It didn't bother us that he was an old man--some old men are very nice." She turned on the staircase and smiled warmly down at the landlord. He turned red and tried to look very stern. "Oh, Mr. Starr, you're not old," she laughed. He muttered that he was old enough to be her father. "That shouldn't stop two people who are really interested, should it?" They had reached the ground floor and Andrea felt she had to work fast. "I mean, suppose Sue, let's say, would like to meet you and she said it would be okay for you to have her all tied up ... "
"Why would she do that?" he breathed heavily. "Do you have to have a reason for doing everything?" Andrea asked carelessly. "I guess not," he answered although he didn't sound convinced. "Mr. Starr," Andrea reached her point, "If I did tell Sue that you wanted to meet her and just for fun, let's say, you wanted her all tied up, what would you say?" The landlord was ready to eat out of her hand. "She wouldn't. She wouldn't." Behind his black-rimmed spectacles his dark eyes bulged unbelievingly. They were climbing to the third floor. "Maybe not," Andrea agreed. "Would you like me to ask her?" He swallowed heavily and blinked rapidly several times. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. "She wouldn't," he kept repeating. "She wouldn't." They arrived at the door of the apartment. Andrea looked up at him, smiling seductively. "Wait here," she commanded gently, squeezed his elbow, opened the door, and disappeared into the apartment.
She made sure the door was tightly closed. Sue rose impatiently, asking what the hell had taken her so long. Andrea quieted her. "Don't say a word." She switched off the T.V. set. "Don't ask any questions now," she whispered. "Just do what I tell you." Tim and Sue motioned questioningly. "Get into the bathroom and don't turn the light on. Don't say a word--don't make even a sound. I'll tell you what it's all about in just a few minutes." Totally bewildered, Sue and Tim marched to the bathroom and shut themselves in. "Not a word," Andrea repeated her order.
She counted slowly to one hundred and fifty, took a deep breath and then opened the apartment door. The landlord stood squeezing his sopping handkerchief between his palms. "Come in, Mr. Starr," she purred. "Come in."
Chapter 20
In the pitch black bedroom, Laura had begun to lose all sense of time. She heard sounds she'd never been aware of before--the creaking floor, toilets flushing, disembodied voices. The room was stifling. She couldn't move off the bed if she wanted to. Sue had loosely tied her feet to the legs of the bed so that although her legs were free to move, she would not be unable to untie the knots. All she could do was to lie there, helplessly, her impatience and her fear mounting with each second. Finally, she heard the door open and close and then heard someone else in the room breathing unevenly. She forced herself to be calm and lie still. She heard a rustling of clothes being taken off, then a chair scraped across the floor.
Mr. Starr cut off a whispered curse, banging his toe against a chair leg. He was absolutely blind in the room. His eyes were not accustomed to the darkness, He inched his way forward, half a foot at a time, extending his hand in front of him to avoid crashing into anything. For all he knew he could have been in a room as large as Grand Central Terminal. Just when it seemed that he was going to have to go on groping forever, his knee bumped against something firm and soft. It was the edge of the bed. Cautiously, he lowered his hand and recoiled automatically as his fingers touched human skin. He extended his hand. His fingers closed around a leg. It was smooth and taut--he stroked it and began to follow the length of it with his hands. It swelled beneath his fingers, becoming broader and plumper and more moist and then suddenly his fingers met something crisp and wiry. A clump of hair. He fingered it for a moment, then ran his fingers across toward the other thigh but stopped and let his palm rest on the entire bush. His cock shot up stiff and thick as the curly cunt hair prickled against his hand.
Scarcely daring to breathe, Laura felt the hand resting on her groin. Why does he have to play with me, she thought. Why doesn't he just do it and get it over with? She shifted her weight underneath the resting hand.
Mr. Starr felt the twitching of the warm cunt. Oh, girlie, he thought. You're hot for it. He felt around with his hand to discover where he could climb onto the bed. Her legs were spread--he crawled over the leg he had first discovered and squatted on his haunches between the girl's legs and threw himself forward, across her body.
Laura had the breath unexpectedly knocked out of her as the huge, hairy mass landed heavily on her. Thick fingers out of the darkness enclosed her head and explored their way down her face. She was glad her mouth was gagged so he couldn't kiss her. Her neck was unprotected, however, and in a moment she felt him. licking and rubbing his teeth against it as though he was trying to devour her.
Mr. Starr breathed in heavily, trying to inhale the sweet fragrance of the girl beneath him. She was young, he could tell, and probably a real knockout. He ran his hands down her torso. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her. He drooled his way down her neck to her breasts, and almost cried tears of delight as those lush, firm globes strained against his hungry lips. He tried to press them together but her hands tied behind her back separated them, making them rise up, high and firm. He slurped his mouth over the nipples, pulling them between his teeth, trying to get them to stand erect in his mouth. Below, he ran his hands under her tight young ass and was kneading the cheeks in his grasping fingers.
Laura was in agony. Her neck was sticky and her skin itched where it touched his. Even worse was the heavy smell that seemed to be rising from him and enveloping her. She bent back her head, trying to avoid the awful odor, but the movement only raised her chest, forcing her nipples into greater prominence and made it easier for him to suck on them. This isn't what I wanted, she kept telling herself. I only wanted him to do it and get it over with, not to play with me. Why didn't they tell him that? It was too late for instructions.
The landlord was on fire, slobbering over the body that offered no resistance to him. His cock felt hard-he was ready to plunge it into her but he wanted to prolong his time. He brought his hands around from under her ass and began massaging her cunt. He was surprised to find it still dry.
Oh, girlie, he thought, I'll flood your cunt. Without wasting another second, he buried his head in her curly groin and parted her cunt lips with his tongue, slithering into the smooth interior. The girl's legs squeezed unexpectedly against his head and he grabbed the thighs, digging his thumbs into the soft flesh where they joined her torso.
Laura squirmed against his voracious mouth as he thrust his tongue deep into her. She couldn't bear any more and suddenly sat upright, withdrawing her cunt from his reach. Underneath the gag, she tried to tell him to stop, but all he heard were muffled sounds. Puzzled, he tried to push her down again, but she resisted, He had the sudden idea that she was trying to get him to use force and he pushed hard against her shoulders. A loud, muffled cry of outrage was her response. He was bewildered. Well, girlie, he thought, we'll just have to do it my way. Roughly he forced her onto her back and quickly straddled her-reversing his direction so that his head was by her cunt, his cock bulging against her face. He ached to thrust into her mouth, but Andrea had ordered him under no circumstances to remove the gag. He had to satisfy himself with rubbing his prick, already moist with his own fluids, against her face.
That's better, he thought, now your cunt is getting ready. He ran his hands under her ass, raising it so that none of her wetness would escape him. Underneath the huge cock, rolling across her face and secreting a sticky fluid, Laura fought the need to vomit. There was no way to escape him--he had her firmly pressed against the bed and her head was locked against him no matter which way she turned. If she raised up her nose would have thrust into his buttocks. As it was, the thick smell emanating from him made her choke beneath her gag. There was no escaping the hair, the coarse skin and the evil odors. Helplessly, she began to cry. There was no relief in tears--they mixed with his secretions, stained her face and made her skin crawl. I deserve this, she told herself. This is my reward. Just let him do the rest and give me a baby. In nine months this scene would be a faded picture in her memory and the pleasure she would have confronting her father with the child of this nightmare night would far outweigh all the distaste she was feeling now. Just let him hurry, she prayed. Just let him hurry.
Now she's ready, the landlord thought. He had worked up a steady flow of her juices. To test her, he pushed his forefinger into her cunt. She was hot and wet and he was surprised at how tight the channel was. The thought of forcing his way into that tight passage made his cock twitch against her face. He climbed onto the floor for a second, then crawled back onto the bed with his cock in one hand. With the other, he parted her lips and inserted his erection. Once past the opening, the passageway gripped him like suction cups--little tremors of pleasure shot through his body. Underneath him, Laura felt that she was being ripped in two. There was no way to stop him as he pushed forward-filling her with the loathsome thing that had just been bouncing across her face. Just when she thought he was in and could go no more, she felt him throw himself down on her and begin plunging his cock back and forth. It seemed to catch on her torn, bruised membranes, Laura was sure she was bleeding. She made little cries, trying to get him to stop, but he paid no attention. She heard his heavy breathing and his grunts of pleasure. Suddenly, she felt him rear off her chest and the weight at her cunt seemed to triple as his thrusting motions increased in speed and intensity. He slammed in and out of her, thrusting deeper and faster-she heard the bed creaking beneath them. All of a sudden he stiffened, there was a final lunge into her and then he collapsed, panting with heavy sobs onto her chest.
In the basement, Bob was trying to watch television but he couldn't concentrate. He wanted to know why Andrea had come down to see him earlier. She didn't know his uncle was there so that couldn't have been why, he thought. Then he wondered where she had taken his uncle Maurice. And why wasn't he back? What was she saying to him? Something was going on. Bob was sure of that. It might even have to do with his job as a janitor. He switched off the T.V. set impatiently. He had to know what was going on. There was only one way. Taking a ladder that stood in a corner of his room, he went into the back yard, opened the ladder underneath the fire escape, ascended to the first floor, and stealthily began to climb to the window of the girls' third floor apartment.
"How long are we going to have to sit in this bathroom?" Tim complained. Andrea explained again why they couldn't have a light in the living room. She couldn't risk having Laura see her father's outline when he left the room. Sue shook her head wistfully, "I wish you'd told me. I would have managed to crawl under the bed. I'd love to know what's going on in there." Tim wondered what would happen if Laura ever found out. "She'll never know," Andrea insisted. "Anyway, I think it was a great idea. She was willing to sleep with her cousin, wasn't she? Besides, what does it matter who you screw with? It's the fun that counts, isn't it? That's what you and Sue always tell me. It's all in fun. I bet she's getting a screw she'll never forget."
Mr. Starr's breathing finally returned to normal. His soft cock slipped out of her cunt, trailing the last spurts of his come. It fell weakly, nestling between her thighs. The initial impact of fucking a totally submissive girl was beginning to wear off. He wanted her again--he wanted to feel her mouth over his cock. He wasn't supposed to remove any of her bindings, but he figured, what difference did it make now. He reached out a hand to feel for her mouth. It was covered with a thick strip of adhesive. He peeled it off her cheek, then yanked it the rest of the way. Startled, Laura lifted a hand to her mouth. It was wet. She realized what he had done and she thought he had torn the skin and made her bleed. What was he doing to her, she thought, and opened her mouth to protest. The cry never came. Something lumpy and soft was stuffed into her mouth. Choking, she tried to spit it out and was horrified to feel it lengthen, become hard and extend to the back of her throat. She jerked her head back and forth but it was no use. He clamped her mouth tight over him so that she could not spit him out. Her movements only increased his excitement. He kneeled over her and pressed the full weight of his body against her mouth. Hearing her gag, he pulled back a little, but not enough to give her much room. He wanted her to suck at his cock. He figured that she would know how but she did nothing--so he fucked her in her mouth, riding up and down over her face, moving slower than he had in her cunt, but with deliberate, even movements. He shifted his position and felt his balls graze her chin. He stayed that way for several seconds, letting his hairy globes bounce up and down on her face. He was a little disappointed. After the big build-up her friend in the hall had given him, he expected something more. Well, he thought, he wasn't unhappy with what he had--maybe later he could convince her friend to join them and he could fuck them both at the same time.
He felt ready to come. With a sharp intake of breath he controlled his thrusting so that he was making rapid motions into her. As he felt himself coming, he withdrew to the tip of her mouth and as the thick fluid burst out of him, he thrust deeply into her throat. Laura's stomach began to turn on her and she felt herself gagging but there was no release with his cock plugging her mouth. Simultaneously swallowing and choking, her instincts took over--she stopped fighting and without thinking, swallowed his warm liquid.
On the fire escape, Bob peered through the window, unable to see into the room. The window was slightly open from the bottom--stealthily he inched it up until he had pushed it all the way open. There was a piece of material covering the window hanging between the Venetian blind and the frame. He pushed it aside, trying to see into the room. He heard the sound of ragged breathing but couldn't see anything--he wondered whether it might be his uncle with one of the girls. Bob reasoned that if he caught his uncle in such a situation, he could promise never to say anything about it as long as he was allowed to keep his job. He squeezed himself through the window and stood on the sill inside the room. The man on the bed had finally caught his breath after a climax that had set every muscle in his body trembling. Suddenly he became aware of the change of the sound in the room, as though the window had been opened, and he felt someone else in the room with him and the girl. He looked behind him. There was an unexpected flash of light from the outside. He was right--someone was coming. He lunged toward the window. "Don't move, I've got'cha," he cried. Grasping blindly, he grabbed the leg of the intruder who landed with a cry on the bed, tearing down the curtain and part of the Venetian blind as he fell. The landlord began to pummel the intruder. Laura saw the outlines of the two fighting men. She had no idea of what was going on and began to scream.
"Something's going on in there!" Tim rose hastily from the bathroom floor.
"Damn!" Andrea cursed. "I told him to be sure not to take off that gag."
"We'd better see what it is," urged Sue. "If she doesn't stop screaming, we're going to have the police here in a minute."
The three raced through the apartment, Tim in the lead. He threw open the bedroom door and switched on the light. For an instant, everyone was blind in the sudden bright light. Laura stopped in mid-scream. The three on the bed turned to the door while the three at the door stared at the bed. Mr. Starr, completely naked, was crouched over Bob whose nose was bleeding. The most shocking sight was Laura-her neck and chest were badly bitten and already beginning to bruise, her mouth was bleeding and there was a trickle of blood at her groin.
She blinked, trying to adjust to the light. She saw the three at the door looking at her. She tried to hide her bare breasts from them, turning away her eyes fell on the men on the bed. Her father's back was to her and she saw her cousin first. Their glances met. Mr. Starr, finally able to see, realized he had been beating his nephew. He was about to launch into an angry tirade when he saw Bob was staring, fascinated, past him. He turned.
"Oh, my God! My God!" he could hardly choke out the words. For the barest second, Laura looked at him as though she didn't know who he was. Then the realization sank in and she began screaming. She fell straight back against the bed and banged her head violently up and down on the mattress, Bob, still half lying under Mr. Starr, began to giggle helplessly. His uncle rose dazedly, took a few steps, then began retching violently onto the floor. Laura's screams subsided into hysterical sobs. Andrea's prediction was fulfilled. Laura had received a fucking she'd never forget. The fun for that night was over.
