I'd been in my room studying and was unaware that anyone else was in the house, much less upstairs. So I stopped short in the bathroom doorway, momentarily frozen in amazement at sight of Tommy McKenna jacking off over the bathtub. He must've been close to getting his nuts off because his fuzzy-cheeked face looked kind of drawn with tension. But he froze too, hand still gripping his cock, eyes bugging with surprise at sight of me.
Then he exclaimed, "I didn't know anyone else was in the house!"
"What're you doing that for? Wasting it?" I asked.
"Because I don't like having wet dreams," he declared frankly. "Especially not when it's as cold at night as it's been lately. And I didn't know you'd be staying with us tonight. I'd a lot rather have you suck me off. You know that, Trina."
"When do you expect your mother home?"
"Not for another hour. She's got Missionary Society at the church. Will you suck me?" Tommy asked hopefully.
"I've found out about another way you may like better," I told him quickly. I stepped on inside the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. I was surprised to feel my cunt already beginning to drool with excitement.
Tommy said, "I think there's only one other, way I'd like better than your mouth, Trina. But you said you don't dare do it that way."
"There's another way I just found out about," I told him in a conspiratorial whisper. "I caught Ed Sands, my father's foreman, doing it to Mrs. Miller, our cook, the other day. They thought I'd be staying here that night instead of driving clear out home, so I wasn't expected when I walked in and surprised them."
"What other way is there?" Tommy asked.
"You'll see," I told him with a superior, mysterious air. "Just get your pants off while I get ready."
I went to the cupboard under the washbowl, got out an enema syringe, and filled it with soapy, warm water. Then I stepped out of my panties. Tommy had his pants off already. He stood watching every move I made, wide-eyed, with excitement, curiosity, and wonder mingled in his expression. I threw my panties in his face, giggling, and told him, "Sniff the crotch in those for a minute until I'm ready."
Ordinarily Tommy probably would've, but right then he was too busy watching what I was doing. I smeared a little Vaseline on the end of the syringe, then put it up my asshole and squeezed the bulb empty.
"What're you doing?" Tommy asked.
"Mrs. Miller told me it's best to wash everything out good first before you do it this way," I explained. I sat down on the toilet stool and expelled the first syringe load of water.
While I was wiping myself, Tommy asked incredulously, "You mean you're gonna have me put it in you... there?"
He tickled me, him and his preacher's son hangups about certain words. I teased, "You wouldn't say 'Shit!' if you had a whole mouthful, would you? Shithole! Asshole! That's the word you want, not 'there'!"
"Rectum!" Tommy exclaimed, his lips twisting a little with a distasteful expression. "You expect me to put my thing in your... rectum?"
"Not your 'thing'," I corrected as I squeezed the bulb of the syringe, shooting the second load of sudsy water up into my lower bowel, "your stiff cock! Your dick! Your dong! Your prick! Your joint! Your tally whacker! Your pud! Your joystick! But not your 'thing'."
"My penis," Tommy said with that same little twist still on his lips. "You want me to put my penis in your rectum?"
"Not if you don't want to," I told him with a shrug and sat down on the stool to get rid of that second rinse. I added, "Mrs. Miller says Ed Sands likes putting it in her ass better'n he does in her cunt. And she likes it better because she doesn't have to worry about him maybe getting her pregnant. But if you don't want to try it, forget it! Go ahead and jack off."
"You won't suck me off?" Tommy asked whiningly.
"A guy who's afraid to ever even try something new doesn't deserve--" I interrupted myself, demanding, "You think your cock's too nice to put in my asshole, do you? But you don't think my mouth's too nice to put your cock in, I've noticed!"
"I'll try it!" Tommy exclaimed quickly. "Don't get mad at me, Trina. Please?"
I wiped myself again and stood up as I told him, "Then get ready."
"Get ready?" he echoed. "What do I do?"
"Put a coat of Vaseline all over your cock," I instructed. I picked up the jar from the side of the washbasin and lifted a gob of it out on one finger, then handed the jar to him.
Tommy was ready before I was. Now that he'd had a minute to get used to the idea a little, he'd lost that look of distaste about his mouth completely.
I wiped the excess Vaseline off my finger on a wad of toilet paper, then bent over, my clothes pulled up, my ass bared to him. Tommy moved in quickly behind me. He gripped my hips with both hands with no need of instructions from me. His breathing had become ragged with excitement.
I wasn't exactly calm myself. My cunt actually felt like it was burning. That's where I really would've liked to have felt Tommy's hardness starting into me. But my old father was hung up about making sure his daughter kept her maidenhead. Regardless of the pretext he used, I knew the real reason he insisted on having the doctor give me a physical examination about every six months. He'd started that when I was about twelve. I wasn't too long figuring out that what old dad really was interested in having the doctor check out was whether or not my hymen was still intact.
That it was still there when I was twelve had been a miracle, considering the tomboy way I grew up, astride a horse most of the time. But it had been there that first time he had the doctor check me out because I heard him ask and heard the doctor tell him. At the time I didn't pay any attention, but later I added things up when the rechecks became so regular. So I'd never dared let a boy even finger me too much, much less shove a stiff cock up my cunt.
I felt the head of Tommy's stiff cock begin pressing against my Vaseline-coated asshole. Through his hands gripping my hips I could feel him trembling with eagerness. I tried to make the muscles in me there relax; instead they grabbed, tensing up involuntarily. Tommy eased off quickly.
"Shove it to me!" I snapped at him. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered breathlessly.
"I'll yell if you hurt me!" I promised.
"I don't want you to yell; someone might hear you," he hissed at me instantly.
"What're you whispering about?" I taunted.
"There's no one else in the house. Remember? And I won't yell loud enough for anyone outside to hear. Now shove it to me!"
Tommy shoved it to me! What a sensation! Was I ever thankful that Tommy's twelve-year-old cock was no thicker than it was. With all the Vaseline greasing the way and everything, it still felt like he was splitting my ass wide open. For an instant I wondered if all the instructions Mrs. Miller had given me had just been her way of getting even for the nasty surprise I'd given her and Ed by walking in on them. But then the protesting muscles guarding the entrance to my ass began to relax as Tommy started thrusting in and out of me. Suddenly it started feeling good. I could feel the head of his stiff cock stroking back and forth inside me and it felt almost like he was in my burning cunt. I decided maybe Mrs. Miller hadn't given me a bum steer after all. I put one hand to my pussy; I found it sopping wet with the slippery juice that comes from my cunt when it gets excited. I coated two of my fingers with it, then began petting my clitoris with them. Geronimo! Talk about sensation! That made Tommy's cock in my asshole feel really great to me. I began wiggling my ass a little and humping back against him.
Tommy had stopped worrying about hurting me. He was beginning to hammer his nail into my ass with growing enthusiasm. Over and over again he was saying, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" Every time he hit me with a new thrust, he said, "Oh boy!" again. And he wasn't whispering now. He was more like gasping or panting. And then that began sounding more like moaning.
Of course by then I was doing some moaning of my own. It was really beginning to feel great to me. I finally was getting an idea just how great it must feel to get fucked in the cunt. This still wasn't the real thing, but I knew it was the next best thing. I'd had my cunt licked a few times until I came, but I began feeling certain this was going to wind up giving me a far greater sensation.
My hand was wet with the slippery, hot juice drooling out of my tingling pussy. I'd never felt anything before like the charge of excitement that was building throughout my whole lower belly; even my tits were burning. I found myself wishing there was some way Tommy could keep on doing what he was doing and at the same time be sucking my tingling tits. Great Caesar's ghost, as my father always said, what a feeling! What a feeling!
Suddenly I just couldn't seem to stand any more of it; my whole lower belly began pulsating with frantically pumping muscles. I was coming like I'd never come before! Coming, coming, coming! I heard someone yelling, thought it was Tommy, then with a start of surprise realized it was me. But just about then Tommy began yelling. Not loud. It came out of him in short, explosive gasps. But it was a yell. And I could feel the pumping of his cock within the tight grip of my asshole as he came. He still didn't shoot any discharge that amounted to anything like older boys, but his pump worked just as hard and he seemed to enjoy it just as much.
Then right in the middle of that cyclone of great sensation, someone began hammering on the bathroom door and Mrs. McKenna's anxious voice called, "Tommy? Is that you in there, Tommy? Tommy, what's going on?"
Behind me, Tommy froze. He was like he'd suddenly turned to stone. It was probably just as well. I called, "It's not Tommy, Mrs. Mc-Kenna. It's me!"
"Trina? What on earth are you doing, child?"
Wheels spun in my head, then without even time for conscious thought I was calling back, "I was taking an enema and I didn't get the water quite the right temperature and Great Caesar! what a surprise that gave me!"
"You're all right then?"
"I'm all right," I assured her. "But I'll never do that again! Next time I'll give the bulb just a little squeeze, make sure the temperature's right before I give it a big, hard squeeze."
"Do you know where Tommy is?"
"Gosh, no, I really don't," I called innocently. I was getting over the scare she'd given me at first. Suddenly as I was telling his mother I had no idea where he was, I gave my ass a wiggle against his still rigid cock. I had to pull the hand away from my pussy and clap it over my mouth to suppress a giggle.
There was silence for a moment. I expect her woman's intuition was probably trying to tell her something, but fortunately Mrs. McKenna was pretty innocent and not as suspicious as the mothers of some kids I've known. Finally she called, "If Tommy does come home while I'm gone, will you please tell him to stay home until I get back? I've got to run to the store and get some things for supper. And I hope you didn't hurt yourself. Maybe I should call the doctor and have him examine you ? You sounded like you were in real pain."
"No, no," I called, sudden alarm flashing through me at her suggestion of calling the doctor. "I'm fine, believe me. If I'd known someone else was in the house, I'd never have made a sound. I thought I was all alone, so I just sort of turned loose and yelled because I didn't think it mattered. But I'm all right, really. And I'll tell Tommy."
CHAPTER TWO
My cunt was still a virgin, technically speaking, as I've already told you, when I started my freshman year at County High School in our county seat town, Medicine Hat, Wyoming. So when other girls were sharing stories about their sexual adventures, I just sat and listened and burned. Some of them had started sexual explorations while they'd been little kids in grade school. But not me! It takes help to have real sexual experience.
My prospects of getting any of that help in high school soon began looking just as nonexistent as they'd been at the little country grade school I'd attended. Other girls had gotten their first fuck in the school horsebarn, but never me.
My father was the reason. He'd been an old man when he married my mother, but there'd been nothing feeble about the reputation he carried as a dangerous man to cross. My mother'd died birthing me and fourteen more years had passed, but my father's reputation was just as impressive as ever. While I was in the seventh grade, he'd put a hay hand forty years younger than he was into the hospital, on the critical list for several days, even though the younger man outweighed Father by nearly one hundred pounds. And the rustlers he caught on his range never were lucky enough to just wind up in the hospital; they always went to the morgue.
Oh, I had plenty of dates after I got to high school. I don't mean to even imply that I was a wallflower, because I'm pretty, if I do say so myself. And I've been assured by many fellows that I'm a lot of fun to be around. All I'm saying is that all the fellows who took me out were always as proper in the way they treated me as if Father had been right there in the car with us.
That's the way things were when we got the first heavy snow of that fall. I'd been driving back and forth from home to school and back each day, nearly one hundred miles round trip. But as happens many times in Wyoming, that first storm of the season was a big one. The roads were closed before school ever let out.
Father phoned me at school; he'd made arrangements for me to room and board with the preacher's family on a regular basis until spring. I could drive back and forth from home whenever the weather permitted, but he'd arranged to pay Mrs. McKenna a flat rate, whether I stayed in the room and took my meals with her family or not.
I won't pretend Father's arrangement thrilled me. The McKennas were new in the community, but I knew their only son was a kid two years younger than I was. He was more than a head taller than I, but the difference in age put him in the shrimp class in my book.
However, Tommy McKenna turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Even though he was younger, when I got stuck on a math problem, I discovered Tom could show me how to solve it like it was simple arithmetic.
That mind of Tom's, plus the way he was built, made it easy for me to forget how much younger he was. Other things about him pleased me, too, like the way I'd catch him staring at my breasts sometimes when neither his father or mother were around. Before long there began being more and more times when I could completely forget there was any difference in our ages.
But nothing might have ever come of it if an unexpected storm hadn't marooned Tom's parents in Cheyenne one day. The weather had been so good I'd been driving back and forth from the ranch for several days, so I didn't know they were out of town. Before school let out, however, it was storming, and I knew Father wouldn't want me trying to make the drive to the ranch. So I drove to the parsonage instead. When I opened the garage door to put my car away, I had a premonition. The preacher's car was often gone when I got back from high school, but this time I suddenly knew something was different. A wild, thrilling surge of strange hope flashed through me.
Tom opened the door of the house to me. Obviously he had been waiting there, watching for me. He took the load of books out of my arms and stood holding them while I shook off the snow. His eyes seemed strangely bright, strangely full of yearning, strangely hopeful, strangely excited. He went to put my books on the kitchen table while I closed the door from the back porch. We turned back to each other at the same instant. That bright look of excitement in his eyes had grown even brighter.
I smiled and asked, "What's on your mind, Tom?" He liked it because I'd started calling him Tom instead of Tommy, like his mother and father and nearly everyone else did. It seemed to help him feel I'd come to accept him as more than just a little boy. His eyes thanked me every time I did it; they thanked me now.
Then he asked, "You're staying here tonight?"
That same strange thrill I'd felt in the garage flashed through me again. It left me feeling a little breathless. I said, "Of course. Why?"
"My parents may not be able to get back home, the way it's storming," Tom told me, obviously feeling that was exciting news. "They went to a church meeting in Cheyenne. We'll more than likely be here all alone together."
I said, "You could call one of the church ladies and ask her to come stay with us, if you'd like."
"What about you?" he demanded instantly.
"Is that what you'd rather for me to do?"
"I didn't say that."
He frowned, suddenly looking troubled. "That's exactly the kind of thing my mother may do, if the phone lines from Cheyenne are still up. I hope they aren't."
"Why don't you try to place a call to the hotel or wherever they planned to stay?" I suggested. "You'll soon find out that way."
Five minutes later Tom turned from the phone, a strange look of vast relief on his face. He murmured, in an imitation of an operator's voice, "I'm sorry, sir; all lines to Cheyenne are temporarily out of order."
We exchanged a knowing smile, as if we'd both planned this whole thing. In our imaginations perhaps we had.
Suddenly I realized I was still standing there in my heavy coat. I started to take it off and Tom came to me from the phone, moving very quickly, to help me with it. He was still only a kid, despite his size, but he had the manners of a real gentleman. That was one of the things I'd gotten to really like about him; the way he always treated me made me feel like someone really special.
I also knew, however, that because of that same genteel way of his, if anything exciting was ever to happen between us two, I'd have to be the aggressor. Suddenly I couldn't wait to start aggressing.
When Tom turned back to me from hanging my coat up in the kitchen closet, I smiled and wrinkled my nose at him as I murmured, "I've always envied married people when the weather's like this."
"What do you mean?" Tom asked, sounding breathless.
"It's so blamed cold, having to sleep alone on a night like tonight's going to be," I said in what I hoped was a sexy-sounding whisper. "Do you ever think about... that?"
Tom looked surprised. He swallowed hard. Then he nodded, looking self-conscious, and admitted, "Sometimes I don't seem able to think about anything else." He blushed and looked at the floor suddenly. Yes, he knew exactly what I'd meant.
I asked, "Do you like me, Tom?"
He swallowed hard again. He glanced up at me, instantly started to look away, then caught himself. With obvious effort he forced himself to look back directly at me as he told me, "Better than I've ever liked anyone else in my whole life before."
"You haven't minded, having to help me with my homework?" I persisted. "You don't sometimes think I'm too stupid to be exciting?"
"Lord, no!" Tom exclaimed in an explosive gasp. Then his eyes seemed to be drawn downward from my face to my full breasts, like steel being drawn to a magnet. I might have been only fourteen, but I had a pair of boobs that already had caused many grown women to give me secret looks of envy.
I raised my hands, cupping my breasts in them. Then I asked, "Do you like the way I look... here?"
Tom gulped. He seemed unable to speak. He nodded emphatically.
"Would you like to see me? Really see me... here?" I wiggled my breasts back and forth slightly. I felt my nipples start to pucker; they grew hard with excitement.
A low, sighing moan came from Tom. "Would I ever!" he murmured. "I lay awake nights wondering how you'd really look... naked." He blushed again and looked down at the floor, sounding almost desperate to get the words out as he added, "I'll bet all of you... is as beautiful... as your face and eyes and hair... and all."
"Would you like to see?"
Again he nodded emphatically, as if his throat felt paralyzed and mute.
I reached up under the pullover sweater I was wearing, hands behind my back, and unhooked my bra. Then I walked over to Tom. I put my back against his front, lifted his hands, and cupped them around my sweater-covered boobs. He found his voice and breathlessly murmured, "Oh, boy!"
I had a devilish impulse; I rubbed my ass back and forth, slowly, against his crotch. I could distinctly feel the rigid lump his hard penis was raising in the front of his pants. Another gasping, "Oh, boy!" came out of him.
I then took one of his hands and moved it under my sweater. Under my loose bra. When I cupped it around my naked breast, I felt Tom begin to tremble. Innocently I murmured, "Don't you like the way that feels?"
There was a strangled sound in it now as again Tom gasped, "Oh, boy!"
I let him stand there holding my naked boob for a moment. He was trembling harder the longer he held it. Finally I whispered, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
Tom's lips were almost against my left ear.' His breath upon my ear was strangely exciting as he murmured tensely, "I feel like... I'm going to... explode... or something!"
I pressed my ass back into him harder. I began twisting my hips again, making my ass rub back and forth against Tom's hard cock. Suddenly a strangled cry came out of him. His arms and hands clutched me, pulling me against him even harder. His hips began a series of fast, hard, thrusting movements.
I was new to this game too, but I knew instantly what had happened; I'd teased poor Tom so much he was coming in his pants! Just the thought of what was happening to him sent a wave of passion roaring through me like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was the greatest feeling I'd ever experienced.
I was still so green about things sexual that I really didn't know exactly what I did have down there between my legs; whatever it was, I suddenly felt it begin drooling, a strange flow of hot juices oozing from it into my panties. My whole crotch area seemed to be burning up with a yearning, hungry kind of excitement. Now I started trembling, exactly like I'd felt Tom trembling.
As abruptly as he'd started it. Tom stopped thrusting against my ass; his arms and hands suddenly relaxed too. I turned, looking up into his face. He turned his face away, looking ashamed.
"What's wrong, darling?" I whispered. "Don't laugh at me, please, Trina," he muttered.
"Why on earth would I laugh? Didn't that feel good?"
"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed. "Did it ever!"
"Will you help me do it too?" I made my voice sound slightly pleading.
That brought Tom's eyes back to mine. He stared at me unbelievingly for an instant, then demanded, "What?"
"I want to do what you just did," I said eagerly. "Will you please help me?"
Obviously amazed, Tom demanded, "You don't think I acted like some dumb little kid?"
"I can't wait to do the same thing," I insisted. "Will you please help me?"
Suddenly Tom's whole face lit up with the biggest, most relieved smile I've ever seen. "Oh, boy!" he exclaimed.
I raised my sweater and my bra with it until my naked breasts were revealed to his bugging eyes. "Kiss and suck them for me, please?" I murmured. "I think that'll make me do it like you just did."
"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed explosively and licked his lips, obviously filled with a sudden, burning hunger. "Oh, boy!" he repeated, starting to sink into a crouch before me to bring his lips down to the level of my excited nipples.
But I had a sudden inspiration. "Let's go in on the sofa," I suggested and turned toward the swinging door to the front of the house. Mutely Tom followed as I led the way.
As we went to the front room, I glanced outside through the windows we passed; the snow was falling so heavily outside that visibility had been cut to a few feet beyond the windows. When we reached the front room, I found the two big trees near the front sidewalk were hardly visible; the street beyond them had disappeared, swallowed up in the white void of falling snow.
Now I'll make no pretense that I'd ever felt particularly wild about seeing a blizzard picking up momentum. I never had. Never before. But this was different. Now the sight of that worsening storm outside made me almost sing for joy. No one would be interrupting my explorations into the mysteries and wonders of sex. Because of that wonderful storm outside, all my dreaming and wondering about it, all my curiosity and frustration caused by it, was about to become part of the past. At long last I had my chance to find out what sex was all about.
Reaching the comfortable front room sofa, I turned to glance behind. Tom was following me eagerly. I said, "The storm seems to be getting worse. Aren't we lucky?"
"Do you really think so?" he asked breathlessly.
"What?" I asked in surprise.
"I thought you'd probably think I was terrible if you knew how long I've been wishing for something like this," Tom told me rather sheep- ishly.
I cupped my breasts in my hands again as I told him teasingly, "I think you're so terrible I'm going to smother you between these. Doesn't that frighten you?"
"Oh, boy! "Tom gulped.
I let myself slump down upon the sofa and held my arms up to him, wagging my fingers as I told him, "Come to me, lover man."
Tom fell to his knees on the floor just in front of the sofa, reached for both my breasts with his hands, then hesitated. "I still can't believe it," he murmured.
I pulled my sweater and bra up again and thrust my naked breasts out at him proudly as I whispered, "Feeling is believing. Believe it!"
"Oh, boy!" Tom said again in a strangled voice. Then his unsure but hungry hands cupped themselves around my breasts. I felt my nipples grow harder in response to his touch. My whole body seemed to suddenly be tingling. I felt very warm and very happy and breathlessly excited.
"Kiss them," I whispered, putting my hands on Tom's curly-haired head. "Suck them and love them and show them you really like them."
Tom's lips and throat moved, but no sound came. Suddenly he thrust his face forward, burying it between my breasts. Then his head turned slightly and I felt his feverish lips close hungrily upon my left nipple and suck it into his mouth greedily. A groan burst out of me as a flood of sensation like I'd never felt before roared through me. My fingers clutched his hair.
"Oh, boy!" I gasped. Now I was doing it too. Breathing raggedly I asked, "Can you do both of them together?"
Tom's gentle hands pressed my breasts close together, then his fantastic lips were drawing both my nipples into his hot mouth, his tongue licking between them and around them eagerly. I'd never felt anything like it before. It wasn't just twice as good as when he'd merely been caressing one nipple. The sensation was four times as intense, or more. My blood suddenly seemed like streams of fire rushing through my body. Tom's words flashed back through my mind, I feel like I'm going to explode... or something! That's exactly how I was feeling now. Like I was going to explode or die or something! It felt so good. But with it came an almost overwhelming need to feel him between my legs.
Abruptly I pushed Tom away. He stared at me, eyes wide with surprise and sudden fear, then gasped, "Did I hurt you?"
"Lay down on the floor!" I gasped, too filled with excitement and urgency to take any time explaining.
Tom flopped over on the floor and stretched out. Before his legs were straightened, I was astraddle him. I leaned over him, swinging my shoulders so that my nipples brushed back and forth across his lips. He raised his hands, caught my breasts between them, and sucked both nipples back into his hungry mouth. I groaned and thrust down against him, slamming my lower body against his, rubbing them together.
That did it! My body seemed to be on fire. A strange, delightful pressure was skyrocketing within my lower body. Then it burst! My senses reeled. I felt I was on the verge of blacking out. In the far distance, it seemed, I heard someone crying and moaning; then I abruptly realized it was me.
Finally the whirlwind of sensation quieted and slowly ebbed away, leaving me feeling weak and slightly disorientated. Faintly I heard Tom's voice asking anxiously, "Did you like that?"
I had to try three times before I could make the muscles of my throat respond properly to utter just one word, "Wonderful!" I was breathless, gasping.
"It really felt good?" he persisted.
I nodded wearily and repeated, "Wonderful!"
"The way you yelled, I got scared it was hurting," Tom declared.
"Wonderful!" I murmured again, then slumped forward on top of him and let myself roll loosely off him to the floor beside him. I lay there as limp as a sack of meal, struggling for breath like I'd been running.
After a few moments I suddenly felt Tom's uncertain hand touch me lightly on the bare skin of my inner thigh above my hose; I realized my skirt must be hiked up around my hips, but the wonderful thing was that it didn't matter. And another amazing and wonderful thing was that instead of being numb, after all the sensation I'd just enjoyed, I found the touch of his hand there felt surprisingly good. I knew if his hand caressed me there just a little it would begin building a fresh charge of that terrific excitement within me. I moaned softly.
That seemed to encourage Tom. His hand began rubbing the inside of my thigh slowly, moving slowly higher. Then his wonderful, searching fingertips touched my crotch, only the sheer material of my panties between his caressing fingers and my hot, wet flesh. I gasped, then let my sharply drawn breath sigh slowly out in a low moan.
"You're sopping wet," Tom declared in a surprised tone. "Do girls spurt stuff like guys do when they get older?"
"I don't know what girls or guys do," I whispered. "This is the first time I ever did anything like this."
"Me too," Tom said, "but I know when a guy gets just a little older than I am, he starts shooting stuff when he comes. Some of the older guys at school tell about having jacking-off contests... seeing which one can shoot stuff the farthest."
"You don't shoot stuff?" I asked, my breathing finally beginning to quiet.
"Not yet," Tom said. "But I think the feeling I get is just as neat as what older guys say they get."
All the time he had kept on gently petting my sensitive crotch. Sensation was really beginning to billow up again within me, and feverish excitement with it. I thrust upward with my hips against Tom's gentle hand, then sighed, "That's marvelous."
"What?"
"That you don't shoot stuff," I told him. "Why?" Tom wondered.
"We won't have to worry about you making me pregnant, silly."
"You mean you'll let me--" Tom broke off as if afraid to put his hope into words.
"Don't you want to?" I teased.
"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed, as if other words were beyond him just then. His now not so gentle hand was rubbing my crotch with almost frantic speed, as if it was something he had set into motion, then forgotten as the spell of a greater fascination seized him. But it felt good. I gave another upward thrust with my hips against his hand.
"I'm ready whenever you are," I told him.
"I'm ready!" Tom exclaimed instantly. He jerked his hand away from my crotch, grabbed the top of his trousers with one hand, the zipper of his fly with the other, and jerked the zipper down. The weary languor I'd felt only a moment before had vanished. I reached down, hooked my thumbs in the top of my panties, and skinned them downward over my hips and on off my legs. Then I fell back upon the rug, spread my legs invitingly wide, and closed my eyes, waiting expectantly while Tom got his pants and shorts off.
CHAPTER THREE
I felt so filled with happiness and excitement I thought I might just start to float away if Tom didn't hurry and get on top of me to hold me down. What was taking him so damned long? I opened my eyes to find out. Tom was standing over me, his pants and shorts dropped around his knees, his eager young cock thrust out proudly rigid before him looked beautifully ready. But he was frowning, a strange look in his eyes.
"What the hell's wrong?" I snapped. "What're you waiting for? I feel so hot I can't stand it!"
"But what about--" Tom broke off uncertainly.
"What about what?" I demanded impa- tiently.
"If your father finds out? What'll he do to me?"
I'd wondered whether or not the McKennas had been in town long enough yet to have heard about my father's reputation. It was obvious' now that they had.
"Isn't he liable to cut my thing off and skin me alive?" Tom persisted. "Maybe even kill me?"
I groaned in disappointement. I wanted to cuss Tommy out for being a gutless, snot-nosed kid. But fair's fair and not one of the boys I'd dated since school began had ever gone as far with me as Tom had this afternoon.
But I was still too filled with disappointment to be kind about it. I snapped, "All right! If you're afraid to fuck it, then kiss it, damn you! There's no way my father can ever find out if all you do is kiss it and lick it good for me!"
I scrambled up off the floor, rushed to the sofa, and threw myself on it with my ass out on the very edge of the cushion and my legs spread wide, naked and inviting, my clothes pulled up above my hips. I was ready. But Tom just stood staring like he'd turned to stone. I snapped, "Well?"
"Kiss it?" Tom murmured, his voice small and tight.
"Yes, kiss it, damn it!" I demanded.
"But you pee through that, don't you?"
"Maybe you think I don't wash myself off and wipe good every time after I pee?" I answered. "Maybe you think I'm too filthy dirty for you to even touch?"
"I don't think anything like that!" Tom cried, his anguished-sounding words rushing from him. "You're beautiful and sweet and--"
"Then kiss me, damn it!" I yelled at him. "Kiss me and lick me and love me and send me to heaven with your tongue, if you're afraid to use your cock!"
Tom fell to the floor between my legs upon his knees, his eyes looking glazed, like someone who had been hypnotized. Without further hesitation, he thrust his face straight into the curly bush of my pubic hair and blindly started kissing the hair. He knew even less about what was hidden under that curly muff than I did, but he was my obedient slave, trying his best to do what I'd ordered.
I opened my legs even wider, craning my neck to look down at that bush Tom was kissing. I saw the curly foliage separate and a steaming valley open in the forest. Tom paused in his blind kissing, staring in amazement at this revelation I'd opened before his very eyes. Suddenly he glanced up at me, his eyes wide with wonder. He murmured, "You smell beautiful! Delicious! Is that what I ought to kiss and lick?"
"Try it," I urged. "I don't know. No one ever did anything like this to me before."
Tom smiled suddenly, looking eager and delighted. "I'm so glad!" he exclaimed. "You tell me where it feels good. I'll kiss you and lick you and love you anywhere you want. You just tell me."
"I'll tell you, I'll tell you!" I promised. I felt like I might vanish in a cloud of smoke if he didn't get his mouth on that mysterious slit of mine to cool it off.
But when Tom's lips and tongue touched the burning lips of my bare cunt, they just got hotter! I'd never felt anything like it. .Suddenly I felt real fear I might be blasting right out of my mind, there was such an overwhelming tidal wave of sensation roaring through me. Almost before I knew what was happening, all the muscles throughout my entire lower belly were pulsating frantically as I began coming so hard it seemed to me it surely would tear my body apart. But if it killed me, I knew I was going to die supremely happy. I didn't make a single move to stop the wonderful things Tom's lips and tongue were doing to me down there. If death was the price, I was willing, eager, and ready to pay in full, just so long as he didn't stop doing what he was doing as long as I still had any remaining sense of feeling.
It was wild and wonderful and unbelievable! It went on and on and on, seeming to get even more intense the longer it lasted. My senses were reeling. I seemed to begin slipping in and out of consciousness. Then abruptly Tom stopped, jerking his head up, taking his wonderful mouth and tongue away from my trembling cunt. I tried to scream, but my throat was so constricted with my passion that only a whisper came as I protested, "Don't stop!"
Then I heard the squeaking crunch of footsteps on the snow-covered front porch steps. Tom went scrambling toward the kitchen, pulling up his shorts and pants as he went. I started after him, remembered my discarded panties, and scrambled back to grab them frantically. Feet were stamping upon the porch. I saw the front doorknob turning. I was caught! But the door was locked, fortunately. As a key rattled in the lock, I made it through the swinging door into the kitchen.
.I found Tom jerking his pants zipped closed. He glanced up at me, eyes frightened, and whispered, "What'll we do?"
"Go wash your face in cold water," I snapped urgently. "Pretend like you've just been using the bathroom. Act just like you would any other time."
I grabbed my schoolbooks from the kitchen table and scooted up the backstairs on tiptoe to the room I used. As I reached the head of the stairs, the front door slammed downstairs, then Tom's mother called cheerfully, "Are you home, Tommy?"
As if her call was a cue, a sound came of the downstairs toilet being flushed, followed by Tom's surprised call, "Is that you, Mother?"
I crept on to the door of my room, opened it carefully, slipped inside and closed it behind me. Then I had to hurry to the bed and drop my books on it before I dropped them on the floor. I sat down, feeling spent physically but charged emotionally. Charged with frustration and fury. Everything had seemed so perfect. What had gone wrong?
Then in the distance I heard the wail of a train whistle and knew what had happened. When she couldn't get through to one of the church ladies on the phone, Tom's mother had taken the train home. Silently I cursed her.
CHAPTER FOUR
I'd never realized a physical need could be so intense as the need I felt just to touch Tom again as we sat across the table from each other eating supper. His mother was babbling on about their trip to Cheyenne and about the sudden fury of the unexpected storm. Whenever she left the table, turning her back on us, I thrust one of my knees forward under the table as far as I could to briefly touch one of Tom's. I could tell by the look in his eyes he felt the need as intensely as I did, but each time he shook his head, eyes fixed fearfully upon his mother's back.
Finally when she stepped into the pantry to get some cookies to go with the pudding she'd made for dessert, Tom hissed, "I'll see you later. When Mother's asleep!"
"You don't have nerve enough," I hissed back.
That brought a sudden bright flash of hurt to his eyes. A glint of anger followed it almost immediately as he snapped, "You'll see!"
There hadn't been time for what I'd said to have been premeditated, but I realized I'd stung his pride. The smoldering frustration still weighing heavily within me began to feel a little lighter. I began remembering the sweet ecstasy the feeling of Tom's sweet mouth created, filling my hungry inner emptiness. I began feeling feverish and excited just thinking about it. Mingled with that was a growing hopefulness, an expectancy; he'd virtually promised I could expect a visit from him in my bedroom just as soon as his mother was sleeping soundly.
The weight of smoldering frustration suddenly gave way completely before a bubbling feeling of joyful excitement that had me wanting to jump up from the table to skip and yell and sing. I felt so full of high spirits it seemed I might burst, and that reminded me sharply of that other kind of deliciously uncontainable pressure and the tidal wave of its bursting. The clean panties I'd put on grew as saturated with the hot juices of my inner excitement as the other pair had when Tom was kissing my nipples, I got up abruptly, excused myself quickly and hurried upstairs to my room, afraid Tom's mother might see the flush I knew had come to my cheeks. I didn't want anything raising suspicions in her mind that might keep her from dropping off to sleep just as quickly as possible. She always complimented my good judgment when I passed up sweets and desserts, so I knew she'd think nothing special about my leaving the table at that point in the meal. And who needed sweets to eat when they had a promise of the sweet ecstasy I was now looking forward to? Not me! It was a wild, wonderful feeling.
I couldn't just sit and wait while the evening hours dragged out; I knew that would only make them endless. So I tried to settle myself to my homework, but my mind seemed to have room in it for thoughts of only one thing. I fought to block out thoughts of Tom and of my sexual excitement and of my frustrated fury when his mother made her unexpected appearance; but they kept slipping back to play through my mind again and again like broken records.
Finally I gave up the battle, slipped my clothes off, and got into bed. For a few minutes I had no problem with my mind; the cold of those sheets against my nude body washed it clean of everything except awareness of that cold. I wrapped myself into a tight knot and lay huddled under the covers until my body heat began to drive the cold away.
I lay there in the dark quiet of my room listening to the low wail of the snow-filled wind outside and to the sounds inside the house, coming from downstairs. It was an ideal night to be very close to another warm human being, to be held in his arms and to hold him. Instead of the frustrated fury I had first felt, I now felt a sweet and quiet sadness as I mourned the idyllic night Tom and I might have spent together, sealed off by the storm from any world but the one in which we were the only two inhabitants.
Then the time finally came when I heard footsteps on the front stairs, heard upstairs closet doors opening and being closed, the upstairs toilet being flushed, the sounds of Tom and his mother moving around their bedrooms preparing to retire. All thoughts containing even the slightest degree of sadness vanished; trembling anticipation began growing again within me. My whole bed, from one edge to the other, became filled with an almost summerlike pleasantness from the glowing heat that radiated from my inner excitement.
I heard Tom's mother call, "Goodnight, son," as the squeak of bedsprings came distantly from her room at the other end of the upstairs hallway. The door of her bedroom was practically always wide open, allowing sounds from there to be heard at least faintly in any other upstairs room, as well as giving her ears access to all but the most guarded sounds from any of the other rooms.
Occasionally, however, I'd gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night and discovered her bedroom door tightly closed. Usually it was a night just before the preacher was scheduled to leave on a trip to preach in some other town. I'd gotten the idea his wife figured it was a matter of good feminine strategy to as nearly as possible drain a husband sexually before such departures. It seemed to me there might be more than mere coincidence behind her husband's filling so many such invitations.
It seemed to take an age, but finally I heard the faint, distant snoring that signaled the de- parture of the mistress of the manse from the world of consciousness. I then lay waiting with rising impatience for Tom's appearance. Could he, in contrast to my torrid expectations, have felt so little interest that he'd dropped off to sleep while waiting? Just the suggestion started fury rising within me. Then the low sound of the latch of my door being drawn reached through the darkness to me. I raised up, propping myself upon one elbow, and saw my door swing open cautiously. All feelings within me except excited expectancy had vanished.
As Tom slipped from the hallway, amazement shot through my excitement. He was fully clad in heavy pajamas. Instantly, however, I realized it was ridiculous of me to expect he would make even the short trip from his room to mine in the nude. No one who lived in this house ever traipsed around that way. But when he came to the edge of my bed, raised the covers, and started to slip into bed with me without first removing his night clothing, I protested, "You can't really mean you intend to get into bed with me with all your clothes on?"
Tom glanced down at the front of himself as if surprised, then exclaimed, "But these are my pajamas."
"I know," I nodded.
"But I always sleep in pajamas," he protested.
"But you're not getting into bed with me to sleep, exactly," I reminded him.
He stood staring down at me for a moment, then asked, "Isn't it awfully cold in a bed with- out pajamas?"
"Not when I'm in the bed with you," I murmured.
Still he hesitated, acting as if getting into a bed without pajamas was an amazing idea. Suddenly I threw the covers back enough to expose one shoulder and breast, demanding, "Don't you want to feel me close to you?"
Tom gulped, then muttered, "Oh, boy!"
I persisted, "How can you expect to really feel me next to you if we had all that heavy pa-jama stuff between us?"
That did it. Tom jerked the pajamas off as if they suddenly had become unbearably cold. He dropped them on the floor and jumped into bed. I welcomed him with open arms, hugged him close, plastering my naked flesh against his. That brought another soft; "Oh, boy!" out of Tom. Then he was hugging me close too. I could feel the rigid hardness of his young penis sandwiched between our bellies. Tom might have been young and he might have been on the shy side, but he was ready.
I took one of my arms away from around him, opened enough space between our bodies to let my hand reach in between them and gently grip his penis. As my fingers closed upon it, Tom gustily whispered, "Oh, boy!" I felt shivers that were not from the outside cold rippling through his body as I caressed his hardness. Then I moved my fingers downward farther and caressed his young balls. That made Tom draw his breath inward sharply.
Then he abruptly ducked his head under the covers and found one of my excited, eager breasts with his mouth. That brought a gasp out of me. A fine tingling seemed to flash from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. Then I felt Tom's fingers beginning to caress my lower belly. That intensified the tingling the feeling of his mouth on my nipples had started. I tipped my pelvis, pushing upward toward his hand, inviting it to move lower.
Tom's gentle fingers moved down into my delta of short, curly hair. They found my hot lower lips hiding beneath that hair. The wave of sensation his touch there gave me brought a moan out of me. Suddenly I was filled with too much impatience to take time for any more of these preliminaries. I wanted the feeling of his hardness filling my inner emptiness. I brought the head of Tom's cock to those concealed lower lips of mine which his fingers had just then started to explore. I rubbed the head of his cock deeper into their hot moistness than Tom's finger had yet ventured. That drew another whispered gasp of, "Oh, boy!" from Tom.
Since then I've read what all the books say about a woman's need for more time to become aroused than a man requires; experience has proven that those rules like all others are very, very general. Women vary. Different times are different, too. That time I was more completely aroused than Tom was. That quickly became obvious. I felt I simply couldn't deny myself the feeling of Tom's beautiful hardness inside my hungry cunt one minute longer. There was room in my mind for only one thought: I was going to fuck him and get fucked, and I was going to do it right now! I climbed astride of him, pushing him over flat on his back. I reached down between my legs, gently but firmly gripped Tom's gorgeous hardness and brought the head of it back to the slippery lips of that hot, hungry lower mouth of mine.
It seemed amazing to me, right then, that I'd actually owned that secret mouth so many years, yet never before had ever fed it anything, never before had actually realized just how intensely hungry it could feel. I began eagerly to make little pumping movements with my hips, starting to actually work Tom's wonderful hardness into those greedy lips of mine. But Tom surprised me, turning himself under me suddenly, jerking his hard cock away from my drooling pussy and out of the light grip of my guiding hand. "What're you doing?" he hissed up at me. "You want your father to kill me? Or don't you care what happens to me?"
I didn't try to argue the matter. Instantly I said, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry! I just got carried away! You feel so wonderful. So exciting. I couldn't think."
"I'll kiss you again like I did this afternoon," Tom proposed, "if you'll do it the same way for me. I won't be in you where you want me, down there, but at least I'll be in you. In your mouth."
That didn't strike me as the greatest idea I'd ever heard. He'd be in me, of course, but my mouth wasn't where I was burning to have the feeling of his hardness going into me. But having his mouth and tongue on my cunt hadn't been bad at all. In fact, it had been the greatest feeling I'd ever experienced. I just felt certain that having his stiff cock shoved into my cunt to its roots would feel even greater. But I'd already learned that in this life we frequently have to settle for something second best. That we're frequently damned lucky to be able to enjoy even a good second best.
At that time I'd never heard of 69 having any meaning other than being the number that followed 68 and immediately preceded 70. But the position we needed to get into to do what Tom had suggested was obvious, inexperienced though I was. I started to tell Tom, but just then the light blazed on. I glanced around; his mother was standing in the hall doorway.
"What are you doing?" she demanded shrilly, accusingly.
"Trying to smooth out a lump in my mattress," I told her, then raised my voice insistently, "Will you please turn out that light and close my door?!"
She acted as if my tone of voice startled her, staring at me in surprise for a moment. Then she declared, "But Tommy isn't in his room!"
"Maybe he went downstairs for something," I suggested. "Please turn off my light and close my door!"
It almost worked. She reached for the light switch and started slowly backing out the doorway. But abruptly she stopped. She glanced at the floor beside my bed. When she brought her eyes up again they were flashing as she sud- denly pointed, exclaiming, "Those are Tommy's pajamas there on the floor."
"I borrowed them, but they're too hot and too confining," I snapped.
But I wasn't shaking her off the scent with mere words now. She came striding toward my bed, announcing, "You throw those covers back and let me see that lump, or I'll pull them down and look for myself, young lady!"
I grabbed the top edge of the covers, ready to resist her if she attempted suiting action to her words. I demanded, "Are you saying you think Tom is here in my bed with me?"
"His pajamas are here beside your bed," she announced loudly, then stopped, snatched them up, and waved them in the air before me as if defying me to question their reality.
But I wasn't about to hand her the advantage of selecting the subject for our discussion. I demanded, "Do you have any idea what my father might do to Tom... maybe even to Tom's father... if he ever heard even a whisper of a thing like you just said?"
A flicker of alarm went through her outraged eyes. The preacher's family might not have been long-time residents, but I knew they'd heard of my father's reputation for violence against those he considered had done him wrong. But Tom's mother wasn't easily turned aside.
"Tommy, I want you to get out of that awful girl's bed this very instant!" she called, suddenly ignoring my presence as if I didn't exist.
"If Tom came into my room, took his pajamas off, got into my bed," I shot at her, "you'd never convince my father Tom wasn't responsible for everything that happened. You'd better forget that wild idea and go look for Tom downstairs."
"Downstairs?"
"Probably raiding the refrig," I nodded.
She stood staring down at me, obviously undecided what to do. Finally she declared, "Even if I do find him downstairs, you can't stay here in our house after tonight."
"My father makes it awfully hard on people who take his money, then turn around and want to back out on their end of a deal for no good reason," I reminded her. "What'll you tell him?"
Mrs. McKenna dropped Tom's pajamas like they'd suddenly become unbearably hot. She backed to the doorway and paused there for a moment. There was not the tiniest ray of Christian charity in her glittering eyes as she stood there staring at me. She hated my guts! But she was afraid to risk doing anything about it. Suddenly she slammed the door and was gone.
I leaped out of my bed and sprinted to the door to listen. I heard her go tromping angrily to the front stairs and started down. I turned to hiss at Tom. "Have you got other pajamas in the linen closet in the bathroom?" I was sure he had. Tom still lay just where he'd been in my bed, staring at me, frozen by either fear or amazement. He did manage to nod, however.
"She didn't check the bathroom!" I snapped. "Get in there before she comes back upstairs. Get into another pair of pajamas. Pretend you were in there all the time. Move, damn it! And get your wits about you, unless you want this to be the last chance we ever get to have some fun together."
That snapped Tom out of it. He got from my bed into the upstairs bathroom in nothing flat. Almost instantly the sound of the toilet being flushed went through the house. From downstairs I heard his mother suddenly call, "Tommy?" Then I heard her rushing back upstairs. I rushed back to my bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers up. In the hallway outside my door there was a sudden murmur of her voice saying something I couldn't make out. But Tom's voice was very distinct as he demanded from the bathroom across the hallway, "What's bugging you, Mother? Is there some law against me getting up at night to have a bowel movement in here without coming to tell you about it first? Will you please stop worrying about me like I was some little kid in diapers and go back to bed? Please?"
His mother's voice raised, becoming intelligible although still guarded, as she insisted, "I want to see you first, son."
"Holy cow!" I heard Tom groan. "All right. Just a minute until I get wiped."
Sounding shocked, Mrs. McKenna protested, "Tommy! I didn't ask for a detailed description of everything."
"Just wanted you to understand why I have to keep you waiting in the cold there in the hallway, Mother," Tom's voice interrupted. Then the sound of the toilet being flushed came again. Silently I congratulated Tom on his perfor- mance. If he'd never lied before he met me, that preacher's son was learning quickly and well. I hoped he'd thought to rumple up the fresh pair of pajamas he'd put on; I knew that's what his mother was insisting on having a chance to check on.
I guess he did, because at breakfast next morning, Mrs. McKenna apologized to me and asked me to forget the things she'd said the night before. I accepted it with an air of injured innocence and suggested maybe I'd better ask my father to make other arrangements for me. Mrs. McKenna almost got tearful trying to persuade me that nothing of that kind was necessary.
From that day on, Tom and I were careful to seldom have a civil word for each other in his parents' presence; we often sounded like a sister and her younger brother the way we appeared to grate on each other. And it worked like a charm; before long it became obvious that Mrs. McKenna had completely forgotten whatever suspicions she might have once had about us.
So while Reverend McKenna was making pastoral calls and Mrs. McKenna was presiding over meetings of the Missionary Society, the Ladies' Aid, and what not, Tom and I rushed home from school every afternnon we knew they'd both be out, eager to do our special homework. He learned to lick my cunt as satisfactorily as any of the experts I've had eat my pussy since then. And I began learning some of the fine points of cock sucking. But that hunger to feel Tom's hardness inside me still persisted, regardless of how good we learned to make the oral sex for each other.
Then I got back to the ranch unexpectedly one afternoon, as I've told about earlier, and surprised Mrs. Miller and Ed Sands. That opened my mind to an investigation of the possible delights of asshole fucking, which Tom and I investigated extensively after that first time I've already told about. But I still hungered for the feel of his cock in my cunt. So we finally tried it.
CHAPTER FIVE
I thought I'd figured out a foolproof plan. I got Ed Sands to let me ride a green horse I knew would be sure to buck, one weekend that I spent at the ranch during a spell of beautiful, open weather. I made certain my father was nearby because I wanted him to see my ride, but I also was careful to not let him know in advance what I was up to because he probably would have forbidden it.
Before that ride was over, I'd gotten rid of that damned maidenhead my father'd been having our doctor keep such close tabs on. The crotch of my pants was bright red with blood when I got off that colt. Father saw it and began cussing Ed Sands out for having let me mount such a horse. Then he rushed me to town to see the doctor. It was comical, how concerned he was. You never saw anyone with such a long face as his was after the doctor confirmed the de- struction of that damned built-in tattletale that I'd kept so long. I wanted to yell and do something crazy to celebrate. But I held it in, willing to wait a little longer. I'd finally won this devious contest between my father and me, or so I then thought. I should have known my old man better.
Anyhow, Monday morning came and I drove back to town and another week of school. But I don't remember a thing that happened during school hours that week. What I'll always remember is the glorious fucking Tom and I crammed into every afternoon his folks were both gone and into every night without exception. It was heaven! Reverend McKenna was getting ready to be away for two weeks of evangelistic meetings, so the door to their room got closed every night. Like I said earlier, Mrs. McKenna seemed to have a thing about draining all the sexual desire she possibly could out of her husband before he left on such trips. When no such trip was in prospect, she might not give him any for two or three weeks at a stretch. But he had it made when he had preaching engagements that would take him out of town for even one night. When he was going to be gone for two whole weeks, she gave him the key to the mint. So that week she and her husband were much too busy every night to realize that Tom and I didn't spend any more time sleeping than they did.
What a week Tom and I had. But the first night, the very first time we ever got his hard cock in my ravenous cunt... that was the great- est! Because it was all so thrillingly new, so breathtakingly exciting!
Tom waited, his door open a crack, watching until the door of his folks' room was quietly but firmly closed that first night. From what he told me later, when we were laying in each other's arms laughing quietly about it, he nearly froze to death crouched there in the darkness waiting. But he wasn't complaining; he seemed to feel the discomfort he'd endured had been a small price. After that first night, Tom claimed he had no problem keeping warm while he waited for his parents' door to close; he just thought about how great it was going to be, in just a little while, when he was fucking me. After he'd experienced the reality, that first night, he could rerun the memory of it like a tape on a video-tape playback machine.
For my own part, I can still get myself steamed up playing back the memory of that night. Tom was such a cherry, so unsure about what he should do, yet so sweet and so eager when he finally got to my room and crawled into bed with me. He was shivering and his bare skin felt like ice, but I think it was his excitement and not the cold that had him so atremble. He wouldn't have remembered to lock my door, he was in such a rush to get to me, if I hadn't reminded him. I wasn't about to give his mother another chance to surprise me the way she had that first time I'd gotten Tom into my bed.
Lord, but he felt great against me, regardless of how cold his skin was. We wrapped our arms around each other and cold as he was, Tom had a hard-on that felt like a rock as our lower bellies pressed together, sandwiching it between them. That eager cock of his had grown considerably, I felt certain, in the weeks since Tom first fucked me in the ass; I know it had increased in size at least half again since the time I gave Tom his first blow job. I'd been making a man out of him in more ways than one. Use improves any tool. In almost no time Tom's body temperature was just as feverish as mine. Outside a Wyoming blizzard might have been blowing, but under those covers of my bed it was like a summer night in the tropics, a night made for love.
Tom suddenly drew away from me a little, ducked his head under the covers, cupped my naked boobs in his hands, then began licking and kissing them. Finally he sucked both excited nipples into his hot mouth together. Lord, what a wave of sensation that shot through me! I felt hot love honey begin gushing out of my box, drenching my curly muff and my upper thighs. I couldn't have been more superheated, more excited, if it had been my very first experiment with sex. Of course it was my very first ex-p e r i m e n t with actual fucking, with actual cunt-hole fucking instead of asshole fucking or the oral substitute. I'd never been more steamed up in my entire life. Tom pulled his hungry lips away from my burning titties long enough to gasp, "You're wonderful, Trina!"
I reached down and closed the fingers of one hand around his swollen cock as I told him breathlessly, "You're pretty wonderful your- self, sweetheart."
Then Tom went back to sucking at my tits like he was starving and they were pure sugar and quick energy. He may have been only a green kid, but that's better any time, night or day, than a bull-anxious clod like many college Casanovas I've found myself matched with since then. The athletic, campus-hero type and the older hard-sell sales types and big-man executives seem to be the poorest performers as lovers, judging by my personal experience. They all make the same mistake of coming on much too fast and in a way they evidently hope will seem overwhelming. Their idea of being a real man seems to be to overwhelm and subdue a sex partner. They act like sex is just another body-contact sport in which there has to be a winner and a loser, a victor and a defeated opponent.
What stupes! They obviously consider a girl or woman to be some inferior being created for them to use and humble. I think if that kind of male found himself forced to choose between being a terribly deformed male or being transformed into a physically perfect, beautiful woman, they'd prefer to exist as a pitiful cripple, but male; becoming a woman would be the worst fate that kind could imagine. Maybe that's why that type always tries so hard never to let himself get emotionally involved with any female, even the one they may finally marry. Those kind of bastards could all take lessons from Tom, however green and young he was. Like I've said, I'd been making a real he- man out of Tom in more ways than one. Tom had learned what being a real lover was all about.
As Tom sucked and caressed my tits, I began stroking the head of his cock through my steaming crack, bathing it in the flood of hot love honey flowing there. Lord, but that hard cock of his felt delicious to me there. I seemed able to enjoy the deliciousness of it throughout every individual cell in my entire body. My blood began feeling like it had turned to liquid fire. I found myself wondering whether it was possible to get so teased up and hot that it would become impossible to come? I groaned, thinking what delightful, agonizing, exquisite kind of torture such a condition might create.
Instantly Tom's mouth came away from my tits to whisper breathlessly, "Did my teeth hurt you?"
"I don't even know you have teeth!" I told him in sharp gasps. "Lordy, if someone lit a match right now, I think I could make an H-bomb explosion look like nothing bigger than a firecracker!"
"It's feeling good?" he whispered hopefully.
"You have to ask, you silly?" I teased.
Without warning Tom popped my tits back into his greedy mouth, sucking hard, nibbling my nipples just a little with his teeth. My head tipped back upon my shoulders like someone had grabbed my hair and jerked it hard; a long, low, strangled groan struggled out of me. For an instant I felt on the very edge of blacking out.
Desperately I thrust the head of Tom's beautifully rigid cock downward away from my clitoris into the slippery mouth of that tunnel of love in my lower body. My hips moved in a frantic lunge toward him, driven by pure instinct. Through the swirling cyclone of sensation roaring through my consciousness, I felt the deliciousness of Tom's hard cock slipping into my belly.
That was all it took! My question of an instant or so before, about whether I might get so hot it would become impossible to come, was gloriously answered! If such a thing as a double-barreled orgasm is possible, that's what the feeling of Tom's hardness starting into me triggered. As I've thoroughly explained, I was no stranger to the experience of orgasm, even though this was the very first time a male cock had been inside my cunt; but this orgasm was more than twice as great as any I'd enjoyed before. It had me teetering on the fine edge of a fall into nothingness. It seemed to go on and on and on for hours. It was excruciatingly wonderful, exquisitely delicious.
The next thing I became aware of was a feeling of smothering; I discovered I'd clapped my pillow over my head and even partly into my mouth, though I'd had no conscious thought of worrying about the sounds I might make. As I sucked breath deep into my lungs, I became aware of Tom's muffled groans, his mouth still full of my tits. He was humping his cock in and out of me frantically as we lay there side by side. Obviously he was on the verge.
If there's one thing I believed in even then, it's that one good fuck deserves another. I wrapped my arms and legs around Tom, gripping him to me tightly for just an instant, and turned myself to bring him astride me. I don't think he missed a stroke. But once he was on his hands and knees over me, he began putting a lot more power into every thrust and he began thrusting about three or four times faster. He acted like he thought my slippery cunt and his stiff cock were two sticks and he was a boy scout rubbing them together in a furious effort to start a fire. What delicious sparks of sensation Tom made fly! Almost faster than I can tell about it, Tom had kindled a whole new fire and had it roaring in my smoking cunt. Lord, what a fucking! Since then I've taken on some real experts, but not one of them has ever done a better job of giving me a really sensational screw than Tom did that very first time he got into my joybox.
A sharp groan came out of Tom like he was in real agony. I felt him begin to come, jets of his hot juices shooting off inside me, drenching my sensitive inner surfaces. It gave me a supercharge of sensation that blasted me off into the wildest orgasm I'd ever had overwhelm me. I still have no idea how long it actually lasted; it seemed to go on and on and on. During that time my whole world, the only world that I was aware of, was my own burning, throbbing cunt and Tom's thrusting, pulsating cock inside it. I even lost awareness of Tom's existence; only his hammering, pumping hardness inside my ravenous cunt really existed.
Since then I've heard many different girls and women brag about their multiple orgasms. I always feel sorry for them. I've had multiple orgasms, too. That kind is great, no argument about 'that, but is actually very superficial in the quality of sensation created. Compared, that is, to the trip I took on that single, long-lasting, excruciatingly intense orgasm triggered by the feeling of Tom coming inside me that very first time.
Finally Tom quit banging me. I don't know exactly when. My orgasm tapered off. I began coming back to a consciousness of more than my muscles squeezing relentlessly at his captive shaft of hardness. Tom had collapsed on top of me. We were both simmering in our own sweat, our hearts racing, our breath coming in gasps like we'd both had a long run. Come to think of it, I guess we had, though our feet hadn't been on the ground. Even so, Tom was still hard inside me. I was amazed to find that hardness still felt deliciously good to me. He turned himself until we again were side by side, still firmly coupled. It was another five minutes before his hardness wilted enough to cause his penis to slip out of me. Not more than another five minutes after that Tom had a brand new hard-on and was ready to go again.
Neither one of us seemed able to get enough of it. It was nearly dawn before Tom slipped back to his own room. Lord, but my bed suddenly seemed terribly empty when he was gone. I found myself feeling like I couldn't endure having Tom out of my sight. I wanted to say, "To hell with his father and mother!" Espe- daily his mother! I had to fight down an almost overwhelming urge to follow him down the hallway to his room and climb into bed with him. I felt I could never again go to sleep unless I was curled up in Tom's arms. I found myself worrying about whether or not Tom was feeling the same way. Was he missing me the same intense way I was missing him? I very nearly threw discretion to the wind and went rushing down that hallway to him to find out. I was in torment.
During that whole week the only reality Tom and I weren't out of touch with most of the time was the indescribably delicious reality of his hard cock stroking back and forth in my burning cunt. I expect we crammed more quality fucking into that one week than many mortals experience in an entire lifetime. More, maybe, than some experience within several lifetimes.
But early Saturday morning my old daddy showed up at the preacher's door. Only an hour before that, Tom's folks gave Tom and me a scare, almost catching Tom still in bed with me. Tom's dad had gotten up and gone to the bathroom across the hallway from my bedroom door, while Tom was still hammering the cock to me. We'd forgotten about his having to leave early that morning. And he nearly gave both of us heart failure. An hour later my dad showed up, wanting to know why I hadn't come home the evening before, the weather being as good as it was. He didn't seem to buy my explanation about needing to spend time in the library that weekend doing research on a project of special homework. Before noon, Daddy and I were on a plane headed for Los Angeles, the location of a strict parochial school for girls he'd enrolled me in. I thought the world had ended. Actually, exciting times were ahead.
CHAPTER SIX
My roommate in the girls' school was a senior named Laura. She was eighteen and just a shade taller than I am. She had a wonderful body, beautiful hair and complexion, and very attractive features. If there were any differences between us in our degree of attractiveness, I felt they were all in Laura's favor. In addition, she had those four years of age on me; I felt awed in her presence. I still resented my dad's having brought me to the school, but I immediately wanted Laura to like me. If she liked me, I'd manage whatever else the school brought.
While she was helping me settle in, get my things put away, Laura filled me in on the school routine and rules. In doing that she was fulfilling her role as senior girl. But when she had finished that, she smiled suddenly, asking, "Is it Wyoming you're from?"
I nodded.
"I suppose the ideas I've gotten from books and movies about what Wyoming's like are pretty corny," she murmured. "Have you ever lived on a ranch?"
"My home's on one of the biggest ranches in Wyoming," I admitted. "I'm just a country hick."
"Do you like horses?"
I told her, "I ought to. I grew up knowing a lot more horses than I did kids."
"Groovy!" Laura exclaimed. "I'm wild about horses. Here in California you can ride almost all year around... if you're not shut in a jail like this."
I glanced at her, surprised. Suddenly I felt very pleased. The first instant I laid eyes on Laura I'd felt somehow that we were kindred spirits. Slowly I said, "Then you're not wild about being here either?"
"Not a bit wild," she said quietly. "But I am going to get myself an education because I want the advantages an education brings. My stepfather pays the bills and he says this is the place for this part of my education. I figure it's probably better than trying to live with him and Mother and attend public school. So I've made the best of it. But I feel it's going to be easier, now that you're here."
"I'm glad you feel that way," I told Laura. I went to my bed and put the pillow against the headboard for a backrest and sat down. Kicking my shoes off, I raised my feet and stretched my legs upon the bed. I glanced at Laura. She was still standing where she'd been before. She was looking at me with a strange, tense expression. I asked, "What's wrong?"
She just stared at me for another moment. Then she abruptly asked, "What do you know about sex?"
Without taking time to think I declared, "Not nearly as much as I'd like to. Actually, though, sex is the real reason I got sentenced to this prison."
"So what else is new?" Laura asked with a wry smile. "One way or another, most of us are in here behind walls and under guard because someone's worried about us learning too much too soon. Some of us," and the way Laura said it, I instantly knew she was one of them, "actually were dumb enough or unlucky enough to get caught while doing some personal sex research. How about you?"
I shook my head, then admitted, "I've had some close calls, but I was lucky enough to never quite get caught. At least not so caught I wasn't able to claim I was trying to smooth a lump out of my bed, then bluff my way on through and make my story stick without having the lump investigated."
Laura's eyes were shining, obviously with eagerness. "The lump in question was a boy in your bed under you?" she suggested hopefully.
When I nodded, she insisted, "Oh, tell me all about it! Please?"
I looked at Laura a moment, studying her; somehow I knew she was really a kindred soul, someone I could trust completely. So I told her about all my adventures with Tom. When I fin- ished, there was a look of envious wonder in her eyes. She stared at me, murmuring, "In this prison, I may be considered your upperclass-man, but there are important things you know that I'm illiterate about! And you called yourself a country hick!"
I told her, "It takes more than knowing just a little bit about sex to transform a country hick into a suave sophisticate. I have a lot more to learn from you than I might be able to teach you, I feel certain."
Laura chuckled, walked over to me and hugged me as she murmured, "You're sweet. You and I are going to make a good team for researching the really important things of life."
"I hope so," I told her, putting my arms around her and hugging her back. Then I let my arms drop back to my sides.
But Laura kept her arms around me, holding our bodies close together as she gave me a searching look for a moment. Finally she said, "Having sex with a boy or a man, like you have, is the supreme experience in sex... if a girl's lucky like you were and gets a real lover and not a horse-cocked bull. But what do you do when you're in a prison like this and no lover boy can get to you?"
I shook my head. The thought was heavily depressing. I was already suffering withdrawal pains, having had my sex-rich diet of the past week so rudely chopped off. Lord, how I was aching to hold Tom in my arms and my burning cunt again. I didn't need any help from Laura to make me aware of my loss. Suddenly just the nearness of her body pressed against mine felt excitingly good; I quickly wrapped my arms around her again and tried to hug myself more tightly against her. Laura repeated, "What do you do for relief in a place like this?"
Again I shook my head dumbly, then found my tongue suddenly, inviting, "You show me what to do, Laura. Please, show me?"
She chuckled, then murmured, "You love your neighbor, wherever you are. Isn't that what the Good Book tells us to do?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. Does it?"
"That's right," she chuckled again, "you just got here, so you haven't gotten used to being hammered over the head day after day with selected quotations and interpretations."
"Interpretations?" I echoed.
"Sure," Laura said, rubbing her curvaceous body slowly back and forth against mine, hugging me closer as she explained, "no one who believes the Bible is something extra special seems to believe it ever says exactly whatever it has to say straight out and out in so many words. Of course not! Everything in it is supposed to be in sort of code, they say. So you've got no chance of understanding what it's really trying to tell you unless you learn a whole system of interpretations. Like their interpretation of who the Bible is talking about when it says to love your neighbor. They say that means any and all other members of their one and only true church. But I've learned to play their game my own way and make my own interpretations. The way I interpret it, right now you're the dear, sweet, wonderful neighbor I'm commanded to love. Wouldn't you like to have me love you, sweet neighbor?"
Suddenly a strange flash of electriclike excitement shot through me. I hugged myself against Laura more tightly, murmuring, "Of course, neighbor."
Laura brought her hands up, cradled my head between them gently, and kissed me full on the lips. I'd never had another girl or woman kiss me that way before; it surprised me.
Still holding my head in that same affectionate embrace, Laura raised her lips from mine and looked into my eyes as she said, "It's not even half as good as being kissed by your Tom, or some other he-man type guy... but isn't it a lot better than not being kissed at all?"
I surprised myself; I nodded. Then I felt irritated at myself because I'd felt surprised. Why shouldn't it seem pleasant to exchange demonstrations of affection with another girl? Everyone thought it perfectly natural to show antagonism toward certain other individuals, male or female. Why wasn't it just as natural to show affection, without restrictions based upon membership in one sexual fraternity or the other?
Laura brought her lips back down upon mine. The moist hotness of them felt good. Softer than Tom's or any other boy's. Different. But good. I found myself suddenly kissing her back. Then Laura's feverish tongue suddenly came thrusting through my lips, past my teeth and into my mouth, searching, caressing, stroking in and out.
My own tongue raised suddenly to greet hers and twine with it. The slippery embrace reminded me of Tom's good hard cock in the slippery embrace of my hungry cunt. Just the thought of that sent my blood pressure shooting up off the top of the scale.
I clutched myself against Laura more tightly and began grinding my lower belly up against hers as hard as I could. That created some good friction along the shaft of my suddenly rigid clitoris. The sensation it gave me was almost as good as if I'd been grinding it against a rigid penis inside the front of Tom's pants. My excited clitoris didn't seem to have any prejudice about the source of the friction. I gave a sudden thrust against Laura to increase the delicious friction.
Laura raised her face from mine. A breathless chuckle came from her. She smiled into my eyes, then murmured, "God, but I'm glad I got you for my new roommate, sweetie!" Then she went to the door and locked it. As Laura turned back from the door, she began pulling her clothes off. Suddenly I was pulling mine off too, feeling like I couldn't get out of them fast enough. I didn't really know exactly what was going to happen, but whatever it was I could hardly wait. The excitement suddenly filling me was almost as wild as it had been the first time Tom and I had been naked together.
Then I was flat on my back across my bed, my feet up on the edge of the mattress thrusting my knees high into the air' above me. Laura was on her knees beside the bed, her head between my knees. She was kissing and licking her way downward along my soft inner thighs. One of her fingers began stroking the lips of my cunt, triggering a flow of slippery love honey. Vaguely I realized it was Laura creating all this sensation within me. I was responding almost exactly as I would have if it had been Tom's mouth and fingers caressing me. It felt fantastically delicious.
Laura's caressing fingers suddenly thrust inward through those slippery lower lips of mine, into my feverish cunt. A groan came out of me. I raised my hips up off the bed, thrusting my eager cunt against her probing fingers.
That brought a chuckle from Laura. She withdrew her fingers. I thought she was trying to tantalize me. My head came jerking up off the mattress, words of protest about to tumble from my lips. I was amazed to see Laura eagerly licking my love juices from her fingers. When she saw me watching, she exclaimed breathlessly, "You are delicious, sugar! Sweeter than honey. Delectable!"
She thrust her fingers back into the depths of my hungry cunt. Another groan came up out of my lower belly; my head flopped back down upon the bed. My breath came in sharp gasps. New waves of sensation rushed through me. Laura's thumb was caressing my clitoris while her fingertips caressed the deep inner surfaces of my feverish vagina. Then her fingers were gone again, leaving my quivering cunt again ach-ingly empty. But before I could raise my head to protest, I jumped, startled by her sudden touch on my asshole. Instantly Laura mur- mured, "Relax, sweetie. I'll not hurt you. If lover boy's cock felt good in your ass, you'll get a groovy sensation from this, too. Just relax."
Her fingers, slippery with their coating of juices from my cunt, went sliding into my ass; her thumb went into my lower cunt. Lord, what a sensation! I'd never felt anything quite like that. She seemed to have found a whole main cable of nerves in the thin wall of tissue between her fingers in my ass and her thumb in my cunt. As she lightly stroked it between thumb and fingers, it created a wave of sensation I thought was going to blow my mind.
Laura's hot mouth closed abruptly over my clitoris and she began to suck and lick at it. Her thumb and fingers kept on doing their thing inside of me. I clutched the hair of my head in the fingers of both hands and held on, trying to keep the whole top of my head from blowing off.
Instead the explosion went off in my ass and cunt and whole lower belly. All of that area suddenly began to struggle with spasms of agonizing pulsations. The instant it started I was teetering on the edge of blacking out. I knew I was going to yell or scream, knew there was no way I could resist it, yet knew I didn't dare risk being heard. Desperately I grabbed my pillow while I still had enough strength to make such a movement. I clamped it over my face, pushed it into my mouth just as the agonized scream tried to gush from it. Lordy, how I was coming!
The fingers of her other hand suddenly closed upon one of my tits. She began pulling the rigid nipple. That triggered a whole new earthquake of sensation ten times as great as before. My whole lower body was pulsating furiously, about to tear itself apart and dissolve in a flood of boiling sensation. I lay there jerking convulsively, now really coming, coming, coming, coming, coming!
CHAPTER SEVEN
An hour later I'd returned Laura's favors. She acted just as exhausted as I'd felt after she'd finished with me. I crawled up on the bed beside her and hugged her close in my arms, my tits plastered - against hers. For a few minutes we just lay there that way, resting. Then Laura whispered, "Once a month I fly to Frisco for a weekend with my mother and stepfather. Coming back, last week, I got into conversation with my seatmate."
"Some young movie star?" I suggested.
"A very distinguished-looking, very suave, very mature man of the world."
"An old type, huh?" I asked in a teasing chuckle.
"Just wait until you see him!" Laura challenged. "But listen a minute. He told me there's a remote estate up in the Santa Monica mountains owned by a former movie star who's created a business that caters to the sexual appetites of a very exclusive clientele. He claimed he has an inside track with the owner; that she would allow him to take me on a tour of the place, watch what goes on in some of the special rooms, even try out anything I thought looked interesting. But no one is allowed out of this jail alone; we're released only in twos or more, even to authorized relatives."
"So what's the plan you've hatched?" I prompted, in hopes of priming her into talking further.
Laura glanced up, studied me for a moment, then said, "I had to find someone who'd go with me before there was any point trying to come up with a plan. Are you interested?"
"Sure I am," I declared without hesitation, "provided we make just one rule."
"What's that?"
"We stay together at all times," I declared. "We will under no circumstances separate, even to go to the toilet, after we leave here."
"I'd want that just as much as you," Laura said quickly.
"Then count me in," I told her.
She smiled, then stood up as she said, "When I have something to count you in on, I'll tell you the details. All right?"
"Fine," I nodded.
A week passed. I settled into the routine of the school and began getting acquainted with other freshman girls. I also had enough contacts with enough other upper class women to make me realize how very, very fortunate I'd been to get put in with Laura. During that week, Laura had shown me in many little ways that she was really my friend. She passed the word that any older girl who made any kind of trouble for me would have her to deal with. As a result, I was shown respect most freshmen didn't enjoy.
One day, when I returned to our room from classes, I found Laura there ahead of me. She was brimming with excitement. The instant I had the door closed behind me she exclaimed in a stage whisper, "It's going to work! The superintendent received the letter today, and she's approved the request."
"What on earth are you talking about?" I asked.
"The man I told you about?" Laura reminded me.
"Yes."
"After I talked to you, I managed to make a phone call to him," she told me breathlessly, keeping her voice low as if fearful that our room might be bugged. "I arranged for him to write a letter posing as my uncle. He asked to be allowed to take me to his home for the afternoon and early evening next Saturday. Invited you to accompany me."
"And the superintendent has received his letter?" I asked.
Laura nodded. "She had me called to the office last period, told me about the letter, and asked if I cared to accept the invitation."
"And did you?" I teased.
Laura shrugged eloquently. "I said if you could go with me, it might be a chance to do some sightseeing that would be fun."
I giggled, then exclaimed, "Sightseeing? But wouldn't our poor old superintendent have heart failure if she knew what sights we'll be seeing?"
I suppressed my impulse to giggle, however, as our strait-laced old superintendent was bidding us goodbye shortly after noon the following Saturday. To tell the truth, it was easy. I was so impressed with the elegance of the chauffeured Rolls Royce limousine Laura's distinguished-looking friend had arrived in, my inclination to giggle wasn't hard to suppress. Our superintendent also was obviously impressed by it and by the regal appearance of Laura's supposed "Uncle." She even apologized to him for the school rule which forced her to have me accompany Laura. But Laura instantly assured her she should not worry about that, claiming she would have suggested it even had there been no such rule.
We were shown into the luxurious back seat of the limousine. Before Laura's Uncle Malcolm joined us he told our superintendent, "We will be having lunch at the Century City Sky-room in case you should want to contact us for any reason."
Our old superintendent had fallen complete victim to his charm. She threw up her hands and shook her head in protest, exclaiming, "I'm certain no such occasion will arise. I feel--" He broke in on her gently, asking, "And you have my home phone?"
"Yes, yes," she assured him, "but I won't be bothering you by using it, I'm certain. Just let me know, please, should it become impossible for you to have the girls back by nine this evening."
"They will be back before nine," he assured her, then joined Laura and me. The chauffeur closed the door after him. Our poor deluded superintendent stood waving gaily as our elegant car drove away.
We weren't out of her sight when Uncle Malcolm turned his aristocratic head my way. His eyes gave me a careful inspection. Then he glanced at Laura on his other side, nodding slightly. He murmured approvingly, "Your little friend is, I think, even more delectable than your description led me to believe. The two of you may prove to be such stimulating company you'll make a new man of me." As he said that, he put one hand on one of my knees, the other on one of Laura's. I don't know how Laura felt, but the touch of his refined hand sent a strange supercharge of sexual excitement surging through me. Suddenly I felt the lubricating inner sweat triggered by that excitement hotly dampening my panties. My whole body was tingling with feverish anticipation mingled with sharply stabbing chills of apprehension; I was not so intoxicated by the prospect of unique adventure that I did not also feel an almost equally exciting fear of the unknown. Whatever was going to happen, I was committed to see it through without a whimper. I'd never make Laura regret her choice of me as her companion on this adven- ture.
Resting his hands upon our knees was all Uncle Malcolm did. on the drive to Century City. It was, he explained, located on the site of what once had been part of the back lot at Twentieth Century-Fox Studios. As we drove, he removed one hand from the knee it caressed, then the other, in gesturing as he pointed out various points of interest. It was obvious that he owned an encyclopedic knowledge of the film industry and of a multitude of events not generally known about its development in the Hollywood area. He seemed like someone showing off his hometown to visitors.
When we reached the Century City Skyroom it became even more obvious than it had been that he certainly was no ordinary person. We were escorted by a fawning maitre d' to a table that commanded the best view in the entire room. It was the kind of warm winter day the Chamber of Commerce likes to advertise as typical in Southern California. There was just enough wind to keep the smog blown away. The view to be seen from our vantage point was breathtaking.
Uncle Malcolm ordered for us, including a bottle of champagne. After the bill had been taken away with Uncle Malcolm's credit card, he abruptly asked Laura, "Exactly how much, my dear, does our little Wyoming friend here know about our conversation on the plane from Frisco?"
Laura laughed a little nervously, exclaiming, "Everything! If she didn't, she likely wouldn't be here."
For some reason I don't understand I giggled at that. My cheeks felt even more flushed than the champagne had made them. I'm certain I was blushing when he turned his head to glance at me. He smiled, evidently not displeased by my reaction, then asked, "you'll both be frank with me about how you feel, won't you?"
Laura and I nodded together.
"Then frankly... is each of you ready to experience a very... unconventional... afternoon?" he asked.
I glanced at Laura; her eyes were bright with eagerness, but her cheeks were as crimson as mine felt. She murmured breathlessly, "I'm ready for whatever happens!"
I chimed in, "I am too!"
"And the more unconventional, the better," Laura added.
"Just so nothing hurts us physically," I put in. "I don't like physical pain. I understand there are some sex nuts who're so fouled up they think it's impossible to experience sexual pleasure unless it's mingled with pain. I think that's sick. I draw the line against anything like that. Otherwise, though, the more unconventional the better."
"Good!" he exclaimed. He glanced at me as he said, "I'm Uncle Malcolm to you, as well as Laura, from here on. You're both my nieces. Understand?"
I nodded. "I understand."
He continued quietly, "Now to what you said about not liking physical pain. I agree with you entirely. But in some instances there is a very fine line between the point where pleasure ends and actual pain begins. Sometimes the closer to that fine line you can get, yet without actually crossing it, the more excruciatingly intense your pleasure is. So you must give me your full confidence without reservations, must not hold back if something you're asked to do surprises you a little. Will you promise?"
"Well... " I said hesitantly, uncertain about agreeing to buy any such pig in a poke.
He broke in, assuring, "I'll promise you, nothing you'll be asked to do will cause you any actual pain. Just trust me and you'll come through all the experiences we're about to have together as physically whole and unharmed as you are at this very moment. Agreed?"
I still felt a little reluctant, but I nodded, trembling a little deep within myself as I murmured, "Agreed."
Laura's "Agreed!" echoed mine, but was more emphatic.
"Good!" Uncle Malcolm exclaimed, smiling as he stood up. He helped us back down to his limousine. As the chauffeur drove us away, Uncle Malcolm brought two pieces of handkerchief-size black silk and two sleep masks from a compartment in the wall behind the front seat. He announced, "One thing more... from this point on, I'll have to blindfold each of you. The place we're going is very exclusive and very secret. I had to promise you'd be blindfolded during the entire drive there in order to get permission to bring you with me to see the sights.
All right?"
Laura and I both nodded and turned ourselves for the blindfolds to be put into place. My basic human fear of the unknown had sent chills flashing through my excitement earlier. They now were intensified by the experience of black sightlessness. I was trembling, but determined to hide it. I struggled to appear calm and relaxed as I let myself be carried blindly toward our unknown destination.
From the twisting and turning I could feel the limousine doing, I knew-we were being carried into mountains somewhere. I remembered Laura having said the place this stranger we called Uncle Malcolm had suggested taking her was so remote that all manner of unusual sexual practices were carried on there without fear of interruption by authorities. I felt wetness in my panties again. To this day I can't be certain whether it was caused by fear or by excitement. I was filled with conflicting emotions. I wanted out, but I was determined to see this wild adventure through without a whimper. I almost succeeded.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Apprehension began building a cold lump in the pit of my stomach the instant we walked in the room. Marie, our tour guide, said it was called the Gentle Restraints Room. I guess I have a "thing" about having complete freedom to move however and whenever I want to move my body. I can't even stand starched cuffs or stiff clothing of any other kind that hampers free movement. Just the word "restraints" seemed to get to me, cooling the excitement I'd been feeling.
I hung back, reluctant to take more than a couple of steps inside the doorway. Laura instantly noticed. She grabbed my nearest hand, urging, "Come on, silly! You look like you thought we're about to meet the Frankenstein monster!" That attracted Uncle Malcolm's attention and Marie's. Marie glanced back with a smile, then turned back, soothing, "Don't feel bad; just the name of this room spooks lots of older, more experienced people than you. So we have a firm house rule that each one who enters this room must personally submit to the very worst kind of restraint ever practiced here; so they'll know from personal experience how unjustified their first fears were."
"Everyone?" I wailed. "Why didn't you tell us that before you led us in here? I want to get out--" Just then the door slammed shut behind me. I wheeled toward it, then stood trembling, fighting to hold down the panic rising within me. Ominous sounds of a locking mechanism reached me through a sudden quiet. Obviously it was a soundproof room; the low, sweet music that had filled the hallway outside suddenly was gone. I was on the verge of losing my cool completely.
As if reading my mind, Marie again soothed, "Don't let the locked door worry you; that's just to insure complete privacy and no embarrassment during your introduction to the delights reserved to this special room."
"I want out!" I wailed.
Laura gave my hand a jerk, warning, "Don't act like a scared country hick! You promised--" Marie interrupted reassuringly, "You'll love everything that happens to you here. Please trust me."
Laura declared, "I'm not afraid! I'll go first at whatever demonstration you have to make."
"Good girl!" Uncle Malcolm said with an approving smile. "You'll find everything done here is a lot less risky than even the best commercial flying. I promised neither of you would experience any actual pain."
"I'm not afraid!" Laura repeated.
Marie nodded, smiling, and gestured Laura to her. She turned and led the way on to a strange-appearing, large chair in the center of the spooky room. Laura released her hold on my hand and followed Marie to the chair. Marie indicated Laura was to seat herself in it; Laura did. She regretted it immediately. Instantly leather cuffs closed around her wrists and ankles, fastening Laura in the chair securely. Her eyes widened with surprise; suddenly she didn't look all that cool. I had to hold back an impulse to giggle, feeling strangely gratified, certain that Laura wasn't so full of cool now.
Marie patted Laura's shoulder and told her, "Just relax now, and trust me. You won't be hurt."
Laura gave her a sickly smile, obviously having to force it. Again I had to repress an impulse to giggle, experiencing strange satisfaction from sight of Laura's discomfort.
Marie stepped to a cabinet at one side against a wall. She opened it to reveal an assortment of whips. My impulse to giggle vanished as quickly as it had come. I knew a whip when I saw it. Despite the promises of these two strangers that Laura and I wouldn't be hurt, a whip was a whip and whips hurt whatever they were used on, animal or human. I'd seen whips used back home on the ranch.
Again as if reading my mind, Marie turned to me, inviting, "I want you to come examine these. You'll find none of them is really as frightening as they may look."
Reluctantly I walked past the suave stranger we'd foolishly agreed to call Uncle Malcolm. I went to Marie. As I approached, she extended one of the whips from the assortment. Its lash dangled before me. I caught the whiplash in one hand and instantly was amazed at its feeling of softness. I found the lash was composed of braided strands of soft silk with a dried orange seed fastened at the end. Above the lash, instead of braided leather like that in a conventional whipstock, were strands of braided velvet.
"The very worst this whip can do is create a slight stinging sensation in the skin," Marie explained. "Being lashed with any of these whips stimulates surface circulation, drawing an increased supply of blood into the skin of the area receiving the caress. That heightens both the quantity and the quality of sensation in that area. It's very much the same process as that used by Scandinavian peoples in their steam baths when they flail each other with the tender tips of small birch limbs. It may make the skin seem to burn from its increased supply of blood, but it doesn't hurt. In fact, just the opposite."
Marie then stepped to a panel of toggle switches near the chair. The first switch she flicked brought something to life inside the chair. Both armrests moved away from the chair, taking Laura's imprisoned arms with them. That slow but relentless movement continued until Laura's arms finally were extended full length from her shoulders at right angles to her sides.
Marie stepped in beside her and unbuttoned Laura's blouse. The blouse fell open and Laura's breasts escaped their minimal restraint to come springing out proudly into full view. Uncle Malcolm licked his lips and murmured, "What a pair of fresh beauties!" I noticed Laura didn't look exactly thrilled about his obvious admiration. In fact she looked like she was feeling just about as uncool as I would have felt in her place. Again I found myself feeling strangely pleased by her discomfort.
Marie stepped back to the control panel and flicked another switch; more whirring sounds came from inside the chair. It slowly changed shape, becoming a kind of bed upon which Laura was stretched. A doctor's examination table would be a better description of it. Of course no doctor's examination table has the array of features that piece of equipment boasted. For example, a section under Laura's rump lowered at the flick of another switch; Marie stepped in again to pull Laura's dress up and her panties down, exposing her bare ass to all of us. I began to get a strong hunch about what was in store for Laura.
Obviously Laura did too. She began whining, "I think I'd like to change my mind. Please?"
Marie pulled Laura's panties on down to her ankles, released one ankle from the cuff imprisoning it and pulled that foot free of the panties. She had the ankle clamped back into the cuff before Laura realized it had been momentarily free. Marie flicked more switches. The section under Laura's bare ass moved back upward, restoring support to that portion of her body. But its upward movement didn't stop; it kept raising until Laura's bare ass had been lifted higher than her head or feet, creating an arch of her body. While that was happening, the footrests moved apart until her legs were spread wide open, exposing her cunt like merchandise on a display rack. She squawked again, "Please stop! I've changed my mind!"
"Never change your mind, my dear, once you've embarked upon an adventure," Uncle Malcolm chided gently. "Once you've started, turning back is an act of cowardice."
"But I'm scared!" Laura wailed, then broke off with a gasp because Marie had brought the lash of the whip singing down upon Laura's naked breasts. Before Laura could tell whether she'd been hurt or not, Marie brought the lash down again, then again and again and again. Soon a bright flush colored the soft skin of both Laura's breasts. Both nipples were standing rigidly at attention as if someone had been sucking and tonguing them. She began to squirm and moan, a crooked smile twisting her face, her eyes closed. Obviously she was experiencing pleasant sensations as the silken lashes of the whip continued caressing her naked boobs.
Another sharp gasp came out of Laura; the lash had gone singing down into her open cunt for the first time. She not only grunted, she farted explosively as her belly muscles suddenly tensed with surprise. Instantly her face turned as beet red as her tits were. I almost strangled, holding back the laughter. It made me feel sadistic, guilty, but I still was just barely able to hold back the laughter.
Laura gasped again, but not so sharply as before, when the lash came singing down upon her defenseless cunt and clitoris again. After that her gasps began sounding more and more like moans filled with the sound of pleasure, excruciatingly intense.
Just when it seemed obvious that Laura was about to trigger off into orgasm, Marie switched the silken lash back to her tits. Each time it hit, streaks of glistening moisture were left across the flesh, trails of the slippery juices the lash had been bathed in as it had gone singing through Laura's open cunt. When those glistening trails were no longer left by the silken strands as they caressed Laura's naked boobs, Marie switched the attack back to her cunt. She kept it up until Laura again seemed right on the verge of blasting out into orgasmic space. Marie switched back to Laura's breasts until the strands of the lash again were dry.
Back and forth, from breasts to cunt and back to the blushing breasts again, Marie switched the direction of the caressing blows, never letting Laura quite topple over the brink into the release of orgasm. Finally Laura was screaming and writhing against her restraints, struggling to thrust her blazing cunt upward to meet the ravishing silk, trying frantically to make the impact of its caress hard enough to trigger her release. As I watched, I no longer felt like laughing; I was scared. Laura looked to me like she had been driven to the point of just about blowing her mind.
Marie finally showed some mercy as she stroked the silken lash downward across Laura's rigid clitoris and the open lips of her gushing cunt until Laura made it all the way. Once she started, I thought she was never going to stop. Laura's orgasm kept on and on and on, with her screaming and struggling all the way. Finally I lunged at Marie, pinning the arm that was pouring the lash to Laura's pulsating cunt. I yelled, "Stop it, before you kill her!"
Marie didn't offer any resistance. She gave me a wry smile, murmuring, "Every one of us girls should be lucky enough to live until we die that way." She turned and went to hang the whip back in the cabinet. After that she flipped switches that soon had Laura seated in a big chair again. The cuffs holding her wrists and ankles were opened, but Laura didn't move; she just sat there with a tired but utterly blissful smile spread all over her face. I was afraid that she actually had blown her mind entirely, that she'd been sent on a trip she was never going to make it back from. Relief flooded through me when Laura suddenly exclaimed, "What a way to come! I'd never have believed it!"
"Well, don't be selfish, dear," Uncle Malcolm chided. "Move to a spectator's seat. It's Trina's turn now."
"Don't worry about it!" I snapped. "Trina will struggle, if she has to, and just do without her turn!"
"You surprise me, my dear. You, a girl from old Wyoming, with no sense of adventure?" Uncle Malcolm taunted.
"I'll get all the adventure I need exploring all the various kinds of plain and fancy fucking and oral sexual kicks," I countered almost angrily. "But this kind of stuff is just a short step away from--" Right there Laura turned traitor, interrupting to chide me scornfully, "You're only a short step away from being disgusting! You've seen everything that'll happen, so you won't get any surprises like I did. Either take your turn or I pin the square badge of the 24-carat phony on you, little chum!"
I could have killed her! I wanted to try ignoring her, but my damned pride wouldn't let me. Who the hell did she think she was, anyhow, coming down on me like that? I'd taken risks like she'd never taken and had sexual adventures like she'd never had. I'd damned well show her where she could put her 24-carat phony badge!
I was so mad I didn't even have regrets or get scared all over again when the cuffs locked around my wrists and ankles. Before I sat down in the damned trick chair, however, I'd defiantly peeled off my panties and thrown them at Marie. Then I'd gotten an even better inspiration; I stripped off all the rest of my clothing. I was bare-assed naked when the cuffs closed, locking me in that leather overstuffed rig. I went limp against the chair, making my flesh like putty as the thing moved under me, spreading my arms and legs and hoisting my ass to- ward the ceiling. I'd show them! I'd act like this cruddy bondage contraption and the cruddy whips were a big zero, a total washout, a complete bore.
I can say this much for myself; I gave my ambition to get through the experience with at least feigned indifference a damned good try. But human flesh can endure only so much sensation, good or bad, before automatic reactions overwhelm you.
CHAPTER NINE
The silky thongs came swishing down against my naked breasts several times before I started feeling a thing. During those first few moments I experienced a feeling of triumph; I was going to carry this off without getting even a half-volt tingle. I thought the orange seeds were all I was feeling; they made tiny pecking impacts against my naked tits that were gone almost before they registered. The silken thongs the seeds were strung on seemed to be hitting my skin too softly to create any sensation whatever.
The lash kept rising and falling again. I began to notice a glow growing on the skin of both bare boobs. I rolled my eyes down as far as I could and was amazed to see my damned nipples standing erectly. I noticed the skin beyond them was becoming a glowing pink. It seemed impossible, I'd felt so little to start with. Startled, I realized I was beginning to feel one hell of a lot more the longer this went on. I wondered if I was just letting myself be psyched out?
I'd heard of the Hindu husbands' distraction technique used to heighten their control, enabling them to stretch out a screw to the maximum length in order to give a wife or concubine or mistress an opportunity to enjoy the greatest number of orgasms she was capable of. I determined to see what it could do for female control. For the first few minutes thereafter I was able to keep my mind crammed with thoughts of every nonsexual thing imaginable. I started having hope of success despite my body's attempt to betray me. And then my damned mind suddenly joined the conspiracy!
I found my most nonsexual thoughts being twisted around and suddenly revealing exciting sexual suggestions. For example, I was imagining myself back home on the ranch watching one of Dad's cowhands fitting new shoes on a cow pony in his string. I saw him lift the red-hot shoe out of the fire in the forge and hold it over the hoof he was shaping the steel to fit. Suddenly, however, the glowing horseshoe turned into a burning cunt. My burning cunt!
Before I could arouse myself from my amazement at the trick my treacherous mind had played, the picture changed back to the shoeing scene. The shoe had been perfectly fitted and cooled and now was being nailed to the hoof, the shoeing hammer rising and falling, delivering steady, rhythmic blows to the head of the hor-s e s h o e nail. Then in a flash the hammer changed into a stiff male cock, hammering in and out of the naked cunt the shoe had again become.
Worse than that, the cunt in question seemed to have become my own; I seemed to be feeling the goodness of that male ramrod sliding in and out of me. Then my cunt became the forge, fire blazing in it so intense it was heating that iron rod of male hardness to a glowing white heat one degree away from the melting point.
I tried to tear my mind away from it. Any second now that white-hot male rod would begin geysering molten metal. I saw that firebox cunt of mine transformed into an erupting volcano splashing the sky with molten discharges. Concentrating on my now glowing tits seemed a lot less dangerous. But when I let the sensation now gorging those tits with superheated blood flood through my consciousness, the next thought that flashed through was an aching desire to feel Tom sucking and licking at those tingling nipples. That's all it took.
The mere thought of Tom's hot lips and burning tongue on my nipples, tingling the way they were right then, blasted me into orgasmic orbit. I nearly blacked out. As my grip on consciousness faded, I suddenly felt filled with an electric joy of supreme satisfaction; I had beaten Marie at her own game! Distantly I heard her exclaiming in dismay, "Good Lord, she's already coming! And I haven't even touched her cunt yet! She's fantastic!"
I heard Uncle Malcolm's awed exclamation, "What pure, exquisite passion! She's a master- piece of feminine sexual response! Truly superb! Support her, Marie! Support her with continued stimulation!"
Instantly I felt the caress of the silken lash down across my burning clitoris and through the steaming lips of my pulsating cunt. My cunt had never felt a caress more delicate, more delectable. The pressure struggling to find release within my quaking belly shot upward again; a new intensity of sensation created aching, desperate, anguished pulsations. And it hung there, achieving no relief. Blow after blow fell silkenly upon my fiery cunt, delivering fresh cargoes of sensation to fuel its furious fires. I was really blowing my mind. I felt a desperate need to grab my hair to try to hold my head on; the cuffs pinning my wrists wouldn't yield. Distantly I heard someone screaming. My head seemed filled with flashing confusion, blazing colors, swirling psychedelic visions, all awash in fiery, bubbling, molten sensation.
Yet even at the very height of it, I had a yearning awareness of incompleteness, of an aching need for fulfillment that only a stiff male cock thrusting into my blazing cunt could create. Like oral sex, it was creating a blast of sensation for me I wouldn't have wanted to have missed, plus it was somehow a whole different bag of sexual sensation. Great as it was, a hard male cock used with skill would have felt even greater. Just fantasizing the feeling of Tom's sweet cock in that blast-furnace cunt of mine shot the sensation off the top of the scale. I felt a little of the sense of completeness I'd realized I was yearning for.
I got so busy fantasizing, sending myself even farther into space, that I didn't know when Marie stopped raining the blows of that silken lash through my supercharged cunt. I had the illusion of Tom's delectable hardness hammering in and out of my lovesick, starving cunt. How I'd been missing that lover boy of mine. Now I seemed to be holding him in my hungry arms again, filled with the satisfying goodness of his indescribable male hardness again. Lordy, what a trip.
When I finally came back to earth, I found the others watching me in awe. Laura looked a little frightened. Later she told me I'd gone right on coming for at least a minute after Marie last touched me with the lash. For my part, I felt disappointed as I realized Tom hadn't actually been there pouring the cock to me like I'd imagined while I was coming.
When she saw I was back among them, Marie greeted me with a murmur of admiration, declaring, "What a talent!"
Uncle Malcolm exclaimed, "My dear, you've made me bitterly regret the promise I gave our hostess." I got what he meant. The platinum-haired, big-bosomed owner of this exotic establishment had demanded that because of our lack of legal age, everything our dear Uncle Malcolm did with us of a sexual nature while on the premises had to be stopped short of penetration. He added, voice lowering to a husky whisper, "I never watched anything so erotic!"
I winked at him wearily and murmured, "We aren't going to spend all the rest of our lives here under those restrictions, Uncle dear."
Excitement blazed to fresh intensity in his eyes. He lost his usual cool slightly, his voice trembling just a little as he exclaimed, "You're so right, you sexy little minx! Haven't we seen enough of the sights--" I interrupted, reminding, "It's your turn on this torture rack, sweet Uncle. Marie said everyone who entered this room had to--"
"But your uncle has already been initiated in the delights of the chair of bondage and the silken lash!" Marie interrupted quickly.
Laura proved she was back on my side, speaking up to declare, "Trina and I've never seen him initiated. He got to watch us, so we ought to have a right to a return of the treat."
"Fair's fair!" I chimed in.
Marie glanced at Uncle. He shrugged, then nodded, murmuring, "If the girls insist, what kind of sportsman would I be to refuse? As my sweet little niece says, fair's fair."
Marie chuckled, giving him a knowing look, then exclaimed, "Truth is truth, too. And the truth is, you were just hoping for an excuse. Weren't you, Uncle?"
Uncle Malcolm chuckled too as he started to get out of his clothes, then suggested, "Why don't all of us follow Trina's good example to get into something more comfortable, like our birthday suits?"
Marie and Laura both began taking their clothes off like they were having a race, both laughing gaily. Through her laughter Marie de- clared, "Like I said... just hoping for an excuse."
In amazement I asked, "Who needed an excuse? Around a place like this, I didn't suppose anyone ever bothered waiting for an excuse when they want to do something."
"Dearie, you'll discover that very few humans, even around a place like this, ever get free enough to just do whatever they feel like," Marie told me wryly, "without first finding some kind of excuse. Of course, some develop a greater talent for finding excuses than most others have." She gave Uncle Malcolm a meaningful glance.
He instantly protested, "Don't look at me. You know how inhibited I was only a few years ago, when I first began coming here. I'd have died before I'd have shown my naked bod to three lovelies like you three and no excuse would've been good enough."
"Why?" Laura demanded in amazement. "You're about as handsome as a man can get, and the more I see of it, the more certain I am that your whole body's just as great as your face. Why would you want to hide it?"
As Laura's question ended, Uncle Malcolm skinned out of his shorts, then stood up stark naked. He thrust his pelvic area forward, deliberately displaying a rigid penis that was far from heroic in its proportions. It looked to me about the same size, perhaps just a bit larger, than Tom's had been after I'd given it some steady exercise and it had started growing. Uncle Malcolm pointed down at his excited cock and said, "That's why! I thought I was a midget in the one department where I thought size was most important, especially in the eyes of beautiful women."
"Men are all such stupes about that," Marie chuckled. "They all seem to have been brainwashed by the same fairy tale." She laughed again, then exclaimed, "It really is a fairy tale, you know. Only queers have a special love for the owners of horsecock-sized joysticks. Most women want to keep as far away from that kind as they can get. Who the hell wants to have her cunt stretched all out of shape, maybe even torn some, by a horsecock? And the stupid bastards who own them are always dimwits who never think of being gentle and taking it easy. You can almost count on it that a man with a horse-sized cock owns a peanut-sized brain, at least when it comes to what he knows about being a lover. More often than not, their kind are nothing but bad news to a normal woman. The only kind of woman that kind of man might be good for is the sick chick who enjoys being hurt."
Uncle Malcolm chuckled, exclaiming, "Hurting a woman is something I've never had to worry about."
Marie took him by surprise, suddenly closing the fingers of one hand around his cock, then bowing her head to kiss and lick the head of it several times. She murmured, "You sweetums... you're the kind of real joystick all healthy girls have dreams about. You know how to make love, not war, you sugar daddy."
She straightened, still keeping her grip on his hard penis, and led him to the chair. She turned him and fastened him to the chair, belly down. Then she flicked switches that laid him down and stretched him out. When the movement of the chair ended, Uncle Malcolm lay on his belly, ass in the air, legs stretched wide apart. His asshole was exposed, as were his balls and penis, hanging from his lower belly.
"The anus is a potential source of greater sexual stimulation than most men ever realize," Marie explained as she selected a whip from the cabinet. "So we'll just sensitize the whole area for your sweet uncle." And she sent the silk-and-velvet lash she'd selected singing into the crack of his ass and downward across the bulging skin of his scrotum and the sensitive underside of his hard penis. After only the first half-dozen strokes, his penis began to swell and grow and lengthen visibly. Low moans of pleasure were coming from Uncle Malcolm. Obviously he was enjoying himself as much as Laura and I had.
When she'd brought a rosy glow into the whole area being stimulated, Marie stopped the whipping abruptly. Uncle Malcolm groaned, "Good Lord, don't stop now!"
"Do you really want to waste it this way?" Marie asked. "Wouldn't you really rather shove that sugarstick deep up into my tight anus and let the hotness inside there melt it while we both get a charge of pleasure?"
She glanced at Laura and me, explaining quietly and quickly, "Men are so limited, com- pared to us. Once you start their geyser pumping, it's all over for at least fifteen minutes and often for half an hour or more. They can't start all over again and again like we girls can, one time right after another. You have to do some planning in order to get the most pleasure possible before you let them be triggered into an eruption."
Uncle Malcolm said breathlessly, "That's been feeling mighty good, but not half as delicious as you'd be, sweet Marie. If you'd like to have me, I'm all yours. Just get me free of this damned contraption."
"Can we really watch?" I asked, suddenly breathless with excitement. Marie gave me a sly smile and winked a promise.
CHAPTER TEN
Marie handed the whip to me. As I turned toward the cabinet to put it away, she stopped me, declaring, "I want you to use that, sweetie."
I turned to stare after her in surprise as she went to release Uncle Malcolm. "On me," she added, over her shoulder.
"What?" I asked in amazement.
She was opening the wrist and ankle cuffs without changing the mechanism back into the form of a chair. Without glancing around, she explained, "I want you to sensitize my anus the same way you watched me sensitize Malcolm's."
"You want me to use this whip on your asshole?" I asked incredulously.
Marie glanced around frowning as she opened the last cuff. "Anus, not asshole, sweetie. Don't be vulgar."
I told her, "In Wyoming an asshole's an asshole and the only vulgar people are hypocrites who pretend their choice of words can make the difference between something being refined or vulgar. Don't lecture me or I'll do more than just sensitize your asshole. Dig?"
Marie's brows raised. "My, my, but our little kitten seems to have claws," she murmured. "All right, sweetie... I want you to please sensitize my asshole."
She stretched herself in the place Uncle Malcolm had just vacated, he closed the cuffs upon her that she'd just released him from. As the last one snapped shut on Marie's ankle, he glanced at me, exclaiming, "Go!"
A strange feeling of satisfaction went through me as I raised the whip. I sent the lash whistling down into the open crack of Marie's ass; it brought a low, sighing grunt out of her. I raised the whip and sent it singing down into that unprotected valley of flesh again and again and again. Marie's moans became louder each time the lash fell. Something about whipping her that way was stirring a wild excitement within me. It seemed almost as if I was making love to her. It was weird, but I felt it happening, felt my own blood heating up, felt the slippery sweat of excitement begin flowing in my cunt again. Suddenly I was wondering if that's exactly what Marie had anticipated would happen to me? And if she had, why she'd hoped it would happen?
Moments later I found out. Marie signaled that she'd been sensitized enough. In fact she later claimed that if I'd hit her half-a-dozen times more, she'd have come; gone into orgasm was the way she put it. Anyhow, as she crawled off the rack of bondage, the first thing she said was, "I hope you're as good with your tongue, sweetie, as you were with that whip. I want you to lick my vulva and pull my nipples while Malcolm shoves that hard sugarstick of his as far as he can up my asshole." As she said the last word, she gave me a little smile, wrinkling her nose.
"What do I get to do?" Laura protested, clearly afraid she was going to get left out.
"You'll play the hardest part of all," Marie told her with a quick glance. "You'll be the unselfish Good Samaritan who gives whatever's needed by others and doesn't receive one thing in return. You get behind dear Malcolm and lick his burning anus and scrotum while he pours his candy stick into me. Okay?"
Laura nodded. "Okay."
"Places everybody!" Marie said in a loud voice.
Uncle Malcolm chuckled, murmuring, "Are you giving me the needle, you minx? Trying to sound like you're the big movie director on this stage?"
"How'm I doing?" Marie demanded in a teasing tone as she got down over me on her hands and knees.
"Great!" Uncle Malcolm chuckled, getting down upon his knees in position behind her. He gripped Marie's hips with both hands. Looking up between her legs as I lay on the floor below her cunt, I could see the swollen head of his stiff cock start closing in on her asshole. But she abruptly dropped her tits and belly right down against me, tipping her pelvic area to aim him into her cunt instead of her asshole.
"Stir around in my honeybox for a minute or so, first," she directed quietly, "to get him good and slippery with lubrication before you try fitting him into tighter quarters."
"I'll tell you just one thing," Malcolm told her breathlessly as the head of his cock disappeared into Marie's slippery cunt.
"What's that, lover?" she asked.
"This production you're directing may be an artistic masterpiece," he told her as he shoved the entire shaft of his hard cock into her cunt to its roots. Drawing it out for another inward stroke, he added, "but it'll never get even an X rating on the big screen. It's just too unconventional."
"Who cares?" Marie sniffed derisively. "I'm a true artist. My masterpieces are created for my own personal pleasure, not in the hope of winning fame and filthy lucre. Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!"
That groan of pleasure was a phony, but it gave me a sudden inspiration. I raised my head, bringing my mouth to Marie's clitoris, as Uncle Malcolm's hard cock stroked in and out of her cunt. Before she realized what I was up to, I sucked her clit into my mouth and began licking it. That brought a genuine, anguished sounding "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" gasping out of her.
Uncle Malcolm warned sharply, "Not yet, you passion pot!" Directly above my face he jerked his cock out of her cunt, obviously thinking he'd done whatever had her sounding like she was on the verge of coming. He raised her upper body with an impatient lift, changing the angle of her ass. He shoved the slippery head of his cock into Marie's asshole while I watched, sucking and licking at her drooling cunt not more than an inch below. Another long, "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" came out of Marie as his cock slid into her.
Right behind that a startled-sounding, "Son of a bitch!" came gasping from Uncle Malcolm explosively.
Instantly I heard Laura asking in a frightened voice, "Did I hurt you?"
Then Uncle Malcolm was urgently reassuring, "Lord, no, sweets! Your tongue just felt so good it startled me. It didn't hurt me! I've never had such a sensation!"
I started to giggle and suddenly fingers closed upon one of my nipples, giving it an affectionate tug. Hot lips and a fantastic tongue closed over my feverish cunt and began sucking and licking. Instantly my giggles changed into an anguished moan. The fantastic tangle the four of us were in had excited me far more than I'd realized. Now I suddenly felt like one more lick of Marie's tongue through my steaming cunt would send me into orbit. The surface skin throughout my whole cunt area was still fantastically sensitized from the erotic strokes of that silk lash Marie had whipped my cunt with earlier. My cunt had never been so sensitive, so loaded with sensation.
Marie's hot tongue went licking through my crack again. Just as I'd expected, I started coming! But I fought to keep from blacking out, to keep from drowning in my own raging sea of swirling sensation. I had some giving to deliver in return for the supercharge of pleasure I was getting. Frantically I fought to keep from being overwhelmed by the tidal waves of sensation roaring up through me from my pulsating cunt. Furiously I kept lapping and sucking at Marie's fiery cunt and pulling at the hard nipples of both tits. Suddenly her cunt began to quiver against my lips. Then it was wracked abruptly by powerful spasms as she came too.
It brought a scream out of Marie. But her voice was nearly drowned out by a bass yell of excruciating anguish as Uncle Malcolm hammered his cock in and out of Marie's tight asshole frantically. Talk about simultaneous mutual orgasm! Just a conventional two-way heat can be pretty far out, but this three-way thing we'd touched off was really wild. The excitement within each of us seemed to be replenished faster than it could be discharged through our pulsating genitals, as if it was being doubled and redoubled by our awareness of the ex-- citement of each of the other two.
I'd started coming first, but my orgasm seemed to get more intense as it went along. Finally it got almost painful, like the whole lower part of my belly was being turned wrong-side out. When that hurricane of passion finally ended, all three of us were drenched with sweat. The outline of my back was imprinted upon the rug in sweaty dampness when I finally got enough strength to get up.
Laura exclaimed brightly, "That looked like a pretty wild trip for all you guys!"
Marie glanced at her, then at Uncle Malcolm and me. Finally she declared, "If there's a law that says a Good Samaritan has to always give but never receive, I say it's time we repealed it!"
"Second the motion!" Uncle Malcolm agreed. "I'll suck her nipples."
"And I'll lick her sweet cunt," Marie volunteered. "Trina, you kiss her anus... asshole to you."
An excited shriek came out of Laura. She tried to dodge away and run for it. She wanted to play the coy female, to make a game of it, to make it appear the thing she actually wanted desperately was being forced upon her. But Uncle Malcolm's hand was too fast; he grabbed her before she could get her playful sprint started.
Laura shrieked again. She started struggling, acting like she was desperate to get free. That seemed to surprise Uncle Malcolm. I think Laura might have escaped his grip, but Marie grabbed her too just then. I was right behind Marie.
We took Laura to the floor in a screaming, yelling tangle of wildly thrashing arms and legs. Once we were all on the floor together, Laura's excited screams abruptly turned into strangled gasps. Uncle Malcolm had managed to suck both her rigid nipples into his mouth together. An instant later her gasps turned into an anguished moan. Marie's mouth had closed upon Laura's cunt, which obviously was still as supersensitive as mine was from the whipping. Then I got my tongue into the crack of Laura's ass. The first lick I made up across her quivering asshole drove an anguished-sounding scream up out of her that was no put-on.
Only a split second later all the muscles throughout Laura's entire ass cut loose with pulsating spasms; we had her launched and heading into space. One quavering, continuous scream came out of her as she went. The three of us were overwhelming her with sensation from so many different areas. I began feeling really scared we might be making her actually blow her mind completely.
I didn't know whether I should keep on licking Laura's pulsating asshole or not. She helped me make up my mind; she cut loose with a long series of staccatolike farts. They came whistling from her each time the pulsating muscles around her asshole relaxed momentarily before clamping down frantically tight again. Believe me, I got my face to hell away from her line of fire.
But Marie on the floor under her kept right on lapping away at Laura's quaking cunt like a greedy bear licking honey. And Uncle Malcolm went right on gobbling Laura's tits like he was determined to make all of them disappear into his greedy mouth at once. Laura didn't even seem to miss my tongue on her asshole; she kept right on giving out that moaning scream, coming and farting and coming some more. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, her mouth hung open, then clamped shut to grind her teeth. Her whole body was trembling and shaking, kind of like she was in the throes of some kind of fit. She looked to me like she'd really freaked out all the way, like she might be getting out beyond the point of no return.
Before I could do anything, however, Laura suddenly collapsed on top of Marie and Uncle Malcolm, her arms and legs giving away like all her bones and muscles had turned to jelly. Marie jerked her head out from under Laura gasping for breath. She'd been nearly smothered by Laura's cunt being plastered down hard over her face. At the other end, Uncle Malcolm had to come up for air too. But Laura kept right on moaning, her whole body jerking slightly with convulsive little tremors, for at least another minute after they'd quit teasing her cunt and tits. The convulsive tremors finally stopped. She just lay there like a collapsed balloon. Whimpering little moans still came out of her from time to time. I was really scared Laura'd never be the same again.
After another minute or so, she began to struggle and slowly turned herself over on her back. At first her face was just a blank. Then she got her eyes focused and looked up at us. Relief flooded through me when her blank expression changed into a big, blissful smile. She murmured, "What's next, fearless leader?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Marie took us from the Room of Gentle Restraints to an elaborate gym. "Top physical conditioning is very important to us in our profession," she explained in response to the wide-eyed look of surprise Laura and I gave the room. But we quickly discovered she hadn't taken us there for a workout. We followed her into another room opening off the gym and found there a big sauna bath, a steam room adjoining, and a Roman bath as large as a small swimming pool.
I stooped and dipped a finger into the water, expecting to find it warm; instead it was freezing.
Marie chuckled at my startled look. "It's refrigerated," she explained.
"Refrigerated?" I exclaimed. "Why?"
"To pull the water temp down almost to freezing," she told me. "But why?" I insisted. "So you can do like the Finns and other Scandinavians do at their rural bathhouses."
"Do what like they do?"
"First steam yourself in the sauna or steam room until you look like a lobster," Marie explained, "then run and jump into the icy water and splash around a minute or two before you have your rubdown."
"That's complete insanity!" Laura exclaimed, expressing my sentiments exactly.
"You'd be amazed how sexy it leaves you feeling," Marie said. "Practically all Scandinavian people practice it in one form or another. Of course, they usually don't have this kind of convenience, particularly in rural areas."
"I don't want to hear about it," Laura declared.
But Marie kept on as if she hadn't heard. "They have to break a big hole through perhaps two feet of ice over the water of a river or lake. Then they all go into the bathhouse and sit around steaming themselves, men, women, and children, all together, all bare-assed nude."
I said, "If they'd get smart and leave the kids at home, that sounds like it could get real sexy."
Laura chimed in, "I'll bet it can get sexy even with all the kids right there. That's probably why someone came up with the idea of jumping into cold water, to keep it from turning into an orgy. I'll bet that may even be where the expression about throwing cold water came from."
"Anyhow," Marie went on, "they race from their steaming bathhouse into below zero weather outside and jump through the hole in the ice into that freezing water."
"Just think how many hundred thousands of beautiful masculine hards that must have completely wilted," Laura wailed, "That's real sadism or masochism!"
"That's real insanity!" I exclaimed.
"It probably originated as a primitive method of birth control," Laura suggested with a giggle.
"It's really not all that bad with all the comfort and convenience we have here," Marie insisted. Turning to Uncle Malcolm she proposed, "Come on, Malcolm, let's show these two sissies."
He nodded. "Whatever you say, fearless leader." Marie gave him a half frown, half smile, protesting, "Don't you start that!" Then she pointed to a big shower stall, glancing at Laura and me, suggesting, "You two can be square and conventional and wash off the perspiration in there, if you want to, while Malcom and I get steamed."
Fifteen minutes later Laura and I had finished our shower so long before we'd almost forgotten about it. I, for one, had begun wondering if Marie and Uncle Malcolm had sneaked out somewhere and left us there like two snipe hunters.
Then the steam room door flew open abruptly and Marie appeared from the cloud of steam that came billowing out. She was beet red all over. Tits swinging, she sprinted to the Roman bath and jumped into the freezing water. Just watching it made me cringe. Right on her heels came Uncle Malcolm, just as lobsterlike all over as Marie. He went into the cold water with an even greater splash than she'd raised. I expected them both to have heart failure, turn stiff as boards, sink to the bottom, and drown. But an instant later they both surfaced, gasping, teeth chattering. The lobster look was entirely gone, leaving Marie's skin a creamy white and Uncle Malcolm's looking like it belonged to a marble statue.
Laura and I grabbed big towels and ran to help them climb from the freezing water. I happened to draw Uncle Malcolm. I began rubbing him down as he walked shivering to a nearby table. He grabbed a towel and began drying his hair while I toweled off his legs and lower belly. His penis had shriveled up into little more than a soft thumb of flesh, the head of it a purplish-blue from the cold, I guess.
Impulsively I bent over it and kissed it. I giggled at the little gasp that brought out of Uncle. He stood frozen for a moment, both hands still holding the towel to his head, neither of them moving. As if surprised, I said, "You felt that!"
Uncle nodded, then murmured, "He may look frozen to death, but you could thaw him out real fast if you decided to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"Would you enjoy that?" I asked coyly.
"Why don't we experiment, find out?" he pro- posed.
"That won't violate your promise to the boss lady?" I asked.
"I'll risk it," he murmured. One of his hands came down from his head to cup one of my naked boobs gently. "Sweet Trina," he said in a husky whisper, you look delectable."
I let my knees hinge, sinking toward the floor. His hand lowered with me, continuing to firmly cup my tit, his thumb and forefinger caressing the nipple between them. When my mouth was level with his shriveled cock, I discovered it no longer was quite so shriveled; it was starting to show signs of renewed interest in life. I stuck out my tongue and gave Uncle a drooling lick, starting at the bottom of his balls and ending at the purplish-blue tip of his reviving cock. For an instant he shook like a chill had hit him. I closed my lips around the head of it. As I started sucking it, I teased the sensitive underside with the tip of my tongue. I felt his cock begin to swell in my mouth like a balloon being inflated. A gusty gasp exploded from Uncle Malcolm. I pulled away instantly, releasing him from my mouth, and looked up to ask innocently, "Did I hurt you?"
"If you did, please hurt me some more," he said tightly.
I glanced back at his cock. I was amazed to find it had more than doubled in size in just those few seconds and was still ballooning. As if reading my mind, he said, "Something about you shoves my blood pressure right off the scale."
I started to suck it back into my mouth, his obvious rekindling of excitement beginning to create a new buzz in me. Before my mouth touched his cock again, Uncle Malcolm caught me under the other armpit with his other hand, leaving the towel draped upon his head. He raised me until I stood straight before him. He suggested, "Why don't we make this an ex-perience of mutual pleasure?
I enjoy just giving you pleasure," I told him.
He countered, "But you'll enjoy it even more if I'm doing something to you too that creates pleasure."
As if to prove his point, he drew the fingertips of both hands forward from my armpits along my mannary glands. I was amazed to feel a rising tide of sensation being created throughout the rest of my full breasts, filling them with an electric tingling. My nipples were suddenly like two tiny male cocks, rigid with anticipation. And that anticipation skyrocketed the voltage of the sensations.
Before those caressing fingertips reached my nipples, already aching for their touch, he stopped their forward movement. I was ready to protest, but went mute when he again touched my breasts just under my armpits. He started another long, slow forward stroke along the swelling fullness of my breasts. The closer those caressing fingertips approached to my arching nipples, the more electrifying became the flood of sensation surging out of my breasts and down into my crotch. Suddenly my clitoris was burning with excitement. The lips and inner surfaces of my whole cunt were oozing with its slippery sweat of excitement.
Uncle Malcolm's magic fingertips bunched closely, nearing my tingling nipples. Thumb and forefinger on each side closed upon my nipples and began gently pulling them. I realized abruptly that my response to him was strangely intense and amazingly rapid. Something about him was shoving my blood pressure up off the scale, too. He sensed it and gave me a pleased smile. He asked, "Isn't that a lot better?"
I nodded mutely, then remembered how this had started and glanced down at his cock; it was standing proudly at attention. Uncle Malcolm noticed my glance and chuckled, explaining, "Nothing revives my sexual capacity faster than the stimulating sight of a beautiful young nymph like you responding to my caresses. That's the greatest aphrodisiac I've ever found. It does something magical to the male ego that makes the penis swell with pride, even sometimes when I don't really want it to."
Marie spoke up, declaring, "This may be a great place to take a bath, but this floor's not my idea of an ideal place to make love. Why don't we adjourn to my apartment? There's soft carpet on the floor. Even a big bed, if you want to use it."
"Good idea!" Uncle Malcolm exclaimed. He grabbed my hand. "Come on!"
"What about our clothes?" I protested as he hurried me toward the nearest door.
He pretended to misunderstand, declaring, "Clothes only get in your way when you're enjoying the fun and games we have scheduled. We won't need them until later."
We went tripping down a long hallway from the gym to Marie's personal apartment without running into any other patrons of the exotic establishment. The possibility of such an encounter seemed to only heighten my excitement. By the time the door of Marie's apartment closed behind us, I was burning with desire to be fucked. Not licked or sucked or fingered. Not even the sophisticated substitute of silk and velvet whipping in restraint would satisfy my craving. I felt a deep, gut-aching need to be treated to the joys of an old-fashioned fucking.
I gripped Uncle Malcolm's rigid cock gently but firmly, like it was a handle, and turned him to me there just inside the door. "I want you in me," I whispered. "I've had everything else except a good old-fashioned fuck, but that's what I really need. I haven't had a fuck since I left Wyoming and I've stood it as long as I can. Won't you--"
"I promised not to!" Uncle Malcolm interrupted.
"Your friend'll never know," I protested.
He chuckled with a wry expression. "That's what you may think. She has every move we've made on magnetic video tape."
"What?" I screeched.
He nodded. "Closed circuit TV cameras every- where. We'll see some of it later. Anything you do here is like putting on a performance in a fishbowl."
"Good Lord," I gasped, "what about blackmail?"
"That's the whole idea," he told me calmly. "What?"
He nodded. "A very limited or selective kind of blackmail. No one can talk about what goes on up here without inviting personal exposure with motion pictures and soundtract to render a denial impossible. Consequently, in all the years since the lady started this business, not one client or even a one-time visitor has ever breathed a word to anyone outside about its existence."
"Good Lord, where's my clothes?" I demanded. "I'm no exhibitionist! I can't enjoy sex in a fishbowl! Let's get out of here and find a nice motel where we can do whatever we want to without anyone taking pictures."
"I have a beach house and private beach above Malibu that will do far better for that purpose than a motel," Uncle Malcolm told me. "But let's not rush it."
"Rush it hell!" I snapped at him. "I can't get back into my clothes fast enough. I don't even like having candid pictures taken of me when I'm dressed."
I suddenly realized I still held him by his rigid cock; I jerked my hand away like it felt red-hot. I glanced around guiltily, searching for the gleaming eye of one of those damned hidden cameras.
"What about our little party?" Uncle Malcolm asked, disappointment in his low voice.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Before I could respond to Uncle Malcolm's question, Marie spoke up, asking, "Will you excuse us girls for just a few minutes, Malcolm honey? I want to show our two bunnies something in the powder room."
That surprised me. I glanced at Laura. She made a gesture with her head, telling me to come on and ask any questions I had later. The three of us trooped away into Marie's luxurious dressing room and bathroom. Once the door was closed, Marie turned on me, demanding, "Why the hell don't you smarten up and stop this hick-from-the-sticks act? You don't turn a man like Malcolm on the way you have, then just tell him to forget about it and put your clothes on and go home."
"Don't you talk down to me, damn you," I snapped right back. "Why didn't you tell us about the son-of-a-bitchin' TV cameras in the very first place? I'd never have done anything to turn him on if I'd known about them first."
"You wouldn't know about them now, if it'd been left up to me," Marie shot back at me. "You're a spoiled, empty-headed little brat who can't stand knowing too much without having it blow your simple mind. Malcolm was a fool to have told you anything. He should've known better than to've tried to treat you like an adult. I suppose I really shouldn't feel sorry for him."
"Screw you through the ears," I told her. "You don't feel sorry for him at all! You're jealous, that's what's got your persimmon cunt turned crosswise."
"I'd be as simple-minded as you are if I didn't wish I could turn on a man like Malcolm the way you seem to," Marie declared frankly. "When a man like that goes for a girl, he can do a lot for her in more ways than one."
"He'll probably never invite us out ever again if you disappoint him now," Laura chimed in. "Why'd you have to go teasing him all up like you did if you weren't going to go through--" I cut in sharply, "Because when I was teasing him up, I didn't know we were on candid camera! Haven't you been listening?"
Laura glanced at Marie, appealing, "Isn't there someplace--"
"My walk-in closet there," Marie interrupted, gesturing to a door opening off the dressing room, "doesn't have a camera covering it. And the floor's carpeted."
"Why didn't you say so in the first place, in- stead of making with the lecture bullshit?" I demanded. "If you're really so worried about him not getting disappointed, get your ass out of here and send Malcolm in."
A minute later Malcolm joined me as I stood in Marie's closet gawking at the biggest array of the most beautiful dresses I'd ever seen in one place. And shoes! I hadn't dreamed any one woman in the whole world could own so many different pairs of beautiful shoes. I guess I must have looked a lot like some drooling-mouthed kid in a candy store, the way Malcolm chuckled.
Then he asked, "Would you like to own a closet like this?"
I said, "You can keep the damned closet, just give me all that's in it!"
That brought another chuckle out of him. He said, "You'll likely wind up with a closet as big and as well stocked as this for your personal maid. Have one at least five times as big and ten times as expensively stocked for yourself. I have a hunch you'll develop expensive tastes like wildfire, once you get started."
I put one hand out and brought the fingertips stroking lightly upward from Uncle Malcolm's balls to the very tip of the sensitive underside of his stiff cock. That brought a little sigh of pleasure out of him. I glanced around at the closet where we stood, murmuring, "This little old closet's bigger'n a lot of whole bedrooms back in Wyoming. There's a nice soft rug on the floor and Marie swears there's no snoopy candid cameras spying on us in here. No one'll be the wiser about anything we do in here. Why don't you give me that loving big screw we're both wanting so much we can hardly stand it?" I stared in amazement when Uncle Malcolm shook his head. He glanced past me at the floor-to-ceiling mirror covering the back wall of the closet, declaring, "I'd know. I like being able to face myself in a mirror, like seeing someone I know can be depended on to keep his word when he gives a promise."
I glanced at our full-length reflection which revealed every move I made as I continued caressing his hard cock. I said, in a tone full of innocence, "Golly, what a lucky woman your wife is, having a husband who's so utterly dependable about keeping his promises."
He laughed and slapped me on the bare ass affectionately, declaring, "You're a real meow cat when you feel like it aren't you? But I'm not the hypocrite you obviously think. It just so happens that I don't have a wife."
"You poor, lonely man," I said in mock sympathy and bent quickly to kiss the purplish head of his swollen cock. Then I let my legs sort of crumple under me and sank down upon the softness of the thick carpet. I hardly got my ass on the floor before he was down there beside me.
I may have been still only a green kid from Wyoming, but I'd learned that in order for any woman to make love to any man the very best she possibly can, she has to learn the territory. There's one hell of a lot more to every man than his cock that should be loved and thoroughly stimulated in order to load him with a full charge of sexual sensations. In fact, his cock is the very last part of him that should be given prolonged attention.
I'd read in one of the books Laura and I had smuggled into our room that the very first thing a smart woman does in starting to make love to a man is to give her attention to his head. The inside of his head. That she never forgets the vital importance of arousing him mentally. That she begins her campaign by creating pictures in his mind that will set him on fire.
I told Uncle Malcolm, "I'm going to eat all of you. I'm going to act like you were covered with whipped cream and I'm going to lick and kiss and suck every delicious part of you."
I pushed him down flat upon the floor and bent over him. I murmured, "What's more, I'm going to enter you, going to penetrate you, even if you won't penetrate me. I didn't promise anyone anything about not doing anything I wanted to. And I want to go into you, lover. I want to feel the warmth of you around me. When you feel the slippery, sucking, licking hotness of my mouth around your tingling cock, I'm going to be feeling the slippery, gripping, hungry hot-ness of your ass around my fingers as they reach deeply, caressingly far inside you. They'll drive you nearly crazy with added sensation as my greedy mouth eats your electrified cock."
I suddenly covered one of his nipples with a hot, wet kiss and sucked it into my mouth. Instantly the tiny nipple became excitedly erect inside my mouth. Like a majority of men, he owned a pair of nipples that were more sexually sensitive than he may have previously been aware of. While my mouth was busy kissing and sucking and teasing one nipple, then the other, my hands were busy too. Moving over his body, caressing his inner thighs, giving his balls and hard penis a loving flick in passing, then zig-zagging upward across his lower belly. I sucked and licked and kissed. I lightly, teas-ingly, caressed the front of his body until I had him panting with short, gasping little moans of pleasure.
Then I turned him over on his belly abruptly. Quickly I mounted him, pressing my hot cunt against the cheeks of his ass. I wriggled it back and forth against him while I kissed and nibbled and licked at his ears and the back of his neck. All the while my hands kept busy too. Stroking upward lightly, caressingly, along the sides of his upper legs to his flanks, thrusting into the hollow just above his hips until I touched the hardness of his cock momentarily as it lay sandwiched between his belly and the floor. Just a touch was all I'd give it. Each time he'd groan and grind his ass upward against my feverish cunt. It was obvious that I was giving him sensations that were keeping his blood pressure climbing.
I kissed and licked my way downward over his marvelous muscular back. Now and then I gave him just the tiniest nip with my teeth. Several times I discovered places that were especially responsive. Before I reached the small of his back, I suddenly changed my posi- tion, switching ends. I plastered my hot cunt against the back of his neck and gripped his head between my thighs while I resumed the journey of licks and nibbles and kisses toward his ass. I put both hands in under him, gripping his hardness lovingly with one while the other began tickling and teasing the head of it. He began making little humping motions with his hips, fucking my hand as he uttered low groans of pleasure.
My mouth reached the crack of his ass after I'd given him a series of nips scattered over the cheeks on either side of it. I released my loving grip on his hard cock and thrust both hands in between his thighs and spread his legs open wide, opening the crack of his ass, revealing the puckered, brownish asshole. It still had the faint, sweet smell of the body lotion he'd rubbed into his skin while he was in the steam room with Marie. What's even more likely is that she'd rubbed it into his open pores. Regardless of how it got there, its fragrance still lingered, clean and sweet and inviting.
I flooded my tongue with saliva and licked wetly down across Uncle Malcolm's puckered asshole. He gasped. I licked on across the sensitive area between his asshole and his scrotum. His first sharp gasp turned into a sighing little moan. I licked on downward as far as I could across the lower part of his balls. Then I came back up and started all over again.
As my hot tongue touched Uncle Malcolm's asshole that second time, an explosive, "Good Lord!" came gasping out of him. I stayed right with it that time, licking around and around it. Then I began thrusting at it with the tip of my tongue, trying to lick into it, saturating it with my saliva.
When I had Uncle Malcolm's asshole thoroughly lubricated, I raised my face away from his ass abruptly. I quickly coated my right forefinger with saliva, then gently but insistently began working it into his asshole. That brought another explosive, "Good Lord!" out of him. The muscles closing his asshole tried to resist my intruding finger, but I worked it through their resistance and slipped on inside him. My exploring finger felt the hotness of his inner body close around it. It was strangely exciting to me; I felt my wet cunt, rubbing back and forth against the back of his neck, grow even hotter and wetter as the juices of my rising excitement began gushing from it.
I began thrusting my finger in and out of Uncle Malcolm's tight asshole. A shuddering moan came quavering out of him. He renewed the little humping movements with his hips. I leaned down and bit him lightly on the cheek of his moving ass. Then I pulled my finger out of his asshole and said, "Ready or not, turn over!"
Instantly Uncle Malcolm turned himself under me. Before I realized he was on his back, his face was buried in my curly muff. His mouth began to gobble greedily at my drooling cunt, drawing a grunting moan out of me. Lord, but that slurping mouth and tongue of his felt groovy on my feverish cunt. I spread my knees wider, letting my ass sink lower so he didn't have to raise his head off the carpet to get at me. It felt heavenly. He began rapidly kissing and sucking and tonguing my cunt.
Like I always say, one good lick deserves another. I gave good measure by thrusting my finger back deep into Uncle Malcolm's asshole while I gave his cock a hot lick from its roots to its purplish, swollen head. His mouth jerked away from my cunt momentarily as he stiffened and gasped another explosive, "Good Lord!"
He grabbed my hips with both hands and plastered his face into my cunt, licking and sucking and moaning like he was going out of his mind. I started sliding his hard cock into my mouth while my finger thrust in and out of his quivering asshole. My feverish tongue was licking around and around his swollen cock as it slid slowly deeper and deeper into my mouth. My lips were tightening, releasing, and tightening again around his hard shaft like a pulsating pussy.
Finally his whole cock was in my mouth, my lips pressed tightly against the mat of curly pubic hair covering the roots of it. That's another nice thing about a man who doesn't have a horse-cock; he doesn't dislocate your jaws or strangle you when you give him a blow job. I'd learned while sucking Tom's sweet young cock to take the whole length of a reasonable-sized cock into my mouth without gagging. It takes a little practice, but of course Tom and I had gotten a lot of practice mouthing and tonguing each other before we finally worked up to real screwing. I'd learned to contract the mus- cles of my throat around the head of Tom's cock in a way that nearly drove him right out of his gourd. I tried that trick now on Uncle Malcolm. He stiffened again under me. His hands released their frantic clutching at my hips and ass. A long, strangled. "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" came gurgling out through the thick muff around my pussy. I had a trick that would drive even a veteran like Uncle Malcolm straight out of his mind.
I released the grip of my throat muscles around the tingling head of Uncle Malcolm's cock and began raising my head, letting his slippery cock come sliding back out of my mouth. Instantly he went back to his frantic gobbling at my steaming cunt, both hands again clutching at and kneading at the cheeks of my ass like they were loaves of fresh dough.
I began sliding Uncle Malcolm's cock in and out of my mouth in rhythm with my finger thrusting in and out of his asshole. I could feel his entire body under me, trembling and shaking with the surging waves of sensation I was giving him. That seemed erotic as hell to me, really zinging my blood pressure, along with the charge of sensation his gobbling lips and tongue were creating in my tingling cunt. It was my turn to begin mumbling, "Oh, Lordy, Lordy! Oh, Lordy, Lord!" around Uncle Malcolm's rigid cock as it stroked in and out of my mouth.
My first orgasm hit me! Talk about nearly blowing your mind! I had to clutch at my consciousness and hang on for dear life to keep from forgetting all about what I was supposed to be doing. It was almost more than I could do to resist the urge to just let myself go, to just float away on those waves of billowing sensation. But I was doing my damnedest to make it as good as I possibly could for Uncle Malcolm. I had to stay in control, regardless of how hard I might be coming. Just struggling to keep myself under control seemed to make my torrents of sensation more intense and my struggle against being overwhelmed by them that much more desperate.
I hung onto myself and kept sucking and licking at Uncle Malcolm's cock and stroking in and out of his quivering asshole with my finger. Just as I began to come for the third time, a great shudder went through him. His cock began jerking with intense pulsations that sent his hot come juice geyersing into my mouth and throat in torrents. I nearly strangled, almost unable to swallow it fast enough. I gulped Uncle Malcolm's come-juice down, gasped for breath, and kept on sucking him until I'd drained him dry.
I'll say this for Uncle Malcolm, he didn't slack off just because he'd shot his wad and the rocket ride was over for him; no, he kept right on scarfing away at my cunt like his appetite for my honey box was insatiable. As his hard started melting, he sent me shooting off on my fifth orgasm. I let his wilting cock slip out of my mouth and ground my teeth the way I'd been dying to, my head rolling back against my shoulders. Lordy, but it felt good not having to control myself any longer. I pulled my finger out of his asshole and raised my upper body a little so I could push my pulsating cunt down harder against that marvelous mouth of his. The burning tip of his tongue went flitting around my blazing clitoris. I turned loose completely, at long last and began to really blow my mind. I heard someone screaming like she was being torn limb from limb, then felt surprised as I sensed that the sound must be coming out of me.
There was a sudden blaze of light in that fancy closet which had become my entire world. Even though my eyes were clenched tightly shut with the excruciating intensity of my raging sea of sensation, I sensed the blaze of blinding brightness that suddenly surrounded us. My eyes flashed open. I saw concealed lights blazing from all corners of the small room and from overhead. I froze, my orgasm chopped short. The lights went off as abruptly as they'd come on, leaving only the subdued indirect lighting we'd had when our supposedly private session began.
"What the hell was that?" I demanded in alarm, not absolutely certain my mind hadn't blown a fuse. On the floor under me, Uncle Malcolm pulled his face from under my cunt, his mouth and chin covered with a lather of my foaming juices. He grinned up at me and chuckled, "Smile, sweetie, you've just been on candid camera again." He pointed at the mirror. "That's a big one-way window and this supposed clothes closet is actually a very carefully lighted photography studio especially designed to produce exciting candid stills, rather that TV type motion pictures."
"I could kill you! The whole bunch of you!"
I fumed. Then suddenly I saw the ridiculous side of it. I looked down at Uncle Malcolm and began to howl with laughter.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I looked like someone suffering the agonies of torture, in the still picture Marie and Laura had taken while I was in the midst of that final orgasm. I told them, "You'd want to kill anyone who took a picture of you looking like that! And then you'd kill them again for making a disaster out of the orgasm that had you looking like that!"
"You think that's something," Marie laughed, "you should see some of the moving pictures, and in living color yet, that we get in our sex laboratory."
"Sex laboratory?" Laura and I chorused together.
Marie nodded. "We have a sex lab in perfect working order. A girl can fuck herself with a plastic penis rigged to take motion pictures in living color of everything that happens inside her vagina from start to the finish of orgasm and a fresh start all over again as long as she feels like keeping on. And while one camera's taking pictures of what she's doing inside, another's recording all her body and facial movements and expressions while machines record her heartbeat, blood pressure, respiration, temperature, her brain waves, the works." Laura said, "I think that would be scary, being fucked by a machine!"
"Are you crazy or just completely inexperienced?" Marie demanded in a pitying tone. "That machine is a perfect gentleman, and I do mean perfect, compared to a lot of the male clods in human form. A girl can control the machine. Just wait and see how much control you have over a lot of so-called he men."
I asked, "What do you mean, she can control it?"
"She can control how fast or slow it shoves the penis to her," Marie explained. "She can control how deep or shallow the thrusts into her are. She can make it hammer into her hard, if she enjoys having it thrown to her roughly, or she can make it be very gentle. Everything from start to finish is under her control. She can even select the penis size that feels best to her. The only thing she can't do is make the damned thing kiss her and caress her breasts. But I think the lady in charge has a mechanical genius working on new accessories that'll even do that."
"Has anyone invented a mechanical cunt that'll do the same thing for a man?" Laura asked.
Marie shook her head. "A woman's vagina is a lot more complex than a penis. No mortal genius has been able to duplicate the female vagina satisfactorily. But we do have a miracle gadget some men find a lot more interesting than a mechanical vagina would be."
"What kind of a badget would that be?" I asked.
"It?s a small black box no bigger than a transistor radio," Marie told me, "with its own power-pack. It was engineered by Japanese electronics' experts to enable an impotent man to become very potent."
"How on earth can it do that?" Laura wanted to know.
I chuckled, asking, "You mean it can actually put fresh lead into a limp dick?"
Marie nodded. "It has two electrodes. One fastens to the base of the penis, the other is inserted into the rectum. After those electrodes are in place, when a man turns on the gadget, it turns him on by sending high-frequency impulses into the nerves that control his sexual reflexes. In other words, it gives him an immediate and a powerful erection. And he can keep it hard and screw with it for as long as he likes. When he wants to come, he just turns up the control, increasing the intensity and frequency of the electronic impulses being poured into his nerves through the electrodes. In fact, he doesn't really even need a woman or her vagina."
Uncle Malcolm had been laying on Marie's bed listening, resting up from the workout I'd given his cock in Marie's closet. Now he spoke up, declaring, "Don't kid yourself. No electronic gadget can eliminate a man's need for the goodness of a woman's softness and the warmth of her vagina. There's a lot more to good sex than just being able to shoot your wad. Like I've said, a man needs those good old-fashioned feelings only a real woman can give him. That electronic thing will never give real women, like you three, any competition whatever. But it might be a wonderful crutch for the poor guy who's gotten something disconnected or out of gear in his head that's made him impotent. He'd probably think the thing was a godsend during the time his head shrinker spends digging out and correcting the cause of his problem."
"You'd better believe it," Marie chuckled. "You should see some of that kind after that gadget's enabled them to enjoy their first thoroughly successful fuck in months, or sometimes even years. They'll do anything for the girl they've just fucked and for our boss lady! They become the most enthusiastic supporters this place has."
Laura said wistfully, "I wish there was something like that for girls that we could take back to school."
"But there is, sweetie," Marie exclaimed. "Let me show you the marvel Japanese engineering has created for the lonely girl." She hurried to her dressing table, opened a lower drawer, then straightened and turned back to us. She was holding up a flesh-colored object that looked exactly like a man's penis. She said, "Behold, the latest electronic dildo with built-in power-pack and self-controlled rate of vibration. Available in assorted sizes to suit my lady's preference of the moment."
She turned back, stooping again, this time displaying a fancy case containing an assortment of the gadgets in a dozen sizes, all the way from one about the size of a forefinger up to an eigh-teen-inch horse-cock.
Laura took one glance at the big one and shrieked, "What's that for?"
Marie chuckled, declaring, "For helping your pet mare masturbate, I guess. I can't believe any woman could ever enjoy a thing that size. Or maybe it's just to make a girl thankful she's never gotten cornered by a man who really had one that size. I don't know."
Laura began fingering the various-sized mechanical cocks, acting fascinated. Suddenly she asked, "Can I try one?"
Marie glanced at Uncle Malcolm, frowning as she asked, "What do you think?"
He sat up on the bed, shaking his head. "Not here. That would still be penetration."
Laura protested, "I suppose you weren't penetrating Trina's mouth a while ago?"
Instantly he soothed, "I'll tell you what. How'd you like a complete set all your own?"
Laura brightened like a kid finding exactly what she'd hoped against hope for under the Christmas tree. Almost instantly the look was gone, replaced by another frown. She murmured, "If we got caught with anything like that in our room, we'd both get kicked out of school and our parents would be shown--" Uncle Malcolm interrupted, "I've seen a set that's hidden in a secret compartment in what looks like just a handsome piece of expensive luggage. You'd have to be caught with the compartment open or try to bring it back into the country through customs; otherwise your secret would never be discovered. How about that?"
"But wouldn't that be awfully expensive?" Laura asked incredulously.
"Don't worry about it," Uncle Malcolm smiled.
Laura glanced at me, then back at him. Hesitantly she asked, "You mean... one for both of us, or... one for--"
"One for each of you," Uncle Malcolm interrupted, chuckling. "I'm sure our hostess has at least two sets of that model in stock. And the dildos in that set are all of a little finer quality material and craftsmanship, I think, than any of the others. It's the super deluxe, top of the line, set... which is what you two lovely nieces of mine are worthy of."
Laura let out a little shriek of delight, ran to Uncle Malcolm, her tits bobbing, jumped on his lap, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He fell back flat upon the bed with her on top of him, her tits pressed as tightly against his chest as her lips were against his. She was obviously trying to give him a French kiss to end, or outdo, all.
Uncle Malcolm's limp dick suddenly began stirring with signs of renewed life. I glanced at Marie. She was shaking her head, smiling. When she saw my look, she murmured, "You two kids sure do have the magic key that turns Malcolm on. No wonder he's ready to spend five hundred dollars apiece buying each of you a personal set of the world's fanciest dildos to remember him by. I just wish I could turn him on like that; it'd cost him one hell of a lot more than a lousy thousand bucks."
I nearly fainted, echoing, "A thousand bucks?" But Marie didn't notice. She was moving in to join Laura and Uncle Malcolm on her bed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
One day the following week I realized that Laura and I were rushing back to our room every afternoon after classes exactly like Tom and I had been rushing home from school every afternoon a few months earlier. And for exactly the same reason: sex!
However, I won't pretend that lesbian sex or sex with a dildo, even a top-of-the-line, super-deluxe dildo, can compare to having sex with a warm, loving human being like Tom. On the other hand, I'll have to admit that the most loving man, regardless of how skillful he is as a lover, can't duplicate the sensations a girl can get from turning on a vibrator dildo in her cunt and another one in her asshole at the same time. Lordy, Lord!
Laura had never been fucked in the asshole before she met me. In fact, she admitted just the idea of such a thing had seemed thoroughly dis- gusting to her and that she would have refused to even consider experimenting with it. Her mind had been closed, like a vise.
But after watching Uncle Malcolm ream Marie's asshole, then watching me go ape with one of my new dildos in mine a time or two, Laura got curious. And she was lucky enough to have the right equipment available. I mean, I've got to admit that the little dildo in our sets is a lot better than the average man's cock to get a girl's asshole accustomed to being fucked. I'd just been lucky enough to catch Tom before his young cock began to really grow. Otherwise, if he'd hurt me the first time we experimented with fucking that way, I'd probably have gotten scared out like a lot of women do and refused to ever again try it.
So Laura was fortunate in having the best equipment available when she finally decided to try it; she found that little dildo slipped into her tight asshole without a bit of discomfort. She looked at me kind of starry-eyed with excitement about this new adventure, and asked, "When I'm ready, will you switch it on for me, Trina?"
I nodded.
She picked out one of the larger dildos for her cunt, then stretched out on top of her bed on her side and closed her eyes. For several minutes she lay there perfectly quiet, tuning in on the feel of her body while she turned her imagination on full blast. I knew what she was doing because I'd taught her the trick. I still saw Tom in my imagination at such times, but I knew Laura was dreaming up an image of a TV star. As she lay there she was imagining she saw him walk up beside her bed and stop, looking down at her naked, hungry body. Then he bent over her, his hands beginning to caress her breasts. From there she felt him moving his hands lovingly down over her abdomen. Slowly they passed on either side of her aching pussy and began stroking the inside of her thighs.
I could almost tell the exact step where Laura was in her imagination by the changes in her breathing. Then her dream man's hands moved to her hungry cunt; she switched on the vibrating dildo she held in her hands and applied it lightly to her clitoris, letting it become his caressing hands and rigid cock in one.
She took her time, savoring the rising sensations, letting herself go, becoming deliciously swallowed up in the continuous, rhythmic stimulation of the vibrating dildo. She moved it slowly up and down and around her clitoris and finally began sinking it into her cunt. As the vibrating shaft sank into her deeper, her pelvis arched up to it, as if she felt her fantasy man's body pressing down upon hers when she turned upon her back to welcome him.
Laura stroked the humming dildo in and out of her drooling cunt half a dozen times. Her breath had started coming and going in short gasps. Just watching her I knew she was feeling the promise of coming.
Then she said, "Now!" It came out low but explosively. I reached in between her widespread, upraised knees. I found the little con- trol levers of the smaller dildo in her asshole slippery from juices that had run down from her excited cunt and covered them. I turned the vibration control on full blast.
Almost instantly an anguished scream of ecstasy ripped out of Laura. Frantically I grabbed a pillow from the head of her bed and clapped it over her face to smother the piercing sound before she betrayed us. I realized suddenly that I was trembling, my straining ears cocked toward the hallway outside.
No sound of anyone hurrying toward our door reached me. I relaxed a bit, glancing down at Laura. Both dildos were still in her to the hilt, vibrating away steadily, but both her hands were clawing at the pillow I had pulled down over her face. It hit me abruptly that I not only had smothered the betraying sounds she'd started making, I might also be smothering her as well. I jerked the pillow up off her face. Laura drew breath inward in a long, frantic gasp. She stared up at me above her, her eyes wide, frightened and bewildered. Suddenly I felt like a Judas. I hissed defensively, "You started screaming your fool head off!"
"Sorry!" Laura whispered as her breath gushed back out. She began sucking in more, then abruptly gasped, "Oh, Lord!... Lordy, Lord!" One hand grabbed frantically for the grip at the base of the dildo buried in her cunt. She began stroking it in and out of her cunt again in furious thrusts, as if trying to make up for lost time. Words came gasping out of her as she promised, "I'll try... not to... scream again! Ohhhh! I'm gonna... come!"
Once she had started again, Laura came and came, one orgasm right on the heels of another. Finally I decided she never was going to stop if I didn't help her. I turned off the furiously vibrating dildo in her asshole. The internal muscle spasms shaking her whole lower belly began easing almost immediately. Within a minute she switched off the larger dildo, acting like that took almost all the strength she had left. Her hand fell to the mattress beside her, leaving the artificial cock still buried to its hilt in her cunt. Laura lay there gasping like a completely winded runner, acting too weak to move. I pulled the two dildos out of her and took them to the bathroom to wash and sterilize them.
When I came back into our bedroom, Laura's breathing had returned to normal. She still looked limp, but she looked up at me with a kind of blissful smile of utter contentment. She murmured, "It really does multiply the sensations, just like you told me it would. Terrific! Far out! Right on, and all that jazz!... What a trip! Why mess with dangerous drugs when a pair of dildos can send you on a mind blasting trip like that?"
"You liked the feeling it gave you in your asshole, did you?" I chuckled, brushing hair back from her sweaty forehead.
Laura nodded weakly. "I'm hooked, fearless leader. In no time at all you'll likely have me ready to try it with a guy."
"But never with a stranger," I warned wisely.
"Asshole fucking is restricted to close friends only; men whose sexual style and techniques are already well known."
"And the size of whose male equipment also is well known to you," Laura added in the same sage manner I'd used.
I nodded.
She was thoughtful for a moment, then tentatively suggested, "How would dear Uncle Malcolm strike you as a candidate?"
"I don't think he's interested in politics," I came right back without a trace of flippancy.
"But he did seem to dig that asshole fucking he did with Marie," Laura reminded.
"The size of his equipment is near perfect," I admitted, "but he's still not what I'd rate as a close friend whose sexual style and techniques are well known."
Laura shook her head, then murmured, "Well, I don't know about you, fearless leader, but for my part, I can count on one finger the friends that I've done the kind of things with that we did with Uncle Malcolm. If he doesn't fill the specifications, I'm fresh out of prospects."
"And as long as we're caged up in this educational prison," I picked up her thought, "what chance are you ever going to get to develop any other prospects?"
"Right." Laura nodded again.
"I see what you mean," I admitted.
"So what do you suggest, now that you see what I mean?" she wanted to know.
"I suggest you had a brilliant idea," I de- clared. "I couldn't have thought of a more perfect candidate, as you called him. Uncle Malcolm fills the requirements perfectly."
"I'm so glad you approve," Laura simpered coyly, hamming it up.
"I said the size of his equipment is near perfect," I reminded, "but it's still somewhat larger than that number one dildo. More like number three, I'd say."
"So I'm going to have to get down to some serious training," Laura shot right back. "I'll be ready. It's a week and a half before Uncle Malcolm plans to take us out of stir again. Now let's plan a training schedule that'll get us into top form before time for that exciting weekend with sweet Uncle Malcolm."
I said, "First thing on that schedule had better be to get our hands on some reserve batteries for our dildos. All the rest of our schedule would be shot all to hell if we turned up with dead batteries in the middle of our training. Get the picture?"
"Roger!" Laura exclaimed. "First order of business, fresh batteries in reserve at all times."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
If we needed any further proof of how completely Uncle Malcolm's charm had captivated our old superintendent, we got it when she had each of us called out of our last class that Friday afternoon. When Laura and I got to her office, she greeted us with eyes that were as bright with excitement as if she was the one who was looking forward to spending the weekend with Uncle Malcolm.
"Your uncle just spoke to me on the phone," she told Laura, obviously having to make an effort to subdue her feelings of inner excitement. "In as much as I'd approved his request that you be allowed to be overnight guests in his home Saturday night, he asked if you might be allowed to spend tonight there too. I agreed. So he'll be here to pick you up at five and take you to dinner. I promised him I'd see that you were ready by then. I'm depending on you, therefore, not to embarrass me, young ladies. Understand?"
We assured her we understood perfectly, then we hurried to our room in the dorm to get ready. Uncle Malcolm had told us earlier not to worry about bringing clothes because he would see that we were provided with suitable clothing of every kind we would be needing. So we dressed suitably for a dinner date and threw a few spare pairs of panties into the suitcase portion of our dildo cases. We didn't dare leave them in our room while we were gone that long, anyhow; some snoop might stumble onto the secret catch that opened the false bottom. The startling assortment that would be revealed once that happened would create a scandal that would not only rock the whole school but get both of us booted. So we used them as overnight bags, loading in personal items other than the panties, such as makeup and hair equipment, toothbrushes, and the like.
We were waiting at the gate when Uncle Malcolm's gleaming Rolls glided into sight promptly at five. His chauffeur put our two bags in the luggage compartment, then helped us in while Uncle Malcolm devoted himself to further charming our old chief warden. Before he gallantly bowed over her hand, kissed it, then turned to join us in the car, she was so enthralled or hypnotized I'm sure she would without hesitation have delivered every girl in that school into his hand if he had asked her to.
We all three sat very stiff and proper while the Rolls glided back down the street the way it had come, while our old super stood sedately waving after us until the grand car rolled out of her sight. Only then did Uncle Malcolm give us each a sly smile and lay a sensual hand on each of our nearest knees.
He said quietly, "My dear little nieces, you're both looking even more delectable than I remembered. And these past two weeks, I've been doing an unusual amount of remembering."
We both smiled a little nervously, bobbed our heads, and said, "Thank you."
He said, "Something came up that I had a hunch you both might enjoy."
On either side of him, we both snuggled closer. Laura whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Please tell us what it is?"
"You've both heard stories about wild Hollywood parties?" he suggested.
We both nodded. I felt a special kind of tingling excitement begin vibrating rapidly deep within me.
"Did the stories you've heard sound... exciting?" he asked.
"Wickedly!" Laura exclaimed.
I said, "Deliciously, scandalously, breath-takingly!"
"Good!" he declared with obvious satisfaction. "I felt sure I could count on you two darlings to feel that way. The final question I don't need to ask, but I'm going to... Would you enjoy being a guest at such a bash? Making love with some really big movie stars, perhaps, and no perhaps at all about watching a lot of other beautiful and famous people screwing and just letting it all hang out however the spirit strikes them."
"If it wasn't so square," Laura said, "I think I'd faint."
Uncle Malcolm chuckled and told her, "If you're going to faint at all, do it now. Once we get to that party, regardless of what you may see, fainting's out."
"What will we have to--" I began, then changed it to, "What will be expected of us?"
"Not a thing, except to enjoy yourselves," he assured me.
I couldn't believe it. "But what if some famous movie star should come up to one of us and demand--"
"One of us should be so lucky!" Laura interrupted.
"But what if it was something we just didn't want to do, even if he was a living god? Or what if up close we discovered there was something about him we just didn't dig, so we just didn't want to do anything at all with him, like even just basic, standard sex?"
Uncle Malcolm declared, "Anything you don't think you'll enjoy, or anyone you don't dig, you simply say no to. And as for anyone trying to demand anything, it simply won't happen. But if it did, you tell the demanding son-of-a-bitch firmly and flatly to get lost, go to hell, or whatever. You see, sweeties, a basic tenet of the so-called sexual revolution is sexual equality. Now, where there is equality, no one has any right to demand anything. Right?
Except to demand their rights of equality be respected. So if anyone attempts to make any demand upon you, you meet it head on with a demand that your equality be respected. Dig?"
"Dig!" Laura and I chorused.
Uncle Malcolm chuckled and ran a hand up each of our legs, starting hot tingles up my spine as his sensual fingertips neared my cunt. "Always remember," he murmured, "you owe it to yourself to never let anyone do anything to you that may later cause you to like yourself less. Always respect yourself and your rights enough to demand that others respect you and your rights too."
He brought his caressing fingertips forward again to our knees on either side of his, then sent them stroking back up our legs under our dresses again and on up to our cunts as he said, "For example, if you aren't enjoying what I'm doing right now, tell me so flatly and tell me to stop it."
I, for one, told him how I felt about it by clamping my thighs together, trying to imprison his sensational hand right where it was. He got the message loud and clear and chuckled, sounding pleased and happy.
The estate where the celebrity orgy was being given was high in the Hollywood hills. I'd seen such luxurious places, like everyone else has, in the movies. That was my very first actual visit to such a place, however. But I tried not to let how thrilled I was show because Uncle Malcolm acted so completely casual, like the magnificent place was just another ordinary house. But, inside, that big house was really out of this world, and I don't mean the floor plan or furnishings, although they were pretty great. What was out of sight because so much of it was hanging out in plain sight for all to see was the array of bare skin. I've never even had wet dreams about seeing so many naked people. Especially such beautiful naked people, all gathered together under one roof.
Our host and hostess met us just inside the front door dressed in absolutely nothing but their very attractive birthday suits. We'd driven past two security guards at the gate and past a bunch of chauffeurs in a crap game at the guest parking area, so I guess our lord and lady of the manor weren't worried about being surprised by uninvited guests. Uncle Malcolm had pointed out the battery of monitors from closed circuit TV cameras scattered in strategic places around the grounds' outer boundaries which enabled the two guards to keep a close watch on a lot more than just gate traffic.
Anyhow, our host and hostess were just as utterly relaxed and gracious as if they'd been decked out in the very latest styles. Of course, maybe they were, come to think of it. Uncle Malcolm introduced us after they'd both greeted him in a way that made it obvious he was an old friend. For example, when our beautiful hostess kissed him hello, it was a very long and lingering kiss and it was obvious that she was tongue-kissing him. Then Uncle Malcolm introduced Laura and me and I almost melted right there, the way our dreamy host greeted us. Just his kiss had me nearly ready to come in my panties. I was breathless and feeling weak-kneed when his welcome was over.
Only a few short months before I'd felt being held in Tom McKenna's young arms was the very greatest thrill I'd ever enjoy. Now here I was in the arms of one of the most handsome and sexy movie stars in the world, and him totally bare-assed naked at that. I was having a hard time convincing myself I wasn't just dreaming. One glance at Laura was all I needed to tell me she was experiencing exactly the same kind of fabulous feelings.
Then our host said "Won't the three of you hurry out of your clothing and join the party?" He glanced straight at me again as he added, "The more uninhibited ladies are treating us to a strip tease as they undress. But the less exhi-bitionistic are welcome to use bedroom, bathroom, hallway, closet, whatever takes their individual fancy. Or if you'll feel more comfortable, or think you will, in your clothing for a while, do feel free to be comfortable."
"But around a bare-assed mob like this," our lovely hostess chimed in, "you'll quickly discover you feel much less conspicuous and far " more comfortable without your clothing than you do in it, exactly the way you would at a nudist camp."
Uncle Malcolm chuckled and said quietly, "Let me assure you, dear friends, these little sex kittens of mine do come over refreshingly wholesome and virginal, but that's simply because they seem able to accept sex as something natural and wholesome. I assure you, they are totally uninhibited by anything except their awe of famous people."
Our beautiful host chuckled then, declaring, "They'll get over that long before this evening ends. And I'm looking forward to doing all I can personally to help convince each of you that movie stars are only people who don't fuck a bit differently and probably not a bit better than others."
"Despite all the extra practice most of us get," his lovely wife chimed in, also chuckling.
I turned my back to him, asking, "Would you unzip me, please? I'd prefer my strip to just be a private audition, if that's all right?"
"Perfectly," our host chuckled again, his strong, sure fingers quickly opening the zipper in the back of my dress, "but later you may think you wasted it by being so exclusive. You may be amazed to see how many of your other screen heroes are here."
"I'll risk it," I told him, and slipped out of my dress. I wasn't wearing a bra, so that left me naked to the top of my sheer panties. Our host's eyes widened slightly, appreciatively, as they drank in the sight of my full breasts standing out saucily and proudly from my chest. I couldn't have asked a greater reward for my inspired daring.
His wife reached out for my dress, smiling, with no trace of jealousy although completely aware of how his eyes were devouring me, and suggested, "Let me hang it in the closet, dear, so it won't get wrinkled or soiled."
I hooked a thumb in the top of my panties and pulled them downward slowly, then stepped out of them and handed them out for our hostess to take too. But our host caught them quickly from my hand. He raised them like they might have been a lace handkerchief, bringing the crotch to his nose. He drew a long, inward sniff, then murmured, "Exquisite perfume, and so perfectly personal. May I have these for a very exclusive collection of mementos which I highly prize? And I'll think again of you, only, each time I raise them to my nose and inhale the fragrant scent that is yours only."
Lord, talk about nearly swooning! My excited cunt was almost dripping with more of the personal fragrance he was taking on about. Right then I'd have liked nothing better than having a chance to thoroughly anoint his cock with that exquisite perfume of mine. I would especially have liked making that beautiful cock of his a lot less nonchalant than it looked as it hung from his belly almost limply, certainly a long ways from being flamingly, fully excited.
But just then the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of other guests. I had no opportunity to do anything just then about making his cock show a lot more excitement about its prospects for that evening. But I had a tingling hunch that I'd get my chance later.
Uncle Malcolm and Laura and I moved out of the foyer and into a long hallway as our host and hostess answered their door. I helped Uncle Malcolm shed his clothes while Laura slipped out of hers. He gave me an affectionate slap on my bare ass, then briefly caressed my breasts with those great hands of his while I hung his clothes in a closet. While he was fondling my boobs, he kissed me on one ear and murmured, "You already have our good host wrapped around your pinkie, you know, you little minx. I knew you would; you're exactly the type he goes ape over, but I really didn't expect you'd be able to captivate him so quickly. You're really fabulous."
I pushed my ass back against the front of him, felt his cock begin to rise and harden, pressing into the crack of my ass. I told him, "You're the one who's really fabulous."
He gave me a little hump, pressing his expanding cock into the crack of my ass even harder as he chuckled, declaring, "Like our good host said, just wait until you see some of the other men you're going to meet here... You may find your eyes being opened to how unfabu-lous I really am."
I turned myself to face him quickly and said sharply, "Stop it! Don't ever put yourself down to me, you hear? Sex isn't a competitive sport. You don't have to try to compete with anyone else. That's impossible because there's no other man anywhere like you. You're you. You're unique. Very special. Fabulous."
He chuckled, brought me into his arms, kissed me, his now fully excited cock pressed between our bare bellies.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The three of us strolled into the huge living room, Laura on one of Uncle Malcolm's arms and I on the other. So much was going on it was impossible to take even a fraction of it in at one time. Naked people were everywhere. A few couples were actually dancing to sweet, soft, old-fashioned tits-to-chest, cock-to-cunt kind of music. As they danced they had to weave their way in and out around other couples, in about every imaginable kind of fucking position on the floor. Some were merely dwalding at it, others were humping but rather unhurriedly and casual as they looked into each other's eyes, some even talking, perhaps getting acquainted. A few others scattered around the room fucked frantically, eyes tightly closed, faces twisted in grimaces, obviously very near to or in actual orgasm. No one else was paying any of them much attention. But the whole wild scene seemed as erotic as hell to me.
Then Malcolm nudged me, directing my attention to a threesome directly in front of us. A beautiful big hunk of man I recognized instantly once I looked directly at him, was stretched out on his back upon a couch there having his magnificent cock sucked. Another girl was on ker knees beside the one licking and sucking at his lollypop. She seemed to be giving directions, as if she were teaching her companion something she hadn't known about the art. As we watched, she took over. Her hand replaced the other girl's, steadying the movie star's cock as she gave it a long lick from ball's to tip. Then she sent her tongue tip flicking up and down a short area of the underside just below the tip.
After a moment she stopped and said something quickly to the watching girl, then moved back to let her take over again. The other girl gave the rigid cock a long lick from balls to tip, exactly like her teacher had demonstrated. Then she repeated the short, flicking strokes with her tongue tip against that same area just below the tip. The movie star they were practicing on began making little thrusting movements with his hips, obviously beginning to feel a real charge of sensation.
Uncle Malcolm bent his head to mine and whispered, "You'd ought take over there and demonstrate your trick of finger-fucking his asshole while you give his prick the business with your mouth. You'd have yourself another famous fan in just about the time it took you to make him come."
I murmured, "I might get my hair pulled out, too. Those two others very likely wouldn't appreciate my butting in."
He teased, "Around Hollywood you can't get ahead if you let yourself worry about things like that. If you see an opening, you barge in and begin showing what you can do. If you do it better than it's been done and that puts someone else out of their job to make room for you, that's their worry, not yours. That's an old Hollywood custom."
I gave him a playful bump with my hip, then rubbed my leg lingeringly along his as I told him, "My philosophy of life is a flowering tree that grows out of the rich soil of a world of abundance, not scarcity. I believe there's more than plenty in this world for everyone, so I never have to grab anything that belongs to someone else. If I only look around a little, I'll find something even better that no one else has a claim on, something or someone I can claim and keep as all my own. Or share with someone else I love, if there's too much for me alone. I don't think I ever have to be greedy, because I believe there's always more than plenty."
Uncle Malcolm chuckled rather dryly, "If you're talking about the supply of attractive men always available, eager, and ready to make love to you, more than likely you're right; there'll always be more than plenty. But I'm afraid you'll find the supply of some other things in this life isn't quite so abundant."
I suggested, "Maybe that's only because so many still let a belief in scarcity make them greedy? I think if more people really let themselves believe in unlimited abundance, they'd begin experiencing more and more unlimited abundance."
Uncle Malcolm shook his head, for just an instant looking a tiny bit wistful. "I wish I could believe you're right."
I told him, "Our sexual revolution is proving I'm right. Husbands are learning they don't have to own their wife like an exclusive possession in order to assure themselves of a constant supply of sex. Instead, they're learning that by giving their wife the same freedom they want for themselves, they can multiply not only their constant supply of sex but the variety of sex partners constantly available to them. They've simply changed gears in their heads, substituted a greed-causing philosophy of scarcity with a philosophy of sexual abundance that creates freedom and generosity, a willingness to enjoy all they can and to share all the rest. Just think what might happen if they'd make such a change in their thinking about other areas of their lives."
Uncle Malcolm shook his head, declaring, "Sometimes you kids scare me." He gave me a sudden mock frown, demanding, "You sure you're not a commie agent?"
We began chuckling together. On the other side of Uncle Malcolm, Laura broke her silence, declaring, "I'll tell you what she is. She's an idealistic but sometimes idiotic Wyo- ming hick who thinks no human is really mean, merely sometimes misguided. But philosophizing about it in the very middle of a sex orgy is ridiculous. Let's stop sightseeing and get involved!"
"Go ahead," I told her lightly. "Rush in headlong and get involved before you have any idea who or what you're involved with. But there's really no need for hurry. We're in the midst of Abundance. There'll be more than enough and we have all night to enjoy it."
Just then a hand closed on my free arm. I glanced around. I'd caught the sudden expression that flashed across Laura's face and through her eyes just the instant before I felt the hand close on my arm. Laura's reaction prepared me so that I managed to keep my cool rather than being so surprised I flipped out at sight of young godlike owner of that hand. He was merely one of the most exciting new male stars in the whole film world, a perfect blend of serious mind and godlike body.
He smiled at Uncle Malcolm as he said, "Malcolm, old friend, are you being greedy, trying to monopolize both these sweet lovelies, or are you actually looking for an available friend, ready and willing to offer a hand?"
I glanced down, without even thinking about it, at his cock. Instantly surprise went tingling through me, mingled with a sudden, strange excitement, but also with an unsure feeling of some alarm; this newcomer's cock hung at about half-mast, not limp and not rigid, but even though not fully excited, it was more than twice as long as well as twice as big around as the biggest cock I'd ever had inside me. Talk about abundance! I wasn't sure I wasn't looking at more of it right then than I could do anything with.
I looked up and found him watching me closely. As if reading my mind, he murmured, "I'm very patient and very gentle and I always respect my partner's right to say no. Malcolm will vouch for me. I'm no brute."- I glanced uncertainly at Uncle Malcolm. He nodded. "I'll vouch for Chuck; you can safely trust him."
Just then the popular male star of a TV show closed in on Laura on Uncle Malcolm's other side. When she saw who he was, she got so excited she seemed to forget all about Uncle Malcolm or anyone else. Almost quicker than I can tell about it, Laura and her new admirer were locked in a passionate get-acquainted kiss while his hands moved over her body caressingly. I kept my hold on Uncle Malcolm's arm. Suddenly I had an inspiration and instantly announced, "I think I just might be woman enough to give both you beautiful men a time to remember, like even the same time."
"Terrific!" Chuck exclaimed, then gestured to the soft carpet underfoot, inviting, "Let's all lay down and talk this over. Okay, Malcolm?"
"Sensational!" Uncle Malcolm agreed.
But I protested, "Can't we go to a bedroom or somewhere with a little more privacy?"
"The bedrooms are the most crowded places in this pad," Chuck declared. "There's oodles of room here and everyone else is too busy doing their own thing to spend any time watching us. Who needs more privacy than that?" He moved his hand from my arm to my nearest tit, cradled it in that hand, then bent his head and sucked the rock-hard nipple into his mouth. I nearly flipped out! Juices began gushing from away up deep inside my suddenly burning cunt right on out to the outside lips of it. My mind might have had reservations, but my body didn't seem to have gotten the message at all; it was fired up and ready.
Chuck's other hand closed around my other tit. Then that hypnotizing mouth of his switched to that other nipple! My knees went weak. I began to sag toward the floor, feeling suddenly powerless to resist.
Then my new movie-star lover switched those lips and that tongue from my tits to my belly. He began kissing and licking his way downward. Sensation came surging up through my body until I felt like I was going to choke. I seemed hardly able to get my breath. That mouth of his suddenly wasn't on my belly any longer; it was licking moistly into the creases between my lower body and my inner thighs, right there a scant gasp away from my aching cunt. My legs seemed to be turning to water.
Then his tongue was thrusting into my ravenous cunt; I let go a gasping scream and my legs folded. But Chuck's strong, sure hands were on my trembling body, guiding me downward. Next thing I realized, I was on my knees astride him and he was on his back under me. Both his hands were pressed against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together; both my tingling nipples were in his hot mouth. I felt nearly ready to come, I was so filled with sensation and excitement. I felt something nudging my empty cunt and a feeling of overwhelming hunger went through it. I reached down between our bellies with one groping hand.
The shocked surprise that roared through me almost turned me off, his rigid cock felt so much bigger than any I'd ever felt before when my searching hand found it. It was a long ways from being as big as the horse-cock in our assorted set of dildos, but it still felt frightfully long and massive. Gingerly I began stroking the huge head of it back and forth through my juicy, steaming crack, covering it with a thick coating of lubrication. That quickly began feeling so good I found myself forgetting my fear of how big it seemed to me. I found myself feeling hungry for it, greedy for the sensation of feeling it sliding into me. It became so over powering I forgot the fear of it I'd felt only moments before.
I aimed it into my burning cunt and began bobbing my ass up and down in a rapid series of shallow strokes. I felt the lips of my cunt stretching as they'd never before been stretched as that great, swollen head shoved into them briefly, time after time. But it felt good, I discovered. As my confidence grew, I began thrusting against my actor lover's big cock harder, sending it deeper. Then a thrill went shooting through me; I felt the strain on the stretching lips of my cunt ease abruptly; I realized they'd closed behind the widely flaring rim, that the whole big head of his cock was inside me, yet there'd been no pain whatever. Actually my cunt had a good new feeling of being completely filled. Filled as it never before had been filled. Deliciously filled. Totally filled. Satisfyingly filled. Filled to its total capacity.
I eased down cautiously, sending that great swollen head of Chuck's cock sliding deeper into me, taking that new sensation of being totally filled deeper and ever deeper into my tunnel of love. I felt stretched as I'd never dreamed I could stand being stretched. It felt delicious, but it also felt as if one tiny bit more such stretching would create not mere discomfort but protesting pain. Then I found myself suddenly wondering if I was being ruined for male cocks that were any smaller? Like Uncle Malcolm's? Or Tom's? And that thought frightened me. I very nearly jerked Chuck's huge cock out of my cunt and went scrambling away from him. I knew if I hadn't been caught up in the super excitement of the orgy, of all the gasping and moaning and fucking going on all around me and the intense stimulation of actually watching the passionate struggles of all those other people, I never would have considered attempting to take such a cock into myself. I'd read about other people who in orgy situations discovered themselves doing things without a second thought that ordinarily they might have found repulsive. Now I knew how frighteningly true it was.
All that flashed through my mind in a split second; in a fraction of the time it's taken to tell about it. I raised myself away from that handsome young actor on the floor under me, intending to end my coupling with him and his huge cock before my cunt was permanently damaged, permanently stretched too badly to ever give satisfaction to a smaller cock. I'd been looking forward to being fucked by Uncle Malcolm. And I'd anticipated going back home again at the end of the semester, having exciting times with Tom when he'd fuck me again and again for hours on end like he'd done those glorious nights we'd had together before my exile to California.
But as Chuck's great cock came sliding back out of me, the rim of its big, flaring head bringing a wave of added sensation rippling along with it through the tissues of my vaginal tube, my determination to end that coupling began to weaken rapidly. I don't actually believe it felt any better, really, than Tom's much smaller cock had felt in me, but it did feel different. Something about the way it stretched my cunt so close to the point of hurting, about the feeling that it filled my straining cunt totally and completely, seemed intensely exciting and different. That difference seemed so good VI felt more and more reluctant to end it with the abruptness I'd intended.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I felt the inner lips of my deliciously stretched cunt straining even more, opening more to let that flared rim on the huge head of Chuck's cock out. The feeling of strain was so intense it was right on the border of pain. If it had hurt, I'd have had no problem; I'd have jerked my punished cunt free of its tormentor. But it didn't quite hurt. Instead of actual pain, the intense pressure seemed to create an excruciating kind of pleasure. It's amazing how fine the borderline between pain and pleasure can sometimes be. It's just as amazing how feeble one's will power can sometimes become in a contest with sensations of intense pleasure. All I had to do was to raise my hips just a fraction higher and Chuck's huge cock would come sliding entirely out of me, freeing my cunt of the terrific stresses it created.
But those terrific stresses were feeling increasingly delicious. Almost without any conscious decision about it, I let my hips begin sinking again, driving Chuck's great cock back into my depths. The sensations it created in my totally occupied cunt were becoming intensely pleasurable. They washed away all thought of possible jeopardy to later pleasures with Uncle Malcolm and Tom. I found myself sinking into, being overwhelmed by, swelling waves of the pleasure of the moment. Pleasure I could find no will to resist. That time I did not check the inward plunge of Chuck's great cock. When it had penetrated me to the deepest point Tom's cock ever had reached, at least half of Chuck's great rigid shaft still remained unswallowed. Now not only my cunt but my entire lower belly began to feel strangely stretched, completely filled.
That exploring, swollen head of Chuck's cock began touching things deep within me I had never felt touched before, then pushed on past to touch still other untouched inner organs and surfaces. It seemed to go on for so long, I felt surprise, felt almost startled, when finally I felt the outer lips of my cunt come to rest against the roots of that great shaft, felt our lower bellies pressing firmly together.
I found myself feeling breathless. A breath-lessness created by pressure caused by lack of inner space, rather than by sexual excitement. It was an entirely new experience. But again that breath-restricting inner pressure seemed to stop just short of that degree of intensity that would have created real discomfort. Instead I suddenly found a feeling of strange exhilaration flashing through me, as if I'd just successfully performed some feat of special accomplishment.
I relaxed a little, only then realizing how tense I'd been. A heady kind of relief washed through me. I'd totally contained that impressive cock of Chuck's. I was its master. Now I could subdue it, could transform its massive male strength into wilting limpness. I had to suppress a giggle of delight. I raised myself, drawing Chuck's great shaft outward slowly. I tried to give the head of it a loving twinge with my inner muscles, which Tom had said felt so delicious to him. But everything inside me was so totally stretched my muscles seemed to have no snap left with which to give abrupt added squeezes like they'd been able to deliver to the head of Tom's penis. Being able to do that to Tom had given me delicious sensations, too, which I discovered were not possible for me to experience with this monstrous cock of Chuck's inside me. Its great size seemed to create some definite limitations on the quality of pleasure it could create. I realized there were definite ways in which a smaller cock felt much better, that there seemed to be a far greater variety of delicious sensations a smaller cock could create within me. The most distinctive sensation Chuck's great rod seemed able to deliver was that feeling of being filled to total capacity, which felt good in its way but lacked any quality of tantalizing delicacy and variety. Its size created definite limitations.
I eased Chuck's big cock almost all the way out of me, then sent it sliding back in to its hilt about half a dozen times, moving a little less gingerly all the time. Then I glanced around, again remembering Uncle Malcolm. I found him sitting on his heels, patiently waiting, watching us. I flashed him a quick grin, exclaiming, "How about that?... I made it! I've taken everything this Chuck character has and made it vanish. Talk about working magic! Making anything the size of his cock vanish is quite a trick."
Uncle Malcolm chuckled, murmuring, "Yes, the female pussy is marvelously versatile. Miraculously adaptable. Most women never realize what a unique treasure they own."
"I'm learning!" I declared emphatically. Then I suggested, "Don't you think it's about time we got you into this act?"
He chuckled again. "Do you feel like you have any room left for anything else inside you?"
"Let's find out," I invited. "Until I tried it, I didn't think I had enough room in there for what's in there right now. So I'll gamble on having room left for more. Come on."
Uncle Malcolm started to move over into position behind me, then paused abruptly, frowning as he said, "I forgot we'd be needing something for lubrication."
"No sweat," I told him. "I've got a whole honey pot full of the slipperiest lubricant known to man." I raised myself away from Chuck, letting his big cock slip out of my cunt. It slapped down against his belly wetly. He kept right on gobbling away at my tits as if he didn't notice.
I wiggled my ass at Uncle Malcolm, inviting, "Come on in; the lubrication's fine."
He straddled Chuck's legs and moved in close behind me. His hands closed upon my hips, then his rigid cock went sliding into my cunt, dog-fashion. I was amazed the way the muscles of my cunt were able to close down around his hardness, gripping it lovingly, lusciously, fitting my cunt to him perfectly, like a tailor made glove. After the stretching they'd just taken from Chuck's cock, such instant adaptability seemed impossible. But I was feeling it happen.
Uncle Malcolm stroked in and out of me only about three times, then started to withdraw. I clamped down hard around his cock with my cunt muscles, trying to trap it before it slipped clear out. But just in case that failed, I made a grab with one hand and caught him by one cheek of his ass, stopping its retreat. I said, "Don't stop so soon! You're making it feel delicious, after the terrific stretching I've just been getting. Go on making it feel good for a little while. Please?"
On the floor under me, Chuck abruptly pulled his greedy mouth away from my tits, exclaiming, "I heard that! If you want to call this party off--"
"Shut up!" I cut in with pretended anger. "Get back to the job." I moved my shoulders, making my tits swing back and forth across his mouth, and added, "Just stop eavesdropping on other people's private conversations and you won't be getting your feelings hurt unnecessarily."
"Aye, aye, Captain Bligh!" Chuck exclaimed with a grin, then went back to gobbling at my tits. His greedy mouth on my burning tits and Uncle Malcolm's delicious hardness in my tingling cunt felt heavenly.
As Uncle Malcolm shoved his cock to me, I wiggled my ass against him to tell him how good it was feeling. I glanced back at him again and murmured, "I'm still looking forward to spending a long time alone with you sometime. Lordy, but you make it feel great!"
The reaction that got made me feel proud of myself for having said it; Uncle Malcolm couldn't possibly have looked happier if he'd just been presented an Oscar. He murmured, "I'm looking forward to that too, you sweet thing. But right now I think maybe--" I interrupted, declaring, "Right now I'll put old horse-cock back in the playhouse and you dig around in my backyard for me. Okay?"
I felt Uncle Malcolm's good hardness slip out of me. I found Chuck's huge cock with one hand, aimed it, then felt everything in my cunt again starting to be stretched almost painfully as the great head of it went back into me. Once it was all the way inside me again, I made two or three more very short strokes to get it settled into the most comfortable position possible. Then I glanced back at Uncle Malcolm, inviting, "Ready."
Uncle Malcolm's grip on my hips tightened. I felt the head of his cock begin pressing into my asshole. I tried to relax the muscles the way I'd learned to do with Tom. I felt his hardness starting into me. My ass felt far tighter than I remembered it having felt, even the very first time Tom shoved his cock into me there. The borderline between pain and pleasure almost got crossed. I felt certain something was going to tear, every tissue throught my whole ass seemed to be stretched too tautly. I was about to yell, certain it had to start really hurting, like the very next instant.
But before I got the yell started, I realized suddenly that Uncle Malcolm was all the way in me. I still hadn't been stretched quite far enough to create actual pain. But my whole ass was filled with a feeling of intense pressure. It seemed impossible that anything could ever start feeling good to me in this kind of situation. I felt certain I'd bargained for more male cock than I could pleasurably handle. Just getting Chuck's whopper into my cunt had seemed like a real accomplishment. I told myself I should have stopped while I'd been ahead. Now I felt certain I was going to have to ask for mercy, going to have to ask to be let out of the bargain I'd made. I was ready to yell "Uncle!" but just before I did Uncle Malcolm began stroking his cock gently in and out of my taut asshole. I hung on, hating to disappoint him.
I was surprised to feel the sensation of unbearable pressure begin to ease. It felt like there was only a paper-thin tissue between Uncle Malcolm's thrusting cock and Chuck's huge hardness buried in my stretched cunt. But that thin tissue seemed to be filled with sources of erotic sensation being stimulated fantastically by the caressing strokes of Uncle Malcolm's cock.
I found myself able to start forgetting the feeling of strained tissues and pressure; I began to relax more than I'd been able to, beginning to enjoy the rising tide of sensation. Suddenly I realized the pressure from being so filled to capacity with hard male cocks seemed to be strangely intensifying the sensations within me. I seemed to be feeling them more sharply.
I found myself responding without thinking, beginning to raise and lower myself in short movements that created short thrusts of Chuck's big cock deep within me. The increased friction of slight movement against both sides of the tissue separating his cock from Uncle Malcolm's created a startling magnification of sensation. I gasped with the sudden pleasure of it. I grew braver, beginning to increase my movements and thus make the strokes of Chuck's cock in and out of my cunt longer. Meanwhile, Uncle Malcolm was beginning to shove his cock to my asshole a little less cautiously. That also seemed to multiply the sensation being created within my cock-filled belly.
Slowly my sense of a need for caution faded as sensation swelled higher within me. Finally I was able to just close my eyes and give myself over to the delicious storm of sensation that had started raging within me. I was ready to abandon myself to the total enjoyment of it. At that very instant of abandonment, however, I became abruptly aware of a gripping hand shaking one shoulder. I frowned irritably at this uninvited interruption as I opened my eyes and glanced up at the owner of that hand. I was ready to snap at whoever it was. Then I saw our handsome and famous host standing there smiling down at me. Almost the same instant I recognized his face, I realized that his beautiful cock was no longer hanging nonchalantly limp.
"You give a remarkable performance, little dreamboat," he declared, sounding excited. "This is about the best two-man show I've ever witnessed. Would you care to make it into a super-spectacular three-man extravaganza?" He made a slight movement with his hips, bringing his rigid cock toward my mouth suggestively, then waited hopefully. I appreciated his consideration in not trying to demand anything or worse yet to physically force his cock upon me. Right then I couldn't have done much to defend myself, my ass anchored to two other hard cocks the way it was.
I shrugged my shoulders and told him, "I've never been involved in a two-way screwing before, much less three. So I can't guarantee satisfaction, but I'm willing to try, if you find the idea appealing."
"Do I ever find it appealing!" he exclaimed as he moved quickly to position himself directly in front of me, presenting my mouth with the easiest access possible to his cock. I raised one of my hands from the floor beside Chuck's head. I gripped our host's eager cock. It was a real beauty, as I've said before, about halfway between Uncle Malcolm's and Chuck's in size. The thought flashed through that I was going to have as big a variety of different-sized cocks in me as an assorted case of dildos usually holds. I began getting it lubricated with a dripping coat of saliva, licking from the base of his cock to its tip time after time. I had him moaning before I finished that.
Meanwhile I was continuing the action with my ass, stroking Chuck's huge cock in and out of my straining cunt while Uncle Malcolm kept sliding his stiff cock in and out of my asshole. It was almost like a juggling act, trying to keep the pressure of sensation building in all three of them at the same time. I licked my lips, then slipped our handsome host's cock through them and into my mouth. I welcomed it with a silken swirl, my tongue licking at the sensitive head of it with a circular motion. His legs began trembling almost immediately. I knew within just moments that he would come.
I pressed my mouth toward his lower belly, beginning a rapid sucking action with my lips and cheeks. His hard cock slipped deeper and still deeper into my mouth until my lips were pressed firmly against the mat of curly black hair that covered the roots of his rigid cock. Then I gave the head of his cock, now well down in my throat, a squeezing caress, suddenly con- tracting the throat muscles around it. I heard the owner of that cock gasp, sharply as if in surprise. I wondered if I possibly could have shown this man, as widely experienced as a lover as he had to be, a new trick. The possibility pleased me. I gave him another harder squeeze and another and another, beginning a steady milking action on that sensitive head of his beautiful cock. I had gasps wheezing in and out of him steadily and noisily. He would give up his whole charge to me any moment now.
I remembered my other trick, realizing I had a free hand now. I quickly stuck the forefinger into my mouth beside the hard shaft of his cock, coating it with saliva for lubrication. Then I reached between his legs and felt my way under his balls and on until I found his asshole. I started my finger into him; that brought a startled gasp out of him, then almost instantly the muscles around his asshole relaxed as if to welcome my entering finger. He had experienced that wrinkle before, obviously, so he must not have been too surprised when I used it on him. As my finger thrust into him, an anguished cry abruptly tore its way out of him; his rigid cock began pulsating powerfully, sending jet after jet of his hot come shooting down my throat.
That same instant, Chuck began bucking under me, his hips and back arching upward against me off the floor. As his great cock began erupting, it filled me so completely its pulsations seemed to be thundering through my whole lower belly.
Then Uncle Malcolm's fingers were clutching at my hips so frantically they became almost like claws. I heard a strangled yell come out of him, then felt his cock begin pulsating furiously in my asshole's tightness.
It was as exciting as hell. The orgy going on all around me was frantically erotic. Yet the whole wild scene had failed to create the tingling excitement that had me coming like a machine gun that first night Tom spent in my bed fucking me. Here I had those three Hollywood big names coming deep inside me all at the same time, yet of the four of us I alone still wasn't coming. That really seemed fantastic.
Then out of nowhere the thought zipped through of what my old shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later daddy would do if he could see me right then. I knew he'd never stop at just killing the three with their cocks buried in me; he'd have more than likely wound up killing off at least half of Hollywood.
And that's what did it. That brought the feeling I'd been missing, exciting all hell right out of me. Don't ask me why, but that vision of my old daddy's blazing guns killing people right and left, like something out of an old Western movie on the late, late show, seemed like the most erotic experience I'd had all that evening. I blew my mind. I screamed. I think more than likely I sounded like someone going stark, raving fruitcake as that scream came gurgling and gasping out around the pumping cock still stuck clear down my throat. All I was really aware of, however, was that I was coming. Lordy, Lord, how I was coming and coming and still coming some more.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Uncle Malcolm's secluded beach house was the perfect place to recover from the excesses of an orgy. It seemed so good not to have wall-to-wall people. Wall-to-wall fucking. Wall-to-wall cunts and cocks and bare-assed skin. It had seemed terribly exciting, once. But as I lay on the warm sand of that secluded private beach, recuperating, strange thoughts floated lazily through my mind. I had the distinct feeling that I definitely would not dig orgies as a regular sexual diet. I found myself wondering if I might be more of an old-fashioned girl than I'd realized. The very idea made me chuckle.
From the sand nearby, where he was sunbathing nude, Uncle Malcolm murmured, "Tell me so I can laugh too."
Beyond him, Laura spoke up, sounding abnormally catty for Laura as she suggested, "She's probably gloating over the way she stole the whole scene from all those famous movie sex symbols with that three-man show she put on last night. A lot of them would've liked to've killed her, the way she had all the most attractive men swarming around after that performance. But her hard-to-get act after her curtain raiser... that really was the show stopper. My sweet little roommate from the country, the country innocent who out-vamps the professional vamps!"
I said sweetly, "And I owe it all to you, the friend who taught me everything I know!"
Laura sat up and stared across at me intently for a moment, then suddenly shook her head as she declared, "Will you listen to me, coming on like the jealous bitch!" She looked out at the ocean a moment, then glanced back at me again to say, "I'm sorry, Trina... I guess what really got the old green-eyed monster stirred up in me wasn't the way you had those movie heroes drooling over you at all. What really got to me was that I felt our dear Uncle Malcolm here has been acting partial to your charms over mine. That's been really burning me, regardless of how much I tell myself I shouldn't feel that way."
Uncle Malcolm spoke up quietly. "Then I'm the one who should be apologizing for having obviously failed to maintain a proper balance in my attentions. You know, that's the problem so few men ever have been wise enough to handle that society finally adopted laws that run completely contrary to man's inherently polygamous nature. It seems to require the wisdom of a real Solomon to enable a man to make two beautiful women... only two, much less more than two... feel equally appreciated, equally desirable, equally cherished. I'm sorry I haven't proven equal to that--"
"Words, words!" Laura interrupted, chuckling. "Let's see some action suited to those fine words, sweet Uncle. I'll show you how very understanding and forgiving I can be when I see a genuine effort to change your actions. You know, actions speak so much louder than words."
I said, "Hold onto your G-string folks! She's about to get profound again."
"Look who's talking!" Laura exclaimed. "She stands right in the middle of a sex orgy involving some of Hollywood's most beautiful people, and what does she babble about? Her philosophy of life."
"Which is a philosophy of overflowing abundance," I reminded instantly. "And that orgy was about the most vivid picture of abundance I'd ever seen. Abundance freely shared with everyone by everyone, abundance available to all and enjoyed by all."
"You just haven't been listening, little friend," Laura said sharply. "I've been protesting my failure to get my fair share of that alleged abundance."
"I didn't hear you making any protesting noises when a certain dreamy young TV actor joined us," I countered. "I didn't hear you protesting that he should give me equal attention, equal time, equal anything. You took the abundance he offered and--" Laura interrupted, exclaiming with a gusty sigh, "Yeah, he was really something! I'll still be having wet dreams about little old me making it to outer space on his sweet rocket when I'm old and gray. He was really something!"
"So who's protesting she didn't get her fair share of what?" I reminded.
Laura shrugged and turned coy, lowering her eyes as she murmured, "Yeah, but he isn't here, now. I'll still bet Uncle Malcolm is much greater. I'll bet there's no comparison, but I don't know that from personal experience... like you do. Of us two, you're the only one our sweet uncle ever has really made a trip to the stars with."
"Maybe that's been your fault," I suggested. "Was he supposed to chase after you when you went off to screw your TV hero? You can't really claim you were available but he showed a preference for me. Now can you?"
"Why rake over past history?" Laura demanded, taking a superior tone. "I am available now. That's all that's really important. Don't you agree, sweet Uncle?"
"Marvelous example of female logic!" Uncle Malcolm chuckled. "I predict you'll go far, my dear Laura. With your beauty and natural charms... such a great body and such a devious feminine mind, there's no limit on where you can go, on what you can ask life for and receive."
Then he glanced at me, murmuring, "Trina, darling, would you please excuse me for an hour or so? I've been neglecting my sweet niece, Laura, and I must do something to make it all up to her. You do understand?"
"Be my guest," I said sweetly. "I'll even be glad to help if there's anything at all--"
"Of course there's something you can do to help!" Laura cut in sharply. "Don't try to go running off and leave me to try to do something to this dreamy man all on my own that he'll always remember. You can help me like I helped that very first afternoon when he fucked Marie in the asshole. You bet you can help! I want Uncle Malcolm's very first time in me to be really extra special, so as my best friend you've got to help me do it!"
All this talk hadn't just been talk, talk, talk. It had been having an erotic effect; Uncle Malcolm's cock had changed from a state of limp disinterest to a half-mast state of rising excitement. And that excitement kept right on rising moment by moment, making his cock swell and lengthen toward full erection. For my part, my own box had started feeling like something inside it had started building up a fresh new fire. Talk, the right kind of talk, can be important as hell in beginning to build a new head of steam of erotic sensations. After all, the most important human sex organ always has been the human mind and the mental pictures that mind creates.
Yeah, that mind of ours actually is our whole sexual bag. There really aren't too many different things different people can do physically in seeking sexual satisfaction. The real sexual dif- ferences from one individual to another are almost all in the mind. One mind has been brainwashed to think all sex is dirty, something to be secretive about, to feel ashamed of and guilty about, so to that poor blind, brainwashed mental cripple all sex is dirty, something he or she always feels ashamed of and guilty about. Another individual can do the exact same sexual things physically, but that one's mind has been taught that the Creator of all life, including sex, is all good and all that He has created is good, therefore sex is good and natural and wholesome. Was intended to create a sense of vitality and physical well-being, of joy and happiness, when properly expressed in a physical union for mutual pleasure between consenting adults. Therefore to that individual sex always seems good and brings a sense of fulfillment and vitality and joy in being alive. The only difference between feelings of guilt about sex and feelings of joy in being alive is that difference in attitudes about sex in two different minds.
The mind being so vitally important to good sex for humans, the right kind of talk to stimulate that mind is equally important at the right times. Part of such talk is the so-called sweet nothings women have always found so necessary to create a mood of sexual responsiveness in them. Those sweet nothings create mental pictures that are erotic as all hell; not to men, but to women.
So the talk Laura and I had been doing very likely would have sounded like a mild cat fight, a rather light-hearted argument, to someone who didn't understand human sexuality. Actually it had been recalling mental pictures to all three of us that had been erotic as hell to each of us. We'd been using the talk to stir each other up, to rekindle our fires of sexual desire to the point where we'd feel receptive to a new campaign of physical caresses, as well as sufficiently stimulated to launch our own. Of course a time always comes when all further talk must be kept to a very minimum. At that point, body language takes over most of the flow of communications. We had about reached that point.
Uncle Malcolm turned on his side to face Laura as she too turned herself on her side to meet him. Gently he cupped a hand around her upper breast, then bent his head until he brought his mouth to the nipple. I heard a low moan of pleasure come out of Laura as he sucked that excited nipple into his mouth to begin licking and sucking at it.
But I had work to do elsewhere. I turned myself upon the beach blanket, putting my feet toward their heads and my face at Uncle Malcolm's ass. I began kissing and licking at the cheeks of it. He raised his upper leg, spreading it away from the other, inviting me to caress more private areas.
Without hesitation I took a long, wet lick up through the crack of his ass. As the tip of my tongue crossed his asshole, I saw his stiff cock jerk, then swell and become larger and harder. I licked on up to his balls, gently sucking them into my mouth, caressing them with careful strokes of my tongue. Little humping movements of his hips let me know he appreciated that special attention.
Just then Laura raised her upper leg and threw it over Uncle Malcolm's, opening her cunt wide in welcome to his cock. The curly muff of her cunt hair glistened with jewellike drops of the love sweat drooling out of her excited cunt. I could feel heat radiating from her feverish hot box against my face as Uncle Malcolm moved closer, taking me with him.
The swollen head of his cock touched the outer lips of Laura's cunt lighty. He made several short thrusts, checking each one before the head of his cock disappeared inside Laura's hungry cunt. She began thrusting against him in answer. I could tell she was dying to have him sock it to her, to have him sink his anchor to its hairy hilt. But he was taking it easy, not rushing her, as a wise lover does.
I knew how Laura felt, though. I knew she was achingly ready, even if he wasn't yet sure. I let his balls slip out of my mouth just as he started another inward stroke. I drew back a little, then sent the tip of my tongue straight at his asshole. The touch of it there made him jerk away involuntarily in surprise, sending his stiff cock lunging on into Laura's cunt to its roots. A wavering groan of satisfaction came out of her. I changed position a little to give Uncle Malcolm more freedom of movement now. As he began humping his cock in and out of Laura's cunt full stroke, I held my tongue straight out so the crack of his ass moved back and forth on it as he fucked her, giving him an added charge of sensation with each stroke.
Within moments both of them were moaning and groaning like they were suffering intensifying torture. Then I saw Laura's cunt begin pulsating around his cock as it went in and out of her and knew she was coming before her scream told me. I really had a grandstand view. Like hell! I had something far better, like a TV close-up view. I could clearly see her cunt stop its frantic pulsations for a second, then begin all over again as she blasted off into a fresh orgasm. It was about as erotic as anything I'd ever experienced. My own cunt got so excited it felt like the love honey was gushing out of it. Without even a conscious thought about what I was doing, I dropped my hand down to my ravenous cunt and began caressing my clitoris.
Lord, how thankful I was that I was a woman and didn't have to worry about "saving" my sexual charges, about trying to get the most mileage possible out of each one, like a man does if he's any kind of a lover. I could spend sexual energy as freely as I was offered opportunities, yet always have more at a moment's notice if I found myself presented with a new opportunity. Being a woman relieved me of all need to conserve my orgasms because I always had a new one ready and waiting. So masturbation was not a waste but an added bonus.
I closed my eyes as I caressed my clitoris. In a flash I was back at the orgy of the night before. My finger became a rigid cock. One second it belonged to our famous host. The next instant it hung from the belly of Laura's TV idol. An instant later it belonged to another handsome actor. It was fantastic. My head was swarming with such a swirl of erotic images I began blowing my mind. I forgot all about continuing to tease Uncle Malcolm. Even the vibrating dildos had never made me come the way I was coming all by myself there on that beach blanket, while Uncle Malcolm and Laura humped each other frantically and yelled and moaned and humped some more, merely inches away behind me. Those phantom lovers of mine were treating me to the most royal fucking any woman ever had.
When I finally finished, I came back from my trip to outer space, actually to inner space, and found Uncle Malcolm and Laura laying still coupled together as if forzen, watching me in amazement. When she saw I was back, Laura demanded almost angrily, "What in hell happened to you? We thought you were having some kind of sexual fit. Maybe even an epileptic seizure."
"If epileptic seizures were anything like what I just had," I told her, "everyone would be trying to find a way to get epilepsy, instead of a way to cure it. I was only having an adventure with a sexual phantom."
"Good Lord, what's his name?" Laura began. I want---" I cut her off, warning, "Don't start that again! You were wanting Uncle Malcolm and now you've got him, so enjoy him. Keep your atten- tion on him and on all he's giving you to be thankful for."
I got up and started walking toward the gentle surf. As I went, I called back to them, "I'll take a swim so I'm not around to distract you. I'll take my sexy phantoms with me."
As I walked on toward the water, my cunt was still tingling with the delights I'd just experienced. It still seemed impossible that such a hurricane of sensation could have all been in my head. But of course that's actually where such storms of passion always come from, even when you've had a partner to help start them raging. All in your head. All in inner space. What a trip!
I waded into the surf. I chuckled abruptly, wondering if that whole ocean held enough water to cool my burning cunt? The fire all those phantom cocks had set roaring within me gave promise of proving to be a pretty steady and enduring blaze. If hot pants were the new fashion headliners, I had a hunch I was going to wear the style in a way more women ought to. I'd found what it took to keep hot pants really hot. I knew the answer to my question; even that big ocean could never cool it. Because I'd unleashed the unquenchable fire of life within me. I'd become a completely liberated, an uncompromisingly sensuous woman. A mere ocean was no match for my fires. I'd been created to bring heat to the loins of ten thousand men. I felt suddenly supremely confident that I could fulfill my mission.
I waded on into the deeper water. An incoming wave rushed at me, reaching hungrily, caressingly, to touch and break around the firmness of my naked body. I sensed a spirit of maleness in those rushing waters. They closed, like a caressing, possessive hand, over my feverish cunt, then reached within it. I was lifted upon that great heaving male belly. It was filled with surging, flowing life and filled me with sensations of tingling awareness of the life that filled and surged and burned relentlessly within me. Life that appeared as fragile as mortality, yet had endured many million years as that ocean. Its immortality and mystery was wholly contained in a rain drop. My immortality and mystery was also wholly contained in a single drop.
I shook myself from his spell abruptly, struck by the realization that this ocean lover could turn treacherous if a girl didn't watch him. I turned myself on his broad, heaving belly, and began swimming back. Uncle Malcolm and Laura had finished their struggle upon the sand. They stood together, waving for me to come back and join them.
