Not often does a publisher run into a story that really gets to him. The kind of story Trudy Proudfoot wrote in They All Ate Candy is one of the grabbingest novels ever to cross this desk.
When it first arrived, we recognized it for what it is: An out-of-the-ordinary tale of a not-so-ordinary folk. We found a female hunting for personal liberalism, a man who enjoys keeping her unliberated, and a couple who dupe Candy girl into believing they are giving her a chance to really liberate herself.
There are some people who just have to descend all the way to the bottom depths of sexual depravity before they'll do anything to improve themselves. We who consider ourselves above "that sort of thing" condemn "that sort of person."
But this publisher wonders what each of you would do, given the sexual opportunities Candy was given. How many of you could resist the softness of a small child? The charm of Old Buzzy the beagle-dog? Or the chance to make money by demonstrating really really adult Party Toys?
Trudy Proudfoot has the answers to all these, and many more, in They All Ate Candy, and we are truly glad we're able to add it to your private collection of strictly adult erotica.
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
We want to make all Surrey House, Inc. books the perfect reflection of your reading and sexual desires and invite your comments at all times, so we can better serve you. We urge you to write us with exact details of what kind of books you would like to read, and any other sexual matters you are concerned about, IN ABSOLUTE, STRICT CONFIDENCE. It is not even necessary to identify yourself in any way. Only in this manner can we be sure we are giving you precisely what you desire. No matter is too complex for you to approach us with, and nothing is too difficult for us to attempt . . . but only if you want it. . . and only if you take the time to write us with your specific requirements.
Only you can do it. We here at Surrey House, Inc. only exist to serve you in these matters of great concern.
All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story suggestions will be turned over to our staff of writers all over the world.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
I knew he was drunk before he opened the door. I could hear him stumbling up the steps but it was payday so I hadn't really expected him to be any other way.
There's no one any sweeter than my Brian when he's sober. He's a big, loose-jointed, easy-going kind of guy that just has to grin at a girl to turn her on. He's cool-looking and boyish and it's exciting when he turns his attention on you. I've been married to him for three years and he still gets me to feeling fluttery when he looks at me the way he does sometimes. When he's drunk, well... that's something else again.
It isn't that he gets mean or anything. He doesn't, so long as I don't try to cross him but when my Brian gets loaded he thinks he's the world's greatest lover. He comes on strong with his blood-shot eyes and that open, vacant stare and he wants me to let him do weird things - nasty things that I loathe! It's like he's turned into a lusting beast, pawing me with his drunken, fumbling hands and wanting to use his mouth to... it's awful!
"You're drunk," I accused as he lurched through the door.
"So?" he answered with a lopsided grin. "What elsh is new? Have you been waiting up for your big daddy? Waiting for a little loving, I bet."
He staggered toward me with both arms outstretched. Fear... no, it was disgust that contorted my face as I instinctively backed away. A chill shivered through my body.
"Please, Brian," I begged. "Not tonight. You're too drunk. You'd pass out in the middle of it. Come on, honey. Let me help you to bed."
My words rolled off his back as though I hadn't said a word. I was his bride and he'd have me whenever and wherever he wanted me.
"Gonna give my lil' honey what her needs," he rasped.
His voice grated in my ear as he pulled me into his arms. Bitterly, I stood there while he groped with the buttons of my blouse. After a minute or two, he became impatient and pulled my shirttail up from the waistband of my skirt. His hand grappled with my brassiere, jerked it up over one breast and then he filled his hand with my spongy, cream-white flesh.
"Please, Brian!" I whimpered and deep inside of me, my soul cried no, no, NO!
My bosom is terribly sensitive. I'm quite large there... not big enough to be ugly but I have enough that people kind of notice. The least touch causes me to tingle all over and, normally, Brian can turn me on fast by playing around with me there. Not tonight, though. He grabbed me and started squeezing in a hard, fast rhythm without appreciating my need to be loved a little... well, he just ignored all of my finer sensitivities entirely!
The tears stung my eyes and as much as I love the guy any other time, I hated him then. I had to take it. Brian weighs at least seventy-five pounds more than I do and he's a couple of heads taller than me but I hated it! I truly, purely hated every single minute and every mauling caress!
Why do you do this to me? I pleaded silently. How can you love me so sweetly one time and make me feel like an animal the next? It's not fair! It's not fair at all!
I could have stood it if it had only been my breasts that he did it to but he was like that all over me... grabbing me, squeezing me, rubbing and poking... and that was only the beginning. That was just to get himself in the mood!
I felt absolutely ravaged... like some lady in the movies that's been kidnaped by pirates. They never show what all those horrid men do to her but you know... or like some pioneer woman dragged off by Indians. You know that she's been ravaged by every one of those huge brutes.
That's the way Brian made me feel when he was drunk and pawing me like that. He grabbed and poked... he thought up all sorts of ugly things to do... and he talked terrible then, too. This time, it seemed even worse than usual.
"Got the shweetesht titsh in town, baby," he lisped. "I could shqueeze the shit out of 'em and never get enough... and her lil' ole belly button. Where'sh it at? I missh my cute lil' belly button. Cutesht lil' ole belly button I ever did shee!"
"Brian, please," I whimpered miserably.
My skin crawled as he fumbled his way over me. He sounded like his mouth was full of mush... or garbage.
"There it ish!" he cried when he'd pulled up my skirt and groped his way in under the top of my panties. "Ain't that a cute lil' ole belly button? Now, where ish that lil' pusshy? Here, pusshy, pusshy! What you doing, hiding from your ole daddy. Why, you cute lil' bugger! You look just about good enough to eat!"
"BRIAN! OH GOD!"
That was the thing I couldn't stand! That was the thing he was always wanting to do when he was drunk. Of course, he wasn't that way at all when he was sober but sometimes, when he was too drunk to... uh, like when his pecker wouldn't get hard?... well, then he'd even want me to do it to him!
It's terribly difficult to explain how I felt when he held me down and kissed me there because he made me feel guilty and bad for letting him get away with it. I shouldn't have. There was nothing I could do to prevent it. He was a lot bigger than I and I dared not defy him when he was drunk because he could be really ugly when he was mad.
I shrank away from his touch and I was trembling violently. Even though I had given in to him, I couldn't keep from trying to squirm away for I really didn't want him to do it. It was instinctive to struggle when his thick, burning lips pushed into the moist privacy of my love-nest. I shuddered with revulsion as his thirsting mouth quivered in against my smoldering flesh.
It was vile! It was wrong... it was something no man should do to a woman, yet, when he did it to me, I felt that nasty feeling shoot through me like an electric charge running wild through a naked wire. My nipples tingled and deep in the burning darkness of my vaginal folds, I could feel an unnaturally intense glow throbbing wickedly as my juices began to flow.
"Brian!" I sobbed. "Oh, please don't make me feel like this! Oh God!"
It wasn't the good, sweet feeling of being loved. It was a torrid, wanton lust, like some beast pulling another animal down into his pit to grovel until they are both covered with slime.
"Ohhhhhh," I moaned. "Ohhhhh, Brian. How could you dooo this to meeeee?"
I twisted and squirmed miserably but there was no stopping him, once he had the fever burning in his brain. His cavernous, steaming mouth clutched at the trembling lips of my privates and his smoldering tongue trespassed deeper... deeper, prying its way past my furred gates to explore the secrecy of my inner parts. I shivered with disgust as the waves of excitement coursed through me.
"Brian! Oh, Brian!" I wailed but the only sounds I heard were the grunts and snorts of his lust.
I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. My lungs nearly burst from holding in the great volume of air, yet no amount of tension... no amount of straining on my part could hold back either the convulsive shudders that gripped my body or the waves of unwanted passion that coursed through my throbbing veins.
I was helpless... my body literally possessed by my husband's overpowering strength... by his vile attack... by my own disgust for what he was doing to me and what he was doing to our love.
The voluptuous sensations robbed me of all strength. My legs and arms became so weak that I could no longer strain against him! When he felt my body go limp, he sat up and looked down at me with a sarcastic smile.
"You like that, don'tcha?" he sneered.
"Don't treat me like this, Brian," I sobbed. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
"I know your lil' pusshy's hot enough to pop," he laughed. "I know you like it. You... "
"I hate it!" I screamed. "I hate every second! If my body reacts to this... this animal... thing you're doing... then you've only succeeded in making me hate myself, too. Oh God, I'm so ashamed!"
"Bullshit!" he scoffed.
His head again disappeared between my legs. As terribly as I detested all this, my loins were aching for the return of his moist, feverish lips. The feeling, as I waited, was almost a compulsion, like an addict needing a fix or an alcoholic shakily awaiting his first drink. It was not a pleasant ache but a painful one, not a hope for excitement but a prayer for release. Though I half lay on the carpet of my own living room with my own husband making love to me, I felt as degraded and defiled as if I were a streetwalker, selling my body to a degenerate.
His lips did return and, as I tried to pull away, I looked down and actually saw his mouth hotly connecting itself to my flesh. The sight burned itself so indelibly into my brain that I'll never forget it. I'll close my eyes twenty years from now and see the way his lips clung to my puffy folds, my genital hair springing up... even into his nostrils... and his cheeks rubbing against the insides of my legs.
I was paralyzed. I couldn't look away and I saw when he reached up with both hands to force my legs open wide.
The rush of feelings as my private parts opened to him was incredible. One moment, his mouth was pressed against my crotch with only his tongue invading the inner flesh. The next moment, his wet caress was descending to my very core.
"OHHHHHH!" I wailed. "Oh, Brian!"
My body shook and my thighs lifted up off the floor as I pushed against his smoldering attack. The warmth... the vile, compulsive excitement was something too intense to fight. It consumed me, my body... my nerves and muscles... even my brain. It was too potent a sensation to resist.
It was also too potent to last. In moments, thank God, the rush of excitement had swelled to the bursting point. With his tongue quivering in against my pounding pulse and his siphoning lips surrounding every morsel of turgid flesh, I was hurled over the edge, into the black abyss.
"EYIIIIIII!" I screamed.
The excitement crashed over me, around me, through me... and then release.
Everything blacked out for an instant and when the light did return, it brought the debilitating rush of voluptuous warmth to rob me of every last ounce of energy. In moments, my last reserve was gone.
"It's over," I breathed. "Oh, thank God, it's over!"
This terrible crescendo of feelings was something I never felt except when Brian attacked me like this. When we made love there was sweetness and warmth and a glow that went on and on after he fell asleep in my arms. Brian always went through some kind of climax and he complained that I was supposed to, too, but if this was the only way for it to happen, I wanted no part of it... not now... not ever!
Brian wouldn't stop, even when it was over for me. He kept on mouthing and sucking at me and now it was even more unbearable than it was before. My nerves were all on edge and my pussy was all sticky. It felt vile!
"Leave me alone!" I begged. "Please, I can't stand any more of this!"
Something must have clicked inside his numb brain. I know I was too weak to fight him off. As I cringed, helplessly, he drew away and finally got to his feet. He still had that smug, hateful grin.
"Jush a minute," he stammered. "Lesh get my clothsh off. I got to get comfor... comforable... ta... ble. My poor ole prick is all cramped up here inside itsh cage."
He staggered as he unzipped. Then he dropped his pants and raised one foot, weaving precariously as he tried to step free.
I stared up at him, feeling dirty from his saliva and my own sticky secretions. That dirty place kept throbbing with aftershocks until I was thoroughly miserable. I lay there, knowing that he wouldn't be through with me for a long time. It was then that I saw something that was very wrong!
"Brian!" I gasped. "Where are your shorts?"
"Shortsh?" he asked dumbly. "I dunno. Maybe I forgot them thish morn... "
"You did not!" I accused. "You wore the orange boxers I gave you for your birthday. I saw you put them on this very... Dear God! You've been out with someone... some woman! You've been messing around! Oh, Brian!"
I leaped to my feet. Pulling my disheveled clothing around me as best I could, I sidestepped my husband's reach and raced for the door.
With his pants half-off, he was hobbled enough that he could not lunge that extra few inches it would have taken to have caught me. Instead, he pitched forward and toppled to the floor with a crash.
I didn't wait to see if he was hurt. I scooped up my sandals in the front hall and grabbed my purse off the table by the door. With no thought other than the terrible, overwhelming knowledge that I'd been cheated on, I raced out of the house into the blackness of the night.
How could he? How could he do this to me?!
That one question tortured my mind, repeating itself with anguish, over and over and over. Then the other... all the possible answers began to tumble through my brain all at once.
He doesn't love me. He's never loved anyone but himself. He's selfish and mean... He does love me! He's just weak and women are always waiting to grab someone that good-looking... He's too sure of himself. He knows that I'll be waiting for him. I shouldn't be there. This time I won't go back in an hour and climb back into bed. I won't, even if I have to walk all night, I will stay away! He's really only insecure, poor lamb. The drinking and the women prove that. Maybe tomorrow, after he goes to work - maybe I can go home then. I could sleep all day and not answer the phone in case it was him. That would give him tonight and tomorrow until five to worry. That ought to be enough... but what if he doesn't come home? What if he thinks I've really left him ?
It was so dark that I had no idea of where I was going. I just walked. I made up my mind that I was going to stay away from Brian at least for one night... but a couple of blocks further on I was wishing I could find some easier way to break him of drinking, somehow. I didn't want to leave. If only I could teach him a lesson... find some way to scare him or something. Even if I had some way of making my own way so he'd know I could walk out if I wanted to... maybe then I could make him change.
Brian was a body-and-fender man so he was terribly strong but the only time he got mean or chased women was when he was drunk. The rest of the time he was real munchy and, as mad as I was at him, it was hard not to remember just how munchy he was. If there was only some way to keep him off the booze!
The more I walked, the more my feelings changed. It was always that way. What had started as anger and fury at what he'd done to me got twisted around as I stamped along the dark sidewalk. Before long I was sure that Brian wasn't to blame at all! I felt sorry for myself and sorry for him and I wasn't even mad at him anymore... until I saw that bar!
I don't know what made me walk in that direction. It was the place he always "stopped by", a place he wouldn't take me because I was too "nice" but it wasn't too bad a place for him to spend an hour or two every evening and half the night every time he got paid.
Looking up at the neon sign, blinking away in the night, I could easily have picked up a rock and heaved it into the tangle of glowing tubes. Even the name made me sick for the place was called the Pink Pussy!
Torn between anger and self-pity, I stood back in the shadows of a large elm while I tried to think what I should do. It was well after midnight, probably close to closing time. What I should do was go home and forget the whole thing.
The scales tipped the other way when I saw two women walk out of that place. One, or both of them could have been with him this very night!
With pure fury welling up in my throat, I stepped from the shadows and walked toward that bar. I was determined to see for myself what kind of a hell hole my husband chose to spend his idle time in.
I could not hope to fight what I didn't understand. Somehow, I would have to find a way to compete.
CHAPTER TWO
I'm not at all sure what I intended to do as I marched into that place. Actually, I was too angry to be thinking at all. Once inside, however, the anger quickly gave way to confusion. I couldn't see any of the cheap women I'd expected the place to be filled with. Other than a few dim lights around the bar, I couldn't see anything at all.
No wonder he likes this place, I thought furiously. As dark as it is in here, a man could get away with anything! Brian's shorts could be in one of the booths!
Although I'd been tramping through the night for some time, I'd paused long enough, staring up at the sign, that my eyes were no longer adjusted to the darkness. When I stepped inside, I was blind but too embarrassed to stand there indefinitely, waiting until I could see. Fumbling in my purse to make sure I had some money, I made my way cautiously to the bar.
"Hi there," the bartender called. "You're just in time."
He started toward me, hesitated when he noticed the panic in my face, then grinned and came on.
"You look like you could use a double something," he said. "What'll it be?"
By now, I was certain there must be at least a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me. Nervously, I laid a dollar bill on the counter.
"A Tom Collins?"
"Are you asking permission or ordering?"
"A Tom Collins."
"That's better," he said. "Single or double?"
"Single."
"Chicken."
"A double."
"That's better. You only have half an hour or so to get plastered so it's better to get right at it. Now, do you want to sit here and pout or join the party?"
"What party?"
"There's only the Donovans and me," he explained. "Everyone with any sense has already gone home."
He pointed toward the other end of the bar. Even in the dim light, I could make out a couple sitting there. I didn't want to join any party. I wanted to be alone so I could think. They didn't give me the chance.
"No use you having to run from one end to the other, Will," the man said. "This will get us at least half way to the door."
I watched them pick up their drinks and come toward me. For an instant, I had the urge to run but they were so entirely different from what I'd expected that my curiosity got the better of me. They didn't weave or act anything like Brian does when he's smashed. I found myself wondering how they could have sat there all night and still act sober.
I wondered a lot of things about those two people in the few moments before we were introduced. How could the man bring his wife into such a place if it was as bad as Brian said? They were older... quite a lot older for there were white patches of hair at the man's temples and little crow's feet at the edges of the woman's eyes when she smiled. Still, I could sense something about them that was special, a warm friendly feeling that made me like them immediately.
They were certainly the most distinguished, handsome-looking couple I'd ever seen. They looked even more out of place than I felt in this crummy little neighborhood bar. Even without light, I could feel the kind of place it was and they weren't that kind of people. Their clothes were smart but casual, in an expensive sort of way. They reminded me of people in a whiskey ad, showing life at a country club or in some big hotel. People like that never came into the neighborhoods where I was raised.
"Do you mind?" the woman asked. "We won't bother you if you don't feel like talking but there's no sense making Will walk so far."
"We ought to go home after we finish this one, anyway," her husband added.
"I don't mind... I mean, it's fine by me," I stammered.
"Are you all right?" she asked and she really seemed concerned.
She'd noticed my swollen eyes. It embarrassed me.
"Yes," I mumbled. "I'm okay."
Although I could have stared at them both for ages, I ducked my head and concentrated on my drink. As puffy as my eyes felt, I must have looked terrible. At any rate, they were kind enough not to force me to join in their conversation.
"The way unemployment is now, even a college diploma doesn't guarantee a man will get a good job," the bartender said. "There's no room left for the little guy in this country. I'm damn lucky to be a bartender. Most factory jobs are giving away to automation. The little guy doesn't have a chance any more."
"Nonsense," snorted the woman. "You've been listening to your customers too much. There are all sorts of opportunities left in this country... in this state... in this city, even. Isn't that right, Brad?"
"Right," her husband quickly agreed. "The trouble with people these days is that they only want to gamble on a sure thing. They're afraid to try something different so they sit back and make excuses. They don't have a college diploma, they say, or maybe they don't even have a high school diploma. Bull! Tell me honestly, Will. When was the last time you actually had to show your high school diploma? I'd be willing to bet that you've never opened it up since they handed it to you at graduation. It's how a person feels inside that counts. If he feels stupid, no doctor's degree will make him look any better. He has to feel smart and everything else will come."
"Are you saying that I could get a high-paying job in this town without a high school diploma if I thought I was good enough?" Will demanded.
My ears burned, waiting to hear Mr. Donovan's reply. Part of my own feeling of helplessness with Brian was because I could never support myself. I had never worked, never learned how to work, and I had no way of supporting myself except by him. With no family to run to, Brian knew there was no way I could leave him, whatever he did.
"I'm not talking about jobs, particularly," Mr. Donovan said. "I'm talking about opportunities... businesses... ways to make money without having to hire on at some sweat shop." shop."
"I knew there'd be a catch," laughed the bartender. "Next you're going to tell me that all I need is money to invest and I'll have... "
"Not money, necessarily," Mr. Donovan corrected. "At most a little time and effort is all a man needs. I'm not selling anything, Will. We're just talking, remember?"
The bartender grinned, sheepishly. "You had me going there for a minute," he said. "I was ready to quit this job and get with it."
I was greatly disappointed. I had hoped... but there was nothing to hope for. I reached in my purse to see if I had enough money for a second drink. There was little point in staying but I didn't want to walk away and be alone again, either.
There was no folding money left in my purse but I was able to scoop up a handful of change. Furtively, I tried to count it. Mr. Donovan must have noticed for he pushed his glass across the bar and asked for another drink for himself.
"Why don't you fill us all up and one for the bartender... on me," he added. "One of my little opportunities paid off rather handsomely this evening. We should celebrate it, I think."
"Just what field is it that's so full of opportunity?" Will asked.
"Sex," Mr. Donovan answered easily.
"What?" gasped Will.
"Brad, you've shocked this poor girl," his wife scolded. "Look at her face! Explain yourself before she faints."
"It's all right," I stammered. "I was just surprised, a little... I mean... "
"You weren't the only one!" hooted Will. "Don't tell me you two are working the... "
"Hardly," the woman laughed.
"Our business is legal, legitimate and lucrative," her husband assured us. "Furthermore, we perform a service that's been needed for a long time."
"What is this... twenty questions?" laughed the bartender.
"No," Mr. Donovan assured him. "It's just a little hard to explain in a few words. Let's see. You've heard of party-plan selling, I suppose?"
"Party what?" hooted Will.
"Selling," the man repeated. "Where someone invites their friends over and you put on a party for them, using products you sell to them afterwards."
Will's look of skepticism broadened into a wide, mischievous grin.
"You sell sex?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Of course not," Mrs. Donovan cut in. "Brad likes to shock people. We sell pots and pans, party favors, and, if our audience asks for it, a few adult toys and gadgets."
"Toys!?" snorted her husband. "I'd hardly call a fifty dollar vibrator a toy."
She laughed. "Certainly. A toy is something you play with. It's something that's supposed to give you pleasure... right?"
"Okay," her husband conceded. "We sell toys. Damn! Don't belittle them to the customers like that."
"I never heard of a party plan like that before," Will said with enthusiasm. "Tell me more. I might just have a party myself."
"There never was a party plan like ours before," Brad Donovan assured him. "We thought it up and we've done damn well with it, too. We've had to hire four assistants to help us keep up with it."
"We didn't think anything up," his wife corrected. "It was all Brad's idea and it just sort of exploded. We never dreamed so many people would be interested."
Her face was so animated as she talked, the enthusiasm seemed to pour out from her. I couldn't imagine what they were talking about. I'd never heard of any kind of a toy people would play around with sexually and I was pretty sure that I wouldn't like them if there were such things. Still, I was super curious. There were a dozen questions I wanted to ask, if only I'd had the nerve.
"The biggest bonus is the people we've helped," Mr. Donovan went on. "Most have been women, of course. They need the help more than men do. Why, you'd never guess how many frigid women aren't really frigid at all. It's a shame. Marci has helped dozens get over their inhibitions without having to change husbands. She does it without even embarrassing them."
"It's rewarding work," his wife agreed.
"Exactly what do you do?" Will demanded.
My glass was empty but I didn't want to go home. I was as curious as the bartender. Keeping my purse under the counter, I reached in and fumbled around to see if I had enough money for another drink. When I had scooped up a handful of change, I peeked furtively to see if I had enough. Again, he saw me.
"Here, let me buy you a drink," Mr. Donovan said. "Make her another of whatever she's having, Will. Now... where were we? Yes, Marci and I don't have time to do any of the actual selling any more. It's gotten too big for that. We start out with a good-looking guy or a pretty young girl like we have here. What kind of money are you making my dear?"
"None," I admitted. "I have no job."
"Out of work or what?" he wanted to know.
"I'm not trained for anything," I had to admit. "I've been thinking about looking for a job but I don't know who'd want to hire a dumb-bunny like me."
"I would," he said without batting an eye.
"Yes, but I couldn't do something that... "
"Let me tell you what you'd do if you worked for me," he suggested.
His eyes were level and honest as he looked at me. He couldn't possibly have been connected with anything really bad.
"We sell Eternity Cookware," he began. "Have you ever heard of it?"
"It's very expensive," I told him. "I have a friend that bought a set and they were real nice but I could never afford them."
"That's right," he said. "But you know that they're an old, established line."
"Yes," I agreed.
"And you know that they're sold at dinner parties?" he went on. "Our hostess furnishes the food and cooks it for the guests."
"I could do that," I said, smiling in spite of myself. "I'm a good cook. I just couldn't get up in front of everyone and talk about it afterward."
"You could if you were trained for it," he said. "You've trained yourself to cook so you're confident about it. It's the same with public speaking. Now, what Marci and I have done is add a couple of other lines to the Eternity Cookware. Our Happy Time Party Favors were a natural. We use them to set the table and decorate it. This cuts down the dishwashing and while the guests eat, our hostess shows them some of the other clever table settings and favors in the line. There's everything from supplies for kiddie parties to off-beat decorations and jokes to use at a swinger bash."
"And that's all there is to it?" I asked.
Mr. Donovan laughed at the way both the bartender and I were hanging on every word. "That would depend on the group," he said.
"There are lady's luncheon parties where we wouldn't even show all of our Happy Time products... but... if it's a swinging older group, like a swap party, for them we'd bring out our little black case of sex toys. By God, Marci, I like that! I never did find the right name for our third line. How about Pleasure Time Sex Toys?"
"Or Toys to Feel Twats by," chuckled his wife. "How about Donovan's Erector Sets? That gets the meaning across."
I wished they'd play their name games later. It was nearly closing time and I knew I'd never see them again. If I didn't find out what they were talking about now, I'd never know.
"What kind of sex toys?" I insisted.
"Vibrators, ticklers, water stimulators, dildoes... all of that sort of thing," he said as easily as though he was speaking about some innocent child's toy.
Mrs. Donovan noticed the stricken look in my eyes. I must have looked horrified for I could feel the color draining from my face.
"This is done discreetly," she assured me. "That's why we're able to help so many. I can show a customer that she's not frigid without her having to take off her clothes. There's no embarrassment at all. You can imagine what this means to a woman who's considered herself frigid all of her adult life."
"They don't get embarrassed?" I questioned dubiously.
"Not at all," Marci Donovan guaranteed.
The drinks were beginning to take effect. I could feel a numbness in my face as I stared down at the bar. I didn't dare look up. The answers I needed were too important.
"What about the hostess?" I wanted to know. "Doesn't she get embarrassed, showing all those things?"
"You'd think they would but they don't," Mrs. Donovan said. "If anything, the experience helps them to become more relaxed about the subject. We have one hostess that had terrible hang-ups when she first came to us. By the time she was ready to start selling, she was completely relaxed about it. Her husband has told us that her job is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to their marriage. Quite frankly, they were having troubles and he'd gotten so he didn't even want to go home at night. You've heard of people like that."
I certainly had! I perched there on the bar stool next to these people and I felt fate nudging me toward them. This could be the answer to everything. This could be the very reason Brian drank! Whatever, their proposition could make me independent. It could make me a better wife - even save my marriage.
I felt like a woman on the verge of drowning. Desperately, I grabbed for the first thing afloat.
"Could I learn to be a hostess?" I asked.
"Certainly," they answered in unison.
"When?" I wanted to know.
"Why... tomorrow if you like," Mr. Donovan suggested.
I took a deep breath. "How about tonight?" I asked. "I don't want to go home... at least, not yet. Besides, by tomorrow I'd probably lose my nerve."
And that's how come I went along with Brad and Marci Donovan.
CHAPTER THREE
Usually, I don't toady up to people right off. I don't know whether it was the liquor or the Donovan's sympathetic ways but before we were out of the parking lot, I was telling them my whole life history.
Not only did I blab out all of the details of my argument with Brian but I went into nearly every other argument we'd ever had, too. Somehow, it always seemed to get around to our differing views on sex. Before long I was even telling them about my sex life before I met Brian!
It's not that there's that much to tell but I'd never told Brian anything at all and here I was confessing my deepest secrets to total strangers. Then, after hoarding my private affairs all my life, when I did tell the truth, they didn't believe me!
"You mean you gave in one time when you were fourteen and then never let anyone touch you again until your wedding night?" Mrs. Donovan asked. "That doesn't sound very realistic."
"I didn't let him, really," I told her. "At least, I didn't know what I was getting into until he started forcing my legs apart. By that time, it was too late to stop him. I tried. I screamed bloody murder... but it was too late."
Mr. Donovan shook his head. "Still, you're a healthy young woman and you certainly must have learned something after... "
"I got pregnant, Mr. Donovan," I whispered.
"What?"
My face was burning but I had to finish. It was a secret only my parents ever knew.
"I had a baby. My mother wouldn't let me keep it but I named him Dickey... Richard, actually. He was such a doll but they wouldn't even let me touch him. I had to sign him away. Funny, huh? When we were messing around I didn't even know where babies came from. I just liked the way he made me feel and I liked all the attention he gave me. The baby... little Dickey changed all that."
I was sitting between them, the tears streaming down my face. Mrs. Donovan put her arm around me and gave me an affectionate hug.
Mr. Donovan patted my knee. With my own parents both dead, it gave me the first feeling of protective love that I'd felt in a long time.
"It was for the best," she told me. "Best for Dickey and best for you. Yes, dear, even for Brian. You were right not to burden him with the little sins of your past."
"I'd hardly call that a little sin," I answered meekly.
"We were obviously meant to get together," her husband cut in. "I've never seen a young woman that needed us more than you do and you will probably be good for us, too."
"And she deserves a break, too," his wife agreed. "You said your name was Candice?"
"They call me Candy," I said.
"Well, Candy," Mrs. Donovan said cheerfully, "I have good news. We're going to show you how to keep a husband and how to be happy, yourself. We're going to do it tonight! We may not get to bed before morning but I don't mind. You'll make the best testimonial our product has ever had... and a doll of a hostess, to boot."
"I just wish you could help Brian, too," I confessed. "I love him but he gets some sick ideas when he's drunk."
With a chuckle, Mr. Donovan squeezed my knee. "Once you get over your inhibitions, that young man won't waste time going to any bars," he assured me. "He's going to be so anxious to get home, he won't have time to get drunk."
"That would be wonderful," I admitted.
"It will be wonderful," Mrs. Donovan corrected. "Don't speak negatively, my dear. Don't even think that way. You have a little problem with sex but it won't take... "
"It's Brian," I tried to explain. "If he'd just treat me like a lady, I wouldn't mind if he wanted a little every single night. Really! I don't mind sex but I think a husband has to have respect. I just don't want... I don't like... this animal business when he's drunk."
Mrs. Donovan squeezed me affectionately. "Sweetheart," she teased, "when it comes to giving yourself in love, you've got to love enough that you don't care about being a lady any more. I'll show you. Trust me."
I did. I really trusted both of them completely. I was feeling a little woozy from the drinks but I settled back in the car and let myself go loose. Soon I felt a lot better. I even closed my eyes.
I'd actually dozed off when they pulled into the parking area in front of their apartment. It was on the Parkway and I'll bet there wasn't a studio flat in the building that rented for less than three hundred dollars a month. Their's must have run twice that for it was huge! I eventually counted five bedrooms plus a den and separate dining room. The living room was so plush you could get lost just in the carpet!
"Make yourself comfortable," she told me. "On second thought, come on into the bedroom and I'll see if I can't find you a gown and robe to slip into. Nobody can relax in street clothes."
I followed her down the hall and into the master bedroom. I must have "ohhhhed," a dozen times on the way. Her bedroom, however, was more of an "AHHHH!"
My only squeamish moment was when she tossed me a gown and began, herself, to undress. For an instant, I was afraid she was a Lesbian on the verge of making a pass. When she didn't and, instead, climbed into her own nighty without even glancing my way, I felt ashamed for having doubted her. She found a fitted robe of crushed velvet for me to wear and I felt like a queen as we swished back into the den.
Brad Donovan had mixed us each a drink. He looked like a movie star, standing there beside his own bar.
I said, "Really, Mr. Donovan, I've had way too much to drink already."
"This is a mild one," he coaxed. "It will help you to get to sleep."
"I'll have one with you," his wife promised.
"Oh, all right," I laughed. "I just hope I don't make a fool of myself."
We took our drinks and sat down. I could almost forget that I'd run away from my husband for the moment. Mr. Donovan told me that I shouldn't be so conscious of how I appeared to others. I thought he was talking about my being afraid of making a fool of myself with the drinks but pretty soon he explained that I was that way when I talked about my husband, as well.
"You describe everything as though you were standing off on the sidelines, watching the action. That's no way to live, child, here, take this ball. Hold it for a minute while I demonstrate."
He handed me a ball about the size of a large grapefruit and made out of the kind of material that bowling balls are. I held it for several minutes but when he talked on and on, my wrists grew tired and I rested it in my lap. It was then that I felt the ball begin to vibrate.
I looked down and frowned, then opened my mouth to question him but he told me to be still.
"Take your hands away. Push back on the arm rests," he ordered. "That's a recliner chair... there, that's right. No, just leave the ball where it is."
"But____"
"I have reasons for doing this," he said sternly. "Please don't question them until you hear me out."
The ball lay snuggled against my crotch and though it touched nothing vital, the vibrations it sent out reached to my core. When he tilted me back in the chair, the change of direction compounded my problem until there were definite sensations... sexual sensations in my most basic parts.
I tried to listen to him as he talked but most of my efforts were spent on tensing my muscles enough to keep that heavy weight from settling in against my mound.
"Relax," he ordered sternly when he noticed what I was doing.
He reached down and grabbed one of my ankles, giving it a quick jerk. Immediately, my defenses crumbled. The bridge that had supported the weight of that ball now gave way and the ball settled firmly against my trembling love-lips. Shockwaves ripped through my body and I grabbed for the ball, desperate to lift it away.
"Please!" I whimpered. "Don't."
With a smile, he lifted my hands away, then scooped up the ball and balanced it above me. Where his hands touched me, I felt a burning sensation even worse than the vibrations of the ball.
"You say you aren't inhibited," he observed. "You tell me that nothing bothers you so long as your husband respects you and treats you like a lady. That, my dear Candy, is a bunch of bullshit!"
"What? How do... what do you... ?!"
"You're afraid of pleasure itself, young lady. You're absolutely terrified of feeling anything that might give you a thrill. Lord, it's no wonder he won't come home!"
He nodded triumphantly to his wife as though their diagnosis had just been irrefutably proven. I was so confused by his rapid change toward me that I didn't know whether to run or to cry. I felt like doing a little of both, I think.
"That's different," I argued. "I'm not that way with Brian... not at home. It's different, here in front of you."
I couldn't help the whine in my voice. It was like I was fourteen again and trying to explain something to my father. To a father you can never explain.
"Why?" he demanded. "You're not doing anything improper. Neither am I. Why should you be so terrified of your own body? Your feelings are a part of you. I can't question you about them or begin to help you until you have some feelings to discuss."
"Oh," I whispered meekly.
I wavered a moment, then hesitantly took the ball out of his hand and laid it against my groin. I felt foolish at my childish response.
"That's better," he said. "Spread your legs out a little. Give it a chance."
He reached over to the end table and picked up what looked like a small portable radio. The moment he touched it, the vibrator in the ball began to jiggle. Obviously, it was run by remote control.
"I thought it was your wife who did these demonstrations," I reminded him.
The Donovans exchanged a smile.
"When you're ready for the demonstration, Marci will do it," he said. "I'm only trying to establish how much work it's going to take."
My only answer was an unimaginative, "Oh."
Around them, I felt my lack desperately. I could have kicked myself for the millionth time for having quit school. I should have gone back after the baby came but I was too ashamed. I was always afraid I might run into someone that knew. Mr. Donovan was right about my being conscious of how I must look only it wasn't me that watched from the sidelines. It was the rest of the world that I feared.
Through all these thoughts, the ball jiggled gently along. From my warm, buttery depths, the honey of excitement began to flow. I tried not to let it show in my face but it was hard to concentrate on what he said when my little love-nest was throbbing with those special feelings. It was like Brian was right there, doing that awful thing to me but I was sitting in a comfortable chair with no one even touching me. I could see my entire reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. Nothing looked amiss.
"You have to train yourself," he said. "You have to force yourself to realize that there is nothing inherently wrong with sensual sensations. It's nothing more than a simple bodily response, no more unusual or out of the ordinary than the urge to eat or go to the bathroom."
He let me digest this as we sipped our drinks. It was hard to keep from closing my eyes as the waves of desire washed over me. Frequently, I heaved a labored sigh for I was so aroused that I'd often forget to breathe.
"Do you try to please your husband?" he asked.
His conversation had not required answers until now. It was difficult to get my brain into gear.
"How do you mean... well, sure, I cook all the... "
"I mean sexually," he corrected. "Do you run your hands over his jutting pole. Do you make it shiver with your touch? How about his balls? Do you reach into the darkness of his bush to cup his belching nuts? Do you press... "
"No! Oh, NO!"
I should have known by the strange way he talked that he was goading me but I couldn't think of anything but making him stop at the time.
"Do you brush your lips over his spasming eye or lick a tear of his cum as it runs down... "
"Oh God! PLEASE!"
I was shaking all over, trembling as though I were afflicted with some disease. There was no time to push away the ball. I could think only of escape. Reaching for the arm rests, I struggled to lift myself out of the chair.
Mrs. Donovan took my hand in hers and her cool fingers went to my wrist. Their calming effect was like magic.
"It's all right," she whispered soothingly. "We had to find out what your fears were. We had to know for sure before we could help... Brad, her pulse is going wild. Take it easy with her, please."
Brad Donovan shrugged and quickly polished off his drink. A satisfied grin spread slowly across his handsome face.
"I think we've established a pattern," he said. "We might badger a few more details out of her but I hardly think it's necessary. The rest is up to you, Marci."
"I think that's best," she quickly agreed.
"Mind if I go on to bed?" he asked. "I'm bushed."
"Of course not, dear," she said.
She kissed her husband goodnight, though it was hardly more than a peck. With my senses pounding out an erotic tattoo, it was difficult to believe that either of them could be so unmoved. When Mrs. Donovan turned her attention back to me, there was sympathy and friendliness in her eyes... but nothing else.
"First, let's turn that ball off," she said.
Taking up the little box her husband had left behind, she snapped the switch and the vibrator stopped. Before I could lift it from my groin, she flipped it up, caught it, and laid it aside.
"Now, I'm going to push the chair on back until you're lying flat. Just relax. There's nothing to it. Have you ever had a massage?"
"No."
"A pity. Some time I'll treat you," she said. "Here, roll over on your stomach, dear. Tell me, how often do you masturbate... and how?"
"What?" I choked. "Never!"
"I can't help you if you're not going to be honest with me," she scolded gently.
"But I don't," I argued. "I did once, when I was fifteen or so... no, fourteen. It was before the... anyway, I tried it a couple of times but afterwards... after I had the baby... never!"
My face burned, even to speak of it after all this time. Here I was, twenty-two years old and still I was paying for the weaknesses I had at fourteen. Thinking about it, I suddenly realized how foolish it was. I mentioned it to Mrs. Donovan.
"You're making progress," she said. "Some people go through their entire lives without realizing how foolish their conscience can be. Of course, masturbating isn't the sin you seem to think it is even now. I rather doubt you'd burn in hell for it. Here, I'm going to loosen up your neck muscles a little until you've relaxed. Then we'll see how well you do."
My neck wasn't what needed to relax at that particular moment. It was my poor little pussy that ached. Miserably, I forced my mind off of it and tried to enjoy the soothing massage she gave.
"You mustn't let yourself get upset when we speak of sex," she said. "I think I'm as much a lady as anyone but I love it. A woman is supposed to. If you've never patted your own body, you've missed a very wonderful part of being a woman. Turning a man on by playing with him a little... that's another wonderful part of being a woman."
Everything she said made sense. I tried rationalizing it to myself. I tried making excuses to her. I explained that my parents had been killed in the accident four months after the baby came. Having gotten pregnant when I did, everyone assumed that I was wise beyond my years. They figured I must know all I needed to. I could give all sorts of reasons but I could not change the way that I felt.
We talked about it then. She turned me over and we continued to visit while she unpacked her demonstration kit. I scarcely noticed what she was doing until she lifted up another vibrator for me to see. It was shaped like a man's penis.
"When I'm showing these to the ladies, I simply press this in against the vaginal folds and let it vibrate through their clothes. If they want to browse through one of my magazines while the gadget does its work, they can. We often sit around and joke about the pictures until they pop off."
"Right in front of everyone?" I asked.
"Yes, dear," she answered gently. "That's part of the treatment. Learning to take sex lightly... learning to take yourself with humor for that matter... that's the secret of getting rid of inhibitions. I always carry half a dozen of these vibrators with me if it's easier for them, I have them all do it at once. This way they can sit there and joke about the trouble they have breathing... the little moans they can't squelch... things like that. By the time they peak, they've come a long way toward putting sex into a more natural perspective. I had one woman buy four for her bridge club. They make a game of it that's incredible but they're helping each other to develop a richer appreciation of their own potential."
"I'm glad no one else is here this first time," I confided. "I don't think I'm ready for the other, yet."
"Since we're alone, there's no use taking the chance of making you sore, grinding a lot of nylon into your twat," she said. "I'll lift this out of the way and you can lay it right here where it feels the best."
Before I could stop her, the little vibrator slid into a place that was incredibly intimate. In desperation, I sucked for air as my whole body seemed to be drawn toward that throbbing sensitive core. I was a woman one moment and no more than a pounding pulse the next. Attached to that pulse were a pair of rubbery legs, useless arms and breasts that had turned rock-hard. Though no one had touched my body, my skin puckered with goose-flesh from my scalp to the soles of my feet.
"Now we'll just visit a while," she said.
"I can't," I wavered.
"Nonsense," she scoffed.
"I mean it, Mrs. Donovan, I... "
"Call me Marci," she coaxed.
"Oh, Marci!" I wailed. "I can't even breathe!"
Reaching into my crotch, she pulled the vibrator away. Instead, I felt her fingers stroking gently over my fever-swollen lips.
"Is it too much, dear?" she asked.
There was no evil intent that I could see. Her eyes showed nothing more than concern. I wondered how any woman could touch me like that unless she was getting some kind of kick out of it. Marci's fingers told me one thing and her eyes another. I was terribly confused.
"I didn't dream you'd have such a rapid response," she confided. "Your pulse is racing! How could you possibly think you were frigid with a reaction like that?"
"I don't know," I whimpered. "I____"
"You're only fighting yourself, dear," she said in a motherly tone. "Either your husband is the world's worst lover or you're not giving him a chance. Oh dear! If I'm not careful, you're going to explode right here. Come on. I want you to have your first crest with the water stimulator. It'll give you a lot better high."
"Please!" I panted. "Can't we... just get it... over with?"
"That's the kind of attitude you're going to have to overcome, Candy," she scolded. "Come along now. You'll love the way the other makes you feel and it will give you time to cool down a little, too."
Grudgingly, I followed her into the master bedroom. Seeing her husband sleeping soundly was reassuring, somehow. If this was some erotic game they were playing, surely he'd have stayed awake to watch.
In their bathroom I was asked to undress for the second time while Mrs. Donovan ran water into the tub. Though it wasn't any glamorous sunken bath like you see in magazines, it was very nice. Some of the decorations were pretty adult. There was a statue on the commode of a man playing with himself. His penis was sticking straight up and it was huge. It was a lot nastier than the plaque of a cherub with its little thing all hard. For some stupid reason, however, the cherub bothered me more. It just looked so sweet and innocent with it's little pecker all vulnerable and tender. Every time my eyes landed on it, I had to pull them away. Just staring at it made my pussy ache.
Once I had my nighty off, there was nothing to do but wait while she hovered over the tub making sure that everything was just right. I kept glancing back at that cherub until I was really aching. I mean, it hurt! The only thing I could think of to stop the throbbing was to sit on it. I pulled down the lid of the toilet seat and sat down.
There was an instant rush of excitement as the cool plastic pressed against my desire-swollen lips. My eyes closed as the passion flooded over me and I held my breath until the rush had passed. Then I sucked for air to fill the need I had, too long, ignored. The change was so rapidly accomplished that I nearly blacked out. Dizzily, I gripped the edge of the commode.
Through it all, Marci Donovan watched, though I was unaware of it.
"You'll never cool off that way," she teased.
"I - I didn't think," I stammered. "I felt too weak to stand but when I sat... "
"Don't make excuses," she snapped. "It isn't necessary. What you should be thinking is "Wow! What a wild surprise!" That's all you should think, Candy. Don't ruin it with, I shouldn't have... I didn't mean to... it was an accident. Who cares?"
Mutely I nodded. I was behaving childishly.
"I... Marci, I'm so... I ache something fierce!"
She smiled. "That's better. You're hot, honey. That's good. Come climb into the tub. The water will take the ache away and I'll show you a little gadget that will make you sail!"
Eagerly, I climbed into the tub and the water was a soothing balm to my throbbing, blood-gorged love-nest. For several minutes I floated, more relaxed and more sensually liberated than I'd ever been in my life. The water made me almost bold. As it caressed my breasts and lapped against my tender, sensitive lips, I could let my legs float apart and my arms fall away from my breasts. The water flooded into my quivering inner flesh and it seemed to calm and arouse me at the same time. When Marci gently spread open my legs further and reached down to lift me by my fanny, I didn't even flinch. I simply lay there, letting my pelvis float to the surface.
She held me there and I could feel her fitting a wide rubber flange to my crotch. It covered the full length of my private parts from my furry mound and love-lips back to my puckered bun. When the water began to bubble up against me, it was a gentle kiss that drove me crazy with excitement.
"Marci!" I cried. "OH, MY GOD!"
"Good?"
"OHHHH! OHHHHH YESSSS!" I panted. "I - I can't stand it! Take it away!"
"Why, Candy?" she insisted, making no effort to relieve me.
"It's... It's too... "
"Too good?"
"Yes!"
"You don't want it to end?"
"Nooo... Yesss! Oh, please!"
"You can have it any time you like, love," she whispered. "Go ahead and enjoy it. Think of sexy, hot things. Let yourself go!"
I didn't have to think. All I had to do was look up. That tiny little penis of the cherub seemed almost to be stabbing at me as I looked at it. In an erotic fog, I dug in my heels and pushed, straining my thighs tightly up against her. It was a lewd, animal kind of posture, yet the more I contorted my body, the more exciting were the sensations that flooded through me. The cherub seemed to take wings. He flew toward me, bringing me his precious little prick.
"I'm so hot," I whined.
"Then rub it in, baby," she rasped. "Give yourself a wild, abandoned fuck-off!"
If Brian had said such a thing, I'd have turned to ice. Instead, I felt a rush of fire pour through my brain and then I began grinding up against that hose for all I was worth. With the water still gurgling around my slippery flesh, Marci pressed down on the hose to give me a hard surface to push against. It was so good, I almost cried when I knew it would end.
"OHHH! OHHH! OHHHH!"
A moment of absolute frenzy shot through me, then the passion poured in and all urgency was gone. My pulsing pussy throbbed out a cry of pure joy and then it was soaring... floating in ecstasy.
"AHHHHHH!"
I didn't realize that I'd trapped Marci's arm between my legs as I squeezed out my last wild thrusts. It was several moments before I relaxed enough to release her.
CHAPTER FOUR
I slept good for a couple of hours but the moment the sun rose, I was wide awake. I lay there, thinking about everything that had happened to me. It was lonely laying in a big bed without Brian beside me. When I noticed the phone on the nightstand, the urge to call home was overwhelming.
The bell rang only once before he answered. Although it couldn't have been much past six-thirty, Brian was wide awake.
"Candy? Is that you, baby?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes, Brian."
"Where are you? I've been worried sick about you. Why aren't you home?"
The words all ran together in a distressed blur but the message was clear. He did love me! He was worried sick! A shiver of excitement ran through me the way it used to when he'd call for a date and I'd pretend to be busy.
"I spent the night with friends," I said evasively.
"What friends?" he shouted as his temper suddenly flared. "You don't have no friends! Are you with some goddamn man?"
For an instant, I forgot the game. Furiously, I yelled right back.
"NO! I'm not going to be with my own goddamn man, either, until he straightens up!"
"What did I do?" he wailed.
"The usual," I said.
"I don't remember nothing, baby," he whined. "Tell me what I did and I'll apologize. Whatever it was, I'm sorry."
"You always are... when you sober up," I answered.
"Come home, baby," he begged.
"Not this time! This time I'm not coming back until I'm independent, Brian," I told him. "I'm going to train for a job so I'll be able to earn my own money if I have to. I'm not going to take your dirt any more!"
"What did I do, for God's sake?" he cried.
It went on like that for half an hour or more.
He pleaded and I cried and it was all very grim. Still, I knew that this was one drunk he wasn't going to forget. Maybe this time...
I told him that I loved him before I hung up and he said he loved me a dozen times. I told him I'd call again and then we said goodbye. It was very sad.
After I hung up, I began to feel better. I'd talked to him and I hadn't weakened. I was really going through with it. No more furious daydreams of what I ought to do. No more wasting time feeling sorry for myself. This was my one chance and I was taking it.
The room the Donovans had let me use had its own private bath so I hopped up and started the water running in the tub. When I looked for a towel, I found a water gadget like she'd used on me but I quickly closed the door. Thank heaven there were none of the lewd statues and things around. I didn't want to think about any of it.
Had I been drunk, I wondered, letting them do all those things to me? Obviously I'd had more than I could take but, even in the cold morning light, none of it seemed too bad.
I'd learned some things I really needed to know... things that were quite wonderful when I stopped to think about them. Marci Donovan had assured me that I wasn't frigid. She'd even hinted that I might be more than just a little warm. She'd proven that I could be aroused without vile things being done to me and she'd hinted that my problems might be entirely Brian's fault. The relief of such an idea was incredible. It was like a weight being lifted off my heart.
I climbed into the tub and lathered myself. I even lifted one leg up out of the suds to admire it. Marci had said a woman should enjoy her own body. She'd also called me a doll. It was about time I took a good look at myself and began appreciating the fact that I was me!
By the time the Donovans got up, I was in great spirits. I helped Marci make toast and we had a light breakfast. The other hosts and hostesses were due at nine-thirty for a staff meeting, they told me. I was anxious to begin.
I was curious about them, too, and surprised at how old the first woman was. She was well over thirty and not even pretty, though she dressed real well and looked nice in her clothes. It didn't take long to realize that they'd picked her for her personality. It was impossible not to like her.
"Hi!" she said as soon as she saw me. "You're joining the staff, I hope."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hey! Wow! I'm not that old am I?" she laughed. "My name is Sue and nobody... but nobody calls me ma'am."
"Hello, Sue," I said. "My name is Candy."
"That's better... and now that that's over, I must tell you what a doll you are. With your looks and their pitch, you ought to make a million."
In a few words, she had me soaring. I was so optimistic that when the next salesman showed up, I nearly came on too strong. Sue was quick to warn me.
He was a thin, wiry young man that was intensely, super handsome, if you know what I mean. He almost looked evil, he was so perfect, like a gangster or something. He had all kinds of polish and all and he came on real strong until I set him straight about me being a married woman. I was flustered for a half-an-hour after we were introduced.
"Meet Candy," Sue said as soon as he came in. "Candy, this is Jeff and watch out for him. He bites before he barks."
"Don't let her kid you," he quipped. "She'd rather have me bite than bark any day."
"I'm not afraid," I told him.
"That's a good girl," he purred. "If we ever get the chance to practice team selling, I get first grabs at Candy. You all hear that?"
There was only Sue to hear.
"You'll be grabbing first anyway," she observed with a chuckle.
Taking my hand in both of his, he gave me a confidential squeeze as he turned his attention fully on me.
"Welcome home," he whispered.
"I'm so glad to be here," I told him with enthusiasm. "Sue tells me I can make a lot of money and it sounds like such interesting work!"
I didn't mean it quite the way it sounded. Jeff glanced over at Sue and grinned.
"You haven't had our products explained?" he asked.
"Well, yes... some," I admitted. "I've heard about them, a little, but I haven't seen them... yet."
Jeff showed a beautiful flash of white teeth as he grinned. Warmly, he put an arm around me and started walking toward the hall. "Tell you what," he said warmly. "I've got my little black case here. Why don't we find a quiet spot and I'll show you our entire line?"
"Bullshit!" snorted Sue. "He's showing you his entire line right now, Candy. If you're ever going to practice any sales resistance, now is the hour."
My heart was pounding a mile a minute but I couldn't let it go any farther. Though I hated to hurt his feelings, I side-stepped his grasp and laughed it off with a shaky giggle.
"I think we'd better let Mrs. Donovan show me," I suggested. "My husband doesn't approve of my going off with strange men."
"Husband?!" he yelped. "What a waste!"
At that moment, the Donovans walked in and I could feel Jeff's eyes practically raping me even after I turned away. It was hard to concentrate my attention on the Donovans with him staring at me like that.
"Don and Linda will be a little late," Mr. Donovan began. "Linda is having clutch problems so Don is swinging on by to pick her up."
"That's the way to swing," quipped Jeff.
"I'll hold still for that," Sue agreed.
"If that's the best you can do, forget it," he popped back. "You have to put out a little action, yourself, if you want to swing with me."
"Knock it off," Brad Donovan called.
He was grinning so I knew he wasn't mad. They'd all talked so fast that I missed most of it but it was fun hearing their banter. They must be old friends, I decided.
Mr. Donovan opened one of the black cases and we all sat down. Discreetly, I craned my neck to get a peek at the contents. Although Marci Donovan had opened one last night, I had seen nothing but the penis-shaped vibrator and I expected to find the case heaping with such vile-looking contraptions. When I saw nothing but neatly packed boxes, I felt let down... almost disappointed, though such a reaction was certainly hard to explain.
"All right," Brad said. "We'll start with the ticklers. Does anyone have any problems?"
"I've had a couple of guys that were too small to keep them on right," Sue said. "You've heard that before, of course."
He nodded. "They're working on it," he answered. "With so many youngsters showing up, they're having to redesign a lot of our products. There's a new plastic out that's so elastic it should handle everything from the teeny-boppers to the he-men without cutting off anyone's circulation."
He'd been fiddling with one of the boxes as he talked and when it was open, he poured the contents out onto the coffee table. There were half a dozen circular bands of rubber decorated with everything from rubber warts to what looked like false eyelashes. I couldn't think what they might be used for but I didn't want to ask. It was Jeff that noticed my perplexed frown.
"I'd be glad to show you how these are used, honey," he said. "Why don't we just slip on into____"
"They're ticklers, Candy," Sue cut in. "You slip them onto a guys's pecker and push them down near the base. Then, when he's pushing it to you, you get tickled to death. There are a couple here that fit up higher. Here, they are. See?"
I shuddered at the thought. Brian never got close to me when he was doing it, thank heaven. Even when he was clear inside, there was quite a space between us.
"What's the shiver for?" Jeff asked.
At that moment, another couple came through the door. The woman wasn't much older than me and she was real sexy-looking. Her knit blouse was cut low, in a wide V that showed a whole lot of her large breasts and I was pretty sure by their natural line that she didn't have on a brassiere. When she began moving again, I was sure of it!
The guy was real cool, too. He wore knit bells that hugged his narrow hips and outlined an awfully big bulge at his crotch. His face was kind of all-American with brown hair and a clean, Joe College look but his shoulders were so broad and his flanks so narrow that it was hard not to look down at his swiveling hips.
"About time," snorted Jeff.
"Donovan said you'd swung by to help Linda out, Don," Sue quipped. "I'll remember that when I need a little."
Don chuckled. "When did either of you ever need it?" he asked, "Not that I'm not more than willing, you understand."
"Come on, kids," Brad scolded. "We're never going to get through with this at the rate we're going. Linda... Don, we're on the ticklers. Have any of your customers come up with any new ideas?"
"Nothing new," Linda admitted.
"I have one," Don said. "I had a lady ask for a doughnut with rubber warts fused to the top."
"Mmmmm," Brad said thoughtfully. "Sounds like a good idea."
"What's that?" I blurted.
The idea of mixing grotesque toys with food was unthinkable. I gaped as Mr. Donovan picked up another box and opened it. What he lifted out was the size and shape of a doughnut but it was made of rubber. He picked up the tickler with the warts on it, lined up the holes and pressed the two together.
"The idea of the doughnut," he said, "is to form a spacer at the base of his penis. This acts like an extension of the man's pelvis and rubs against the female genitalia when a man is too large or a woman too small to make normal contact possible. The addition of the warts would simply give the woman more pleasure.
Does this answer your question, my dear?"
"Yes, thank you," I whispered weakly.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I'd liked to have crawled into a hole someplace for I hadn't intended to open my mouth at all. Of all the looks I got, I could feel that Linda's was the most critical.
"Brother!" she whispered with feeling.
"This is Candy, by the way," Brad explained. "Marci and I met her last night and she wants to try to sell our products. Marci and I think she may surprise us all. If she can keep that blush, she ought to sell a million through the back door."
"Not the dumb blonde bit, I hope," Linda grumbled. "That went stale in the twenties."
"Can you think of a better idea?" Brad demanded.
I could feel them all staring at me but I couldn't look back at them. Instead, I kept my eyes focused directly at the floor.
"I guess not," Don laughed in a moment. "It might even be fun helping her to develop a pitch."
"She tells me she's very married," Jeff said pointedly.
"Not very," laughed Linda. "Not enough to know which end to keep open and which ought to stay shut!"
I didn't answer her but I knew then and there that I would never like her. Linda was crude and rude and... she was no lady! You couldn't picture Indians or pirates ravishing her! She was the kind that would be down on the deck screaming for more!
The boss called for order then and he went on through the rest of the line, asking for comments and new ideas on each product. I didn't understand half of it but I didn't ask any more questions. There'd be time for that after Linda was gone.
After an hour or so, they all left and the Donovans began coaching me on how to sell the other lines. By evening, I could cook a pretty fair meal with the pots and pans and serve it attractively on the Happy Time party plates. Since we always served the same menu, it wasn't hard to learn as I had expected. Within a couple of days, I was ready to try.
They started me out with an afternoon luncheon affair. Only women were to be present and I was not to show anything but the Eternityware and the blandest items of the Happy Time Party Favors. Mr. Donovan came along to help out if I goofed and though I was nervous, I was terribly anxious to try.
I'd talked to Brian only once since that first morning and he was beginning to sound desperate. I would have to find out whether or not I could do the work soon or give up and go on home. I couldn't have him that miserable.
When we got to the woman's house, she had nine guests waiting for me to demonstrate my lines. All of them were relaxed and pleasant. One had brought along her little eight-year-old and he immediately offered to help.
"What's your name, honeypot?" I asked.
"Danny," he said. "I'm eight. You're sure pretty."
"Thank you. You're a doll, too," I told him.
Though he was in the way from the beginning, I let him help me and we both enjoyed it immensely. Mr. Donovan stayed in the living room with the ladies and Danny and I got to giggling so hard one time that he had to come back and hush us up.
From then on, when we'd get tickled, I'd grab him up and slap my hand over his mouth. Holding him there tight against me, I'd smother his giggles while he'd smother mine. Once the little bugger pressed his lips hard against mine instead of his hand! For some reason that was funnier than anything.
I'd have been a wonderful mother, I thought and I knew that it was true.
I did real well on my demonstration. A couple of the women acted like they'd have liked me to show more but Mr. Donovan shook his head and gave me a warning glance that told me it was time to quit.
"There's no use asking for trouble," he explained on the way home. "All of them have to want it before you dare show anything on the blue side. You did beautifully tonight. That was beginner's luck selling a full set of Eternityware. The commission will run nearly a hundred and the two bookings could lead to even more. I'd say, with the party favors and all, you made a hundred and a quarter for yourself this afternoon. How about that?"
"That's wonderful!" I answered breathlessly. "It doesn't seem possible."
"You handled yourself well," he went on. "Except for the kid, you did great. Be pleasant with children, of course, but don't over-do it."
"What did I do?"
He laughed. "With the kid, it was the hard sell, if you know what I mean. You turned it on for him like he was the only person at the party. People like it when you notice their kids but they feel conned if you... "
"I wasn't conning!" I gasped. "I fell in love with that little guy. Honest, wasn't he the cutest thing you ever saw in your life? Mr. Donovan, I'd never con about a thing like that! I'd never con about anything."
He shrugged. "Then just hold it down a little, okay? It's the adults that you're trying to sell. They're the ones with the money."
I nodded. I could understand that much... even agree. That night, though, when I climbed into the bathtub, I took the tickle hose with me. It was the first time. Though I didn't want to use it, I was beginning to miss Brian something fierce. I needed to feel something warm and... well, I just did it.
I lay there, with the bubbles pouring into my pussy and I thought about how unfair Mr. Donovan had been. How could anyone think I'd put on loving a sweet little doll like that Danny? Why, I could have loved him all to pieces!
Someday, I hoped I could have another of my own... another to suck milk from my titties the way Dickey never had... another that I could touch and pet, the way they'd never let me touch my own.
Well, I'd touched one... I'd touched and held and kissed a darling little boy this afternoon. I'd show them.
CHAPTER FIVE
The very next night I got my first chance to sell it all. If I did well, they promised me that I could expect to move home soon, so long as I didn't tell Brian what I was doing.
"You keep that young man guessing a while," Marci cautioned. "You just tell him you're selling pots and pans at parties five nights a week and let it go at that. That's all he needs to know for a while."
I called Brian and hinted that I might be ready to come home soon but I didn't say when. We both cried a little, I think. By the time I hung up, it was almost time to go.
Marci was to accompany me this time. They felt that she could keep me from getting nervous better than anyone else. Actually, there'd been so little time to think of where I was going and what I was about to do that I hadn't gotten very up-tight about anything until a few minutes before time to leave.
Brad had told me not to worry about selling from the case. He said that all I had to do was pull each box out, open it up, and explain what I could. When I told him that I didn't understand it all, he laughed and told me that would be my biggest selling point.
We got to the house before the guests began to arrive but this was not unusual. The lady who was giving the party was named Irene Lancet and she showed us into a lovely, old-fashioned kitchen. All the modern conveniences were there but they seemed secondary to the big open-brick hearth.
"Gee, with all this stuff, what does she need more for?" I asked as I poked through the cupboards filled with pots and pans. "Here's an Eternityware pan... and... Hey! She already has a complete set!"
"I know," Marci assured me. "She bought them from me a year ago."
"Then what's the use of selling her on... "
"She has other guests," Marci reminded me patiently. "Besides, we carry other lines, as well, pet. Now, help me unpack and let's get started. She says there'll be twenty-four for dinner so I'd better give you a hand."
I brought in the roast, which had been baking at home all afternoon. After I'd popped it into her oven, Marci and I went into the dining room to decide on the decorations.
"We'll use the Swinging Twosomes Set for the cloth and favors and plates," she said. "You can tape those photographs over the two pictures but I think we'll change the centerpiece a little. The orgy dolls are a lot more interesting, I think."
"They're kind of dirty," I answered.
I wasn't really so squeamish about looking at the lewd little dolls as I was embarrassed to have strangers think they were my idea. Marci assured me on this score.
"They've all attended our parties before, dear," she explained. "If we didn't come out with new gimmicks every once in a while, they wouldn't keep inviting us to demonstrate. The orgy centerpiece is new."
"I didn't mean we shouldn't use it." I answered hastily, "I was just afraid of what they might think."
"Then don't worry about it," she laughed. "They like what I tell you they like. I know them all. Now, can we seat them all at one table? Yes, I guess so. Why don't you start decorating while I carry on in the kitchen?"
It was fine with me. I bustled around setting the table like I was an old hand... until a twelve-year-old wandered into the room as I was putting the finishing touches to the centerpiece!
"Hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" I cried. "Scat! Out!"
The sandy-haired boy slipped easily past me and stood gaping up at the matts I'd taped over the pictures. They were photographs... actual blow-ups of men and women having intercourse!
"Please," I begged. "You're going to get me into all kinds of trouble. You can see that you don't belong here, can't you? Please go."
He turned around and caught sight of the orgy going on in the center of the table.
"How come they're all screwing?" he asked. "Can't you turn some of them around the other way?"
I gasped. He couldn't have meant what I thought.
"What kind of a perverted child are you, anyway?" I demanded furiously.
He grinned. "I'm not perverted," he said. "I'm just a normal, healthy twelve-year-old, I won't cause any trouble. I just want to look around."
"OUT!" I cried.
"What's going on... Oh, hi, Terry," Marci called from the kitchen. "What's the matter?"
"She won't let me look around... " the boy began.
"He's just a kid!" I screeched. "He shouldn't be looking at this kind of stuff!"
"This is Terry Lancet, dear," clucked Marci. "He lives here."
"He's not coming to the party, surely!" I snapped.
"Yes, he is," she answered softly. "Irene and Pete Lancet believe in sharing everything with their children... even sex. Now that Terry is twelve, they're letting him spend a few hours at their adult parties... sort of give him a chance to work into things gradually."
I was speechless. I fled into the kitchen and stayed there until the guests had arrived. Although I couldn't bear to be around him in the dining room, it wasn't difficult to be pleasant when he sidled out to the kitchen to make up to me. Soon we were fast friends. I didn't mind having Terry around at all, so long as we stayed out of that other room.
When Marci said it was time to serve the guests, I tried to talk the boy out of going back into the dining room but he said it would disappoint his mother.
"I won't say anything," he promised.
"I'll be too self-conscious," I told Marci. "How can I show that kind of stuff in front of a child?"
"It won't bother you after you've seen the other guests. They all sort of fit together and before you know it, you'll forget that Terry is even there."
"I hope so," I answered dubiously.
When the time came, of course, she was right. By the time I'd demonstrated the Eternityware and started through the Happy Time Party accessories, I was pretty relaxed. There was a lot of banter back and forth and they all seemed to like me. The fact that they laughed at things I would have called nasty made it easier for me to show. It was, after all, little more than a joke when I blew up the penis-shaped noise-maker. There was no use making a big thing out of it.
I was a little shaky when I reached for the black case but the guests were calling, "Go, go, GO!" and their enthusiasm was somehow contagious. After all, all I was doing was showing the stuff. No one was going to ask me to demonstrate it.
The first box I pulled up contained the ticklers. One by one, I held them up before my audience and tried to make some appropriate comment.
"This one features long false eyelashes for those formal occasions," I quipped, or "Here's one for the man who has everything... but warts."
"Where does the one with the eyelashes fit?" someone wanted to know.
"I believe this one goes up... uh, sort of higher than the others, if you know what I mean. It's supposed to fit under that... uh, bigger part."
They roared with laughter, all except for one man. I was horrified to see him step into the middle of the circle.
I was having enough trouble trying to think of words to describe the various parts of a man's penis. I'd heard what Brian called it when we were in private but I wasn't sure what I should say to a bunch of strangers. My eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped a foot when he offered to model it for me.
"... since you aren't equipped," he added with a grin.
"But I couldn't... I wouldn't!" I spluttered. "Oh, guy! I never expected anything like this would happen. Marci? Isn't that up to the other guests?"
"Exactly," she laughed. "Do whatever you like, dear. You can fit it on him and let him show it around all he likes for all of me."
I could have died, right there on the spot. She knew I couldn't go through with anything like this, yet she made no move to help me out of it. Good Lord!
I looked down and saw that he was already unzipped. It was too late to run... too late to do anything but bluff it through. I looked around and everyone else seemed relaxed about it. With a weak grin, I shrugged my shoulders helplessly.
"They warned me there'd be days like this," I said shakily.
I picked up the double-lashed tickler and waited for him to pull out his thing. It was hard even to look at it, yet when it came I was surprised to find it already fully erect.
"Guy! How'd you do that?" I asked. "I haven't done anything sexy, yet."
Everyone roared. With shaking hands, I stretched out the rubber ring and tried to thread it onto his prod without touching his feverish flesh. There was no way I could avoid physical contact.
With my whole body trembling, I took his silky cockshead into my hand and stretched the band on over his tender flesh. I was a wreck by the time I had it stretched out around the base. Then I had to straighten out the band, pull the wrinkles free, and make sure it didn't choke up on him anywhere. In the process, my hands were all over him. After a while, I was able to carry on with surprising ease.
I don't think he's as big as Brian, I told myself as I worked. The head is sure a lot fatter, though. It's almost like a knob stuck on the end of a pole. I didn't know men could be so different. I wonder if women are this different from each other, too.
"Does it feel all right?" I asked when I'd finished adjusting it.
"Does it?" he groaned. "Just a little more there on the underside and I'll be there!"
"That's not what I mean, silly," I scolded playfully. "Does it bind up anywhere?"
"No," he admitted. "It's an ache more than a pain. Are you going to take pity and let me demonstrate it on you?"
"Nope."
"Ruby? How about you?"
"You want to tickle me to death with that thing?" a plumpish blonde giggled.
"How can I tell if it works any other way?" he asked. "You wouldn't want me to buy a pig in a poke, would you?"
"I ought to say no after a remark like that," she quipped.
Getting to her feet, she wriggled out of her panties and then flopped back down on the couch.
"I'm ready," she said.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was so incredible that I couldn't even turn away. One minute they were laughing and teasing with each other, a dozen feet apart. The next, he was climbing all over her... groveling, pushing, the way a man does. With a shudder, I saw him guide his pole into the center of her crotch and then he was driving it on into her belly.
"Oh God! It's alive!" she squealed.
Everyone began to laugh. Soon they were rooting, like it was a contest or something.
They were vile... all of them. There was nothing soft or gentle about this kind of sex. I started to turn when I felt something brush against me. I turned and saw that it was the boy.
"Terry," I hissed. "You shouldn't see this."
"Do you have one of those things to fit me?" he asked.
I glanced down before I could stop myself. Sure enough, his small, precious little fingerling was sticking out as rigid and as hard as any man's. His pants were unzipped and he was holding it out to me, like a present.
"Terry, you don't want me to... "
"Try one on me," he pleaded. "Mama wants you to try."
Frowning, I glanced over at his mother. She was smiling at me. With a wink, she nodded her assent.
I took a deep breath and looked back at his tender little-boy mouth and fawn eyes. How could anything so sweet want to act like the animals there on the couch.
"Please?" he whispered.
"I'll try," I promised gently and I reached down and took his sweet, silky shaft into my hand.
It was like touching electricity and fire all at the same time, the way the Shockwaves raced through me. For a moment, it was all I could do to breathe. When I could, I reached down and scooped up all the ticklers. Then, one by one, I fitted them on his fragile-feeling flesh.
Touching him like that was a disease. Once caught, it was almost impossible to lay aside. When I'd tried everything on him and nothing fit, I tried them all on again. I just couldn't take my hands off his budding magic wand. That small staff poured feelings into me like only an alcoholic could feel about liquor or an addict compulsively drawn to his fix.
When my excuses ran out, I suggested that Terry could model some of the other items for me, like the vibrators and water wands. While we waited, I even tried a few of them on to see if they'd fit. It was really only an excuse for my fingers to return to his throbbing shaft.
"I'd like someone like you to teach me things," he whispered.
"What kind of things?" I asked stupidly.
He played right along. "I'd just like to know what a woman's tits feel like and... things like that. I'd like to have the same kind of fun the grown-ups have."
"I couldn't do that," I said mournfully. "Really, Terry, I don't know much about things myself."
"Maybe we could teach each other," he suggested. "I've studied a lot. Do you live with the Donovans?"
"Yes, but you mustn't come over," I answered nervously, "I'm married, you know."
I said this with one hand cupping his balls and the other clinging to his little peter like there was no tomorrow. Still, neither of us had sense enough to notice. He looked so crestfallen that I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
"Then how come you don't know everything?" he asked.
It took some thought before I could even try to answer that one.
"I guess I didn't know that I wanted to learn before now," I admitted.
"That's crazy," he scoffed.
"Yes, it is," I agreed. "I never realized just how crazy it was before tonight."
"You like touching me, don't you?" he asked.
Instantly, I was on the defense. "No!" I said as I jumped away. "It's just easier than touching all those other men."
Terry laughed. "You're out of your mind, lady," he teased. "You never had such a good time feeling anything up in your life. You don't even know what turns you on!"
"Hush! Oh, please," I hissed.
"That's all right," he grinned. "Feel me up all you like. I'll get into your pants before long!"
Terry's words shocked me out of it. Badly shaken, I went on with my pitch even before the couple on the couch were through. There was a lot of laughter and a lot of pointed suggestions but I sidestepped them all. When it was over, I declined their invitation to stick around and party. Without being rude, I got out of there as soon as I decently could.
CHAPTER SIX
All the way home, Mrs. Donovan questioned me about how I felt. All the way home, I lied.
"It didn't bother me, really," I told her. "I was surprised when that first guy jumped in there but I was okay after that. After all, nobody forced me to do anything."
"It would have been all right if you'd decided to stay," Marci told me. "We have no rules against fraternizing with the customers. After all, it's a pretty potent subject and we wouldn't want to leave anyone hanging."
"But I feel just fine!" I assured her. "Besides, it wouldn't be right, with me married and all. I'd never cheat on Brian. The work isn't nasty so long as I only sell the stuff. Actually, the experiences have all been broadening. I've already learned all sorts of things that I never knew anything about before. I figure it's going to make me a better wife."
I rattled on and on, full of pious platitudes that were nothing but a crutch to my shamefaced ego. I was not all right. My crotch burned with an unholy glow and I could think of nothing more important than locking myself in my room with my demonstration kit. With those titillators and vibrators, I could find the relief I so desperately needed.
Mrs. Donovan had little to say. She parked the car and led the way to the elevator. Once we reached the apartment, she insisted that we go first to the den and see if Mr. Donovan was waiting up. Miserably, I discovered that he was.
"How'd she do?" he asked.
"Fine," his wife answered. "She must have cleared two hundred. What do you think of that, Candy?"
I could have cared less at that particular moment. She had waited, however, to announce my high earnings until her husband could share the fun. I could not disappoint them.
"That's wonderful!" I said with feigned enthusiasm. "It's hard to believe, as easy as it all went."
"As beat as you look, it must not have been too easy," he quipped. "You can run along to bed if you like, Candy. Marci can fill me in on the details."
"I am tired," I readily admitted.
"Just leave your case there on the table. We'll have everything sterilized and ready to go by tomorrow. There's a staff meeting at noon," he reminded me.
I didn't hear anything after he told me to leave my case. It was all I could do to stand still, as bad as my pursed love-lips ached.
"Sure. Uh, goodnight," I said, choking out the words in a hoarse, unnatural whisper.
I staggered down the hall to my room, stepped inside and locked the door. Miserably, I cupped my throbbing groin. In my panicked need for release, I'd almost forgotten the water gadget stored in a drawer in my bathroom. I hurried in and pulled it open. The damn thing was gone!
It was as though they were conspiring against me, letting me suffer like this, yet I knew it was my own fault. She'd asked me how I felt at least half a dozen times. I'd been too ashamed to be honest with her. Why, in God's name, couldn't I have told the truth?
I stood there for a long time, not really knowing what to do. Then I started the water running into the tub and began to undress. Whatever I had to do, it would be easiest to do it there.
Why had that little boy been so wise? Why did he have to feel so good? What was wrong with me that I kept having to touch him? It was almost like a compulsion.
Lord, he felt like a piece of heaven... so incredibly soft and tender. I don't guess I ever felt anything so good as that.
My clothes were all on the floor by this time. I just stood there, staring at the water as it poured into the tub. My fist was rammed hard against my crotch, holding back the ache as best I could.
I don't want to use my finger in there, I thought miserably. There's something extra nasty about touching myself there. If only there were something else I could push against... something hard and... warm...
I turned to search the shelves and that's when I saw him! Brad Donovan was standing there in the doorway, quietly watching me.
"Ohhhhhh!"I cried.
My arms criss-crossed across my breasts, then moved down to cover my crotch. In despair, I reached for a towel but my employer slowly shook his head in sadness... the disappointment in his eyes stopped me in mid-flight.
"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked gently.
"Tell you what? How'd you get in here? I don't know what you're... " I stammered.
"Candy... Candy," he said with a sigh. "Come here, child."
I don't know whether I actually went to him or whether he came to me. I only know that it was like my father taking me into the protection of his arms. I began to cry and from that moment on, I gave no thought to being naked... no thought to the fact that I was in the arms of a handsome, sophisticated man I scarcely knew. I was home and home was a warm, safe haven.
He didn't paw me, the way a man would. He put his arms around me, gathered me in against him, and held me like a father would welcome a lost child.
"Marci said they gave you a bad time," he said. "I'm sorry."
"They did," I whimpered. "A man took his thing out and made me fit a tickler onto him. I had to handle his penis and everything."
"Tell me about the boy, Candy. You didn't mind feeling the boy."
I shivered at the thought. "I didn't want to... " I began. "His mother told me to fit him."
"Candy," he chided gently. "I realize it wasn't your idea. Just tell me how you felt about holding that budding little pecker of his."
"I -I felt wrong... I... "
"But you liked it," he urged. "You couldn't help but like it."
"Yes," I sighed and all the fight seemed to pour out of me. "I couldn't stop the way it made me feel... like you said. I tried. Dear God, how I tried."
"It's all right, Candy," he said soothingly. "We can't help what we feel. It's a part of us... physically and psychologically."
I'm sure that my own father would not have put it differently. I clung to him as a drowning person clings to the first debris that floats by.
"I'm so miserable," I sobbed.
"I know," he sympathized, "and we're not going to let you suffer any longer. Come now, Candy. You're bath is ready. Hop in and I'll help you bathe."
I hated to let go. Of all the things I needed in this world, the thing I needed most was to be held... to have something to cling to. He was gentle but firm in his demands, however. Pushing me away, he unwrapped my arms from around his neck, patted my shoulder affectionately, and turned me around to face the tub.
"In with you now," he said.
"You aren't going to use that water thing, are you?" I asked. "I mean, you're not going to do anything about... my problem... here... in the... "
"No, child," he cut in to rescue me. "I'm not going to embarrass you that way."
With a sigh of relief, I obeyed. I allowed myself to be propelled forward and then I stepped into the tub. A delicious warmth poured through me as I settled into the warming waters.
"Did you use the oils?" he asked.
I was almost too content to answer.
"No, I forgot," I admitted. "I never had them at home. We don't have anything but a shower in our apartment. I know they feel good, though."
"They do more than make you feel good, young lady," he said in a scolding tone. "It saves your complexion, child... keeps it from drying out. In years to come, you'll be grateful you started the habit now."
He poured in a few drops from one bottle and measured out a capful from another. It was the same formula his wife had used. With his fingers, he stirred it into the water.
"Mmmmm," I purred. "I love the silky feel to it."
He perched on the edge of the tub and reached for a bar of soap. Methodically, he began working the lather into my neck and chin.
It was heaven. I felt like a little girl being pampered beyond my wildest dreams. He lifted my chin and painstakingly washed and rinsed my face, careful not to let a drop of water reach my eyes. When my cheeks glowed with the fresh cleanliness of a good scrubbing, he moved on down to suds my sweating neck.
Out onto my shoulders he worked and by the time he reached my breasts, I was too relaxed to feel any concern. I did titter a bit with embarrassment, however.
"I never could relax like this around anybody but my doctor," I confided.
He smiled. "Did he give you baths often?" he asked.
"Who? My doctor? Of course not, silly," I giggled. "I just meant the relaxing part... like when he's checking my... uh, breasts for cancer."
"Mmmm hmmmm," he answered absently.
He seemed so engrossed in his work that I didn't try to keep a conversation going. Once I'd really let go, I had to admit that what he was doing felt good... a lot gooder than my doctor had ever made me feel. When he let one hand work on down to knead the soft part of my belly, it felt delicious. The way his fingers swirled the suds around and over my tummy made me want more and more and more.
"When you're all tensed up, whatever the cause, it's a good idea to relax and let yourself go," he said. "Are you beginning to feel better?"
In one way, yes but in another, the ache was again beginning to grow. I didn't dare tell him that!
"It's fine," I purred.
"You have a lovely body, Candy," he said, matter-of-factly. "You should be proud to be so well arranged."
"That would make me conceited," I blurted.
"Not a bad kind of conceit," he explained. "You should know the power you have over a man... the power you have over your husband. You have everything it takes to make that husband of yours straighten up. You just haven't sense enough yet to know what you've got!"
I always get embarrassed over compliments but Mr. Donovan used such a scolding, fatherly tone that it left me feeling warm and wanted inside. His fingers grazing over and around my breasts caused a tingle that had a warming effect, too.
"Relax," he kept telling me.
I did. I just let go all over the place.
As he worked, he kept letting water out of the tub so he could suds my tummy and thighs. When he finished, he'd splash the water that was left up to rinse me. It was a delicious feeling but as he worked around and around my crotch, I began getting nervous over what he would do.
I needn't have strained so. When there was nothing but my twat left to wash, he simply handed me the soap.
"You can finish, if you like," he said. "I'll get a towel."
My face burned as I sudsed myself. What was the matter with me, anyway? Was I disappointed that he hadn't touched me there? That was crazy, yet my crotch was throbbing with discontent. Whether it was still aching because of that boy or whether it had hopes of a more immediate nature, I couldn't tell.
"Come now," he said. "It's time to dry."
How I wished Brian was here. Suddenly, I didn't need a father image. I needed my husband. Ruefully, I wondered how long this glow would last if Brian was actually here. It was funny how I could loose it so easily when I needed to stay sexy, yet I couldn't get rid of the feeling when I didn't want to feel that way.
I stepped out and he wrapped me in a voluminous towel. Carefully, he patted the moisture from every part of my body and I felt little and alone and lost. Quietly, the tears began to flow.
He finished and laid the towel aside, then reached for the large powder puff that sat in the bowl of talc. He'd begun patting the powder onto my neck when he noticed my tears.
"Candy," he whispered gently.
It was only the one word but it brought on a deluge. His arms encircled my shoulders and he pulled me in against him. For a time, he just held me there and let me cry.
I was grateful that he didn't ask any questions because I wouldn't have had the answers. I didn't know what was the matter with me or why I was bawling like a baby.
He kissed my cheeks and my neck and it felt good to have him there, close and warm against me. After a while, he reached around and opened the door, then snapped off the light.
"Come along," he said. "You can't go on suffering like this. It's ridiculous."
I expected him to take me into my bedroom and push me onto the bed. He didn't. Instead, he walked me to the door and out into the hall. At the door leading to the master bedroom, he stopped and knocked.
"Come in," his wife called cheerily.
He opened the door and looked in to where Marci already lay in bed.
"The child is in terrible shape," he said.
"Poor lamb," answered Marci. "I was afraid of it. Take her on to bed and comfort her, Brad. She mustn't go on like this."
"You don't mind?" he asked.
"Of course not," she scoffed. "This isn't the dark ages, after all."
"Good night, dear," he said.
"Good night... and Candy? I hope you feel better soon, dear. Don't ever try to suffer through anything like that alone. You're never alone when you're with us."
"Thank you," I whimpered.
He led me back to my bedroom and to my bed but the squeamish feeling... the worry over what he would do was gone. Whatever he was going to do seemed natural to both he and his wife. It would be foolish not to trust them. They certainly trusted each other.
He pulled back the covers and helped me in, then smiled at me as he began to undress. With the first button he undid, my pulse began to race. I was going to lay in his arms. He was going to make love to me. Somehow, I think I'd always wanted him to try.
There was that feeling that I was missing everything... the feeling that Marci was surely right. Perhaps Brian was a lousy lover. It must be him that turned love into something wrong.
Another man might make me feel like a queen. Of course, it was Brad Donovan that could show me the truth. He was the only smooth, sophisticated man I'd ever known. Surely, he would be a master in the art of love.
"You're not frightened?" he asked as he unhooked his slacks.
"No," I answered in a weak, little-girl whisper.
"It can be beautiful, you know," he suggested.
"Yes," I answered breathlessly.
"And right. You need to know how a man can make you feel."
"Yes."
He skinned down his pants and shorts, then reached over and turned out the light. I was grateful. The dark would let me feel without thinking of reality too much.
I did look at his body, though, before he reached for the switch. He had a breezy puff of white hair across his chest and a firm, flat belly. His thing was hard and erect but not as immense or threatening as Brian's.
I reached for him eagerly, wrapping my arms about his neck and hugging him in close. His warmth... the silky feel of his flesh against mine made me tremble with excitement. My breasts against him... how conscious I was of the way they felt pressing into his manly chest. I tingled all over when he reached up and brushed his hands against the outer rim where my swollen breast-flesh curved out away from my body.
"You're lovely... lovely," he whispered. He made me feel lovely. He made me feel beautiful. Above all, he made me feel!
His hand was firm and cool as it glided down my side, outlining the curves and planes of my body. Everywhere he touched, my flesh became excited and passionate! Electric currents of desire radiated out from my groin until every part of me was aflame.
His mouth found mine and there was no longer the fatherly caress. His kisses were thirsty... demanding... hot! When his torrid tongue probed past my lips, I welcomed it hungrily, pouncing on it and sucking it with ardor.
I was so intent upon the feelings he had roused within me that I never considered that he might wish to feel things, too. When he begged for my caresses, I was in ecstasy!
"Touch me," he begged. "Tease me."
His thighs drew away to give me room and I reached for him with trembling hands. Gingerly, I brushed my hand over his satiny head.
"Ahhhh," he sighed.
"You can stand that?"
"Of course," he groaned. "I love it."
"But Brian would____"
"I'm not Brian, little one," he reminded me. "I'm man enough to have control. I can take whatever I like. Ahhhh, yes, that's beautiful. Mmmmmm, now roll over on your back. I'm going to do the same for you."
His hand brought an ecstatic arousal to my loins as he trailed his fingers over my puffy love-lips. Though I fought to relax, I could scarcely breathe.
He'd pushed me away from his penis when he made me move but I reached for it again. To explore... to really enjoy the feel of a man there was a unique opportunity.
I moved the skin up and down his shaft. It fit like a snug, well-formed glove, yet moved freely back and forth as though there were no fit at all. I became bolder and, reaching into the darkness of his bush, I scooped up his ample balls. They were an incredible velvet texture... tender... vulnerable... delicate.
The more I explored, the more rigid his love-hardened penis became. Soon it was rock hard and the bulbous head jutted out fiercely on all sides. For the first time in my life, I really wanted to look at it... close.
The thing that gave me such urges was the way his fingers were messing around with the feverish petals of my pussy. He hadn't gouged. He hadn't pushed. He just kept teasing around and teasing around until I was shaking all over... shuddering with anticipation and desire.
Then his finger began stabbing through my trembling outer folds into the wet love-flow. I tensed. My heart was pounding and the electric excitement of his caress ripped through my entire body. I didn't breathe. "Easy," he warned. His finger moved away and he rolled lightly over on top of me. His lips branded me with a searing kiss. The pressure of his thick cudgel against my tender pussy-lips held the ache of desire somewhat at bay.
"Are you on the pill?" he asked.
"No," I admitted. "They put one of those little twisty things up inside of me."
"Good," he said. "I'm a bit old for starting another family."
He lifted up his fanny enough to guide the hot, silky head of his organ into my quivering twat. The feel of it was so intense that I bucked violently, my body beyond all control.
"My God!" I gasped.
"Take a deep breath," he hissed. "It will pass."
It didn't pass. It finally let up enough that I could breathe but it never again let me relax.
He held there, with his knobby head butted in against me until I'd caught my breath. Then he slowly pushed in to the wet, delicately fluted love-nest.
"Ahhhh," I cried all the way home.
"It soothes the ache," he whispered.
"It's so good!" I gasped.
"You seem surprised?"
"Yes! Oh, yes! I've never felt anything like... Oh, God!"
The sensations overwhelmed me. One moment, I was excited. The next I was literally drowning in passion.
And I didn't feel ugly or gross! I didn't! Though my legs were all spread out the same way I had to do with Brian, there was a voluptuous quality... a lewd, deliberately sensualness that made me want to push out my thighs and squirm and snake about over the bed. I was Godiva... Eve... I was torrid and sensual and seductive.
He reached bottom and let it lay and all the way up my channel, the tendrils of flesh clung to him. When he drew away, my weeping pussy would scarcely let him go.
"Please," I begged. "Don't go off without me. This time I've got to make it, too."
"You will! My God, you will!"
His mouth crushed against my lips and I knew he was no quick-triggered boy. I'd been left too often. I'd become nervous and tense over something I could not control.
Now, I could relax. This one night, at least, I would not be left high and dry.
He rode high above me, with just the wet, thick head of him inside my shivering gates.
Teasingly, he stabbed it in and out, then plunged down for another long drive. "Oh! Mr. Donovan!"
He chuckled. "I think Brad would be better, under the circumstances," he suggested, "at least while we're screwing."
I never liked it when Brian called it that. Screwing... or fucking, either... it was all horribly nasty. Balling was better but I preferred to say making love or intercourse.
This night, I didn't care. He could have said anything and I'd have loved it. I was seductive... sexy... voluptuously beautiful and I could make a man say and do crazy things with my erotic gyrations.
"Brad!" I panted.
"That's better."
"Brad! Brad!"
In and out, slow and fast, hot and soooo cool. My God, the things that man could do and all I could do was to cry his name with every thrust.
I couldn't get close enough. I couldn't get enough of the feel of him. I couldn't... but I did!
The rhythm was frantic and wild, then it dissolved into a spasmodic, frenzied shudder. My body went rock hard and my back arced into a seizure of grand-mal passion. Digging in my heels, I lifted Brad and myself off the bed.
"Let it go!" he cried. "LET IT GO!"
He met my need with a hard, grinding motion and it lifted me higher and higher until I was there. Sucking in a great lungful of air, I felt myself burst through the tumultuous crest.
"AHHHHHHH!" I wailed.
Up and up, I seemed never to fall. My muscles knotted, choking and squeezing his wetly buried prod. I heard him groan and then I could feel his scalding cum shoot into that most private place of passion.
"EYIIIIIII!" he roared and it was a wonderful, violent cry that thrilled me to the core.
My ecstasy burst over me for a second, wondrous crest that was more and higher and wilder than anything I had ever known.
That night, I learned that sex could be a lot more than just sweet! That night I learned what the whole business was about.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When I woke up the next morning, Brad Donovan was gone. For a while, I had some pretty somber misgivings over what I'd done the night before... sort of a sexual hangover, I guess. It hadn't been any experiment with a machine to see if I was frigid. This was adultery, plain and simple.
I fretted over it for a few minutes but my body glowed with such a delicious contentment that I couldn't work up any fury over anything. I lay there, basking in a wonderful sense of well-being when Marci popped in to announce that my breakfast was getting cold. Her attitude was so completely at ease that I shrugged off any further misgivings and hopped out of bed. Skipping to catch up, I scampered down the hall after her.
"How do you feel?" Brad asked when we joined him.
"Wonderful," I admitted readily. "I feel like I should telephone Brian and confess every sordid moment... but I loved it. I'm afraid it would come out sounding more like an advertisement than an apology."
The Donovans beamed.
"You're coming along fine," Brad told me.
"Just don't tell your husband," scolded Marci. "I'll tell you why. Once he knows you have sampled the lovemaking of another man, he'll be unsure of himself and his manhood. Every man has to think he's a great lover."
"But he's a lousy lover," I blurted. "Compared to your husband, mine is terrible... not that I don't love him, you understand. He's still a doll but - in bed? Yuk!"
"Ah, but it would kill his ego to hear you say so," Marci scolded. "We can teach him the right way but it's got to be done slow and subtly. He must never know he's being taught."
"Can we? Really?" I asked with delight. "Oh gad, that would be great!"
"Tell me something, Candy. Did you have any dreams last night?" Marci teased.
I stammered a moment and my cheeks flushed. I didn't have to answer.
Marci grinned. "Did you dream of Brian? Or was it Brad?" she wanted to know. "Brian," I lied.
How could I tell them I'd dreamed of Terry, and my own little Dickey? I didn't even want to think about it, myself!
"I'll go have a talk with your young man," Marci promised. "Give me the phone number where he works and I'll see if I can meet him for lunch. I think it's better if I explain your job... or as much of it as he's ready to accept. You won't be around to get into any arguments and he won't be able to talk you out of anything. I gather by what you've told me, he has a good deal of influence over you."
"He's pretty dreamy when he wants to be," I admitted. "He's so big... and powerful... and he slops around like it wasn't anything to have such a great build. He's kind of little boyish in a way and yet he's real sexy if you know what I mean."
"Sounds fascinating," Marci laughed.
"You'll love him... I mean, you'd better not... I mean, he's mine, you know," I stammered, "but of course I wasn't hinting that you'd... I'm sorry."
They both chuckled at my confusion. How I hated making a fool of myself. I'd tried to make a joke and it had come out sounding like I was all jealous or something.
"There's a staff meeting this morning," Brad said. "I've got a lot to get done if we're going to leave as soon as it's over."
"Me too," his wife agreed. "Candy, would you mind picking up the dishes and checking on the sauce that's on the stove. I'm trying out a new recipe for the parties and it shouldn't boil more than a minute or two."
"Sure," I said eagerly. "Would you mind if I used the kitchen phone to call Brian while I'm doing the dishes?"
"Fine, but don't tell him anything," she warned. "You can say that I'll get in touch with him by phone before the week is out. Tell him you can go home after that. That should buoy up his spirits enough to keep him going... oh fiddle, tell him I'll call this morning."
"Marci, with the schedule we have lined out, the least you could... " her husband tried to warn.
"I'll get it done, dear," she promised. "Just don't worry over it."
I did the dishes and finished stirring the sauce until it had begun to boil. I called Brian but I scarcely had time to say "hello" before the doorbell rang.
"I'll call back later. My boss is going to call you today, too," I said. "See you!"
I hung up the phone and hurried to the front door. Sue and Jeff and Linda and Don all walked in together.
"What's the big announcement?" Jeff demanded.
"Yes, what gives?" Don wanted to know.
I shrugged. I'd never heard of anything special... except that I'd gotten through my first big party last night.
"How did it go?" Sue asked.
"I made two hundred dollars," I said, "but a joker insisted that I fit some ticklers on him right off the bat. After I got over the shock, I was fine."
Linda's laugh was hard. "There's one of them in every crowd," she observed. "Best way to handle them is to ask them to step outside, give them a quicky suck-off and poop them out so bad they can't say another word."
"I could never do that," I said.
"I'll bet!" she snorted.
That woman didn't like me. I could feel it in the very air she breathed. It was a relief when Brad walked in. At least she couldn't tear me apart with her cruel sarcasm.
"What's the big surprise?" Jeff demanded.
"Got a hot new product for you," Brad said easily. "You'll make three hundred commission on every sale and you ought to sell at least a couple at each party."
"Then I can't handle it," Jeff quipped. "It would put me into a prohibitive income tax bracket."
"Bullshit!" snorted Don.
"Don't get started on that income tax bit again," warned Sue. "Neither one of you are showing half what you earn, anyway."
"How do you know? Christ, I could... "
"Shut up, Jeff," she snorted playfully. "You aren't any purer than I am and I damn sure don't show it all."
"Is anyone interested in our new product?" Brad asked in a stern enough voice that the others all gave him their attention.
"What is it?" Linda asked quietly.
"Sex dogs," he announced.
"SEX WHAT?" Jeff hooted.
"You're out of your fucking skull!" blurted Don.
"Nooooo he isn't, baaaby," purred Linda. "Brad's being smart like a fox. If they're really well trained, they'll be worth a fortune to us. What kennel are you using, Brad?"
"You've seen them before then?" he asked.
"Honey, I've used them before and they're a ball!" she said. "There's nothing like it. I'll sell dogs for you any day if they're well trained. Just make sure their pricks stay in until I call for it. That's the main thing with a sex dog."
"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.
"You can get any dog to screw, honey," she explained. "Teaching them to keep your secret from the neighbors... there's the art."
"There's a lot more to a good sex dog than just that," Brad cut in. "Actually, there are twenty-seven different acts they can be trained to do. There are lots of breeds that can be used and they use both males and females, whatever the customer wants. You just hand out the cards with the tricks printed on them. They put little X's in the boxes, tally up the price for each trick plus the price of the dog and before you know it, they've placed an order."
"We don't take along a whole kennel then?" laughed Sue.
"No. We have a demonstrator dog for you to take along but he's not for sale," Brad explained.
"What breed is he?"
"A Bassett hound," Brad said. "They're generally the most popular."
"Why?" I asked, then everyone began talking at once. They all seemed to know more than I.
"Why? My God! Have you ever seen the way those studs are hung?"
"There are bigger dogs."
"They're too hard to handle and a lot of them don't have peckers to match their size. The Bassett is the only one with a big cock and short legs."
"I think they'd be awful," I said with a shudder.
Brad grinned. "Maybe you'd prefer a Chihuahua. Lots of little old ladies buy them but they only like to get tickled. It depends on what you want."
"When can we see the demonstrator?" Don asked.
"Right now," Brad promised. "Marci! Bring him in."
The door opened and his wife came in from the kitchen, a broad grin playing mischievously across her face. Behind her swung the lowest, biggest-eyed bassett I'd ever seen in my life. Even his ears drooped clear to the floor.
"Give me a hand, Jeff," Brad said.
Together, they lifted the animal onto the library table, where we could see his big thing. It was out of all proportion to the rest of his body. I couldn't believe how big his sac was. It hung half way to the floor and his peter hung down, too, even though none of the red showed. Instead of clinging to his belly, the way I thought they usually did, it drooped downward, pointing more toward his forepaws.
Brad soon explained. Pointing to the skin beneath the dog's belly, he showed us where an incision had been made.
"This lets the cock drop down enough to make it more maneuverable," he explained. "A woman can get it dog style from any dog but it can get clumsy when she has the dog perched on her belly. Any questions so far?"
I had a million but I didn't ask. Brad pulled the dog up alongside of him, reached over his side and laid his hand on the animal's organ. I shuddered with revulsion, yet I couldn't take my eyes away.
"The best way to sell the dog is to hold him like this and slowly pump him up while you're giving the pitch. Most of your customers won't hear a word you say, they'll be so busy watching his prick grow."
"Mmmmm, and doesn't it grow?" Linda observed.
Like the customers he was talking about, I didn't hear much that he said. I couldn't think or see anything but that slimy-looking, livid-colored organ. It sickened me, yet made me weak. It made me shudder with revulsion but I was also burning with sensual excitement. As the dog began humping his organ into the circle of Brad's finger, the palms of my hands grew clammy and I tightened them into nervous fists.
"I don't think I can touch it," Sue said with a squeamish curl to her upper lip.
"Now's the time to try," Brad coaxed. "If you can't, you can't."
Hesitantly, she got up from the divan and came forward. Flattening her hand up against the dog's stabbing prod, she let the searing flesh slide back and forth against the tips of her fingers.
"Can you do it?" he asked.
She was quiet for a moment and then she smiled. "Yes... sure. Here, let me pump him for a while."
"Can the customer's use him?" Jeff asked.
"Certainly," Brad said. "You can't let them all have a turn. Dogs can get worn out just like people but it's a great selling point to let a few of them get their cunts dogged. The best advertisement is a satisfied customer."
"Won't we look like queers when we jack him up?" Don asked.
"Hell, no," snorted his boss.
"How about the knob? Can any of the women get hung up on it?" he wanted to know.
"Only if she's taking it in the ass and can't get her muscles to relax."
"Can I use it tonight at the Wonderwall party?" Linda asked.
"Yes," Marci cut in. "There's only one rule about using the dog. He's not to be taken from the apartment until just before party time and he's to be returned to this apartment directly after the party is over."
"The trainer insisted on it," Brad agreed. "It's going to be rough enough on the dog having him screw total strangers. He has to have one home and one family or he'd get too confused."
"Fine," Linda agreed. "The party isn't scheduled until awfully late so I'll pick him up around eight tonight?"
Marci agreed. "We won't be here," she added. "We have to fly to New Orleans this morning and we won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. Candy will look after the dog for us, won't you, dear?"
Totally confused, I nodded my head.
"She doesn't have a party until tomorrow night so she'll be here when you pick up the dog and when you bring it back, too."
Until now, I hadn't heard a word about the proposed trip, though they'd certainly been bustling around getting ready for it. The thought of being left alone with the lewd monster gave me a cold chill.
"I'm afraid of him," I told them.
"Nonsense," Marci laughed. "He's a trained watch dog. Nobody will give you any trouble as long as old Buzz is around."
"Old Buzz?" I questioned.
She chuckled. "Yes and just wait until he gives you a buzz. You'll love it!"
I would not! My God! I kept quiet in front of the others but I was seething beneath the surface. Who did she think I was?
I promised Linda to have the animal ready for her at eight and soon they all left, except for the Donovans. Marci showed me how to feed Buzz his chlorophyll pills and how to powder his coat, along with the more mundane orders on animal care. Soon I was seeing them off in the taxi. I felt like I'd lost my last friend!
When I walked back into the living room, I thought they'd left a case but when I opened it up, I found it belonged to Jeff instead. I was so lost at that moment that it almost seemed like a friend.
I called Brian back. To my surprise, he told me that Marci had remembered to call. He had a lunch date with her for the day after tomorrow.
"Oh, Brian, then I can come home," I sobbed. "I want to come home so bad! I'm going to be warmer and more loving... I'll be the perfect wife as soon as they let me come home."
"They won't let you come home?" he shouted. "I knew something was sure as hell wrong! Those dirty sons-of... "
"No, Brian! It's not like that at all. Listen to me! They're training me. That's all."
"Training you for what?" he demanded.
"Why can't you tell me where you are? Why all the big mystery? I'm not waiting any longer, Candy. Where the hell are you?"
His anger thrilled me to the core.
"OH, BRIAN!" I wailed. "I LOVE YOU! Please trust me just a little bit longer. It'll only be a couple of days. Marci will explain every... "
"Marci?" he asked.
"Yes, Marci and Brad Donovan," I answered impatiently. "They're the people I'm staying with. Didn't she tell you?"
"Yeah... sure," he grumbled. "Damn! Well, there's nothing I can do, I guess. I'll give it two more days. Then, by God, you'd better come home."
"I will, Brian!" I promised. "It will be so wonderful... just like our honeymoon, only better."
He snorted. "What'dya mean? We never had a honeymoon."
By the time I hung up, the tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was really excited about going home. For the first time, it seemed real. I looked around the room and everything was colored with a rosy glow. I was going home and I was going to be sexy and I was really going to turn that Brian on!
It was only eleven o'clock in the morning but it seemed I'd lived through a dozen days since I got up. There was the glow from last night and the lewd, erotic stimulation of seeing an animal's thing played with and coaxed into a lust-hardened state. Above all there'd been the sound of my Brian's voice to put me into a voluptuous mood.
I glanced down and that Bassett was sitting there, staring up at me. With a shudder, I turned away. I was hot. I was warmly, deliciously aroused but certainly not for a dog. Lord, how I wished I could sneak off for just an hour with Brian. He might not be the greatest lover in the world but I was hot enough for him that I didn't care.
I was literally saved by the bell. At the first sound of the chimes, I glanced over at Jeff's case. Instinctively, I knew who was at the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was not Jeff standing there when I opened the door. It was the boy, Terry. I was too surprised to do anything but gape.
"Hi!" he said cheerily.
While I stood there, too paralyzed to move, he pranced on into the living room.
"What's the matter," he asked. "Aren't you glad to see me? Are you all right?"
"I don't know," I answered weakly and I did feel a peculiar numbness flood through me. "I certainly wasn't expecting you. "
"Who were you expecting?" he asked.
"Nobody," I scoffed. Slowly, I was beginning to regain control. "What are you doing here, Terry?"
"I was out biking around and thought I'd drop by," he said with elaborate casualness. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Would it matter if I did?" I asked.
He grinned sheepishly. "No," he said. "I guess not."
He was so cute! I could think of no other way to describe him. He was lean and small and he had an infectious grin and eyes that sparkled with mischief.
"I suppose you're hungry," I said. "Did you bike all the way from your house?"
"Yes, mommy," he answered impishly.
"Don't be smart," I scolded. "Well, you sound like her," he snorted. "She's always worrying that I'll go too far or get hungry or lost. Now you're acting afraid for me, too."
I wasn't afraid for him! I was afraid of him... and of myself. I'd already gone too far with him once. I didn't want anything more to happen.
"I wish you were my mommy," he teased. "Then I could get up early in the morning and sneak into bed with you."
"Terry," I warned.
"Did you ever have a baby to nurse?" he asked. "Nursing really turns a woman on. My mommy still lets me climb in and nurse her once in awhile."
"She doesn't!" I gasped.
Just the thought made my pussy pucker and its mouth began to water with an aching love-flow.
"Of course," he snorted. "Why do you think she wanted you to find a tickler that would fit me?"
"My God!" I groaned.
My knees wobbled weakly. I tried to shake myself out of it but it did little good. I started for the kitchen, changed my mind and turned toward the front door.
"You'd better go," I rasped. "Don't be like that, Candy," he coaxed. "You promised me something to eat. That's a long drive without some fuel to run on."
"All right!" I cried in despair. "I'll pour you a glass of milk and make you a sandwich. Then you've got to go."
I marched on into the kitchen. Thank heaven, he didn't follow. Furiously, I slapped two pieces of bread around a slice of baloney, then grabbed up the cheese, mayonnaise, and a couple of pickles.
He's going to do it! I thought miserably. He said he'd get into my pants and if I don't get him out of here in a couple of minutes, he'll manage to do it, somehow! Damn that little brat! Damn him!
My crotch was on fire. I could almost feel what it would be like to have his sweet little thing touching me there. I was shaking as I poured the milk and carried it into him.
He'd plopped down on the couch and made himself thoroughly at home.
"Hey! That's great," he said. "I really worked up an appetite. That's a longer ride than I figured."
"It'll be easier going home," I suggested. "It's mostly downhill from here."
He grinned impishly. "I hope so," he said. "You wouldn't have some catsup, would you? This sure would taste great with a little catsup."
Exasperated, I marched into the kitchen and returned with a partially filled bottle. It was nearly empty before he'd had his fill.
"Why are you mad, Candy?" he asked. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"I told you not to come," was my only defense.
"At least you could sit down while I eat," he said, glancing at the seat beside him on the couch. "It's not polite to stand over me like I'm going to mess on the furniture or something."
I hadn't dared sit down. I didn't want him to get the idea that he could hang around. When he stretched, it was even worse standing over him. I could see the outline of all I wanted.
"Will you leave as soon as you've eaten?" I asked.
"If you want me to," he agreed.
Gingerly, I sat down and took the bottle of catsup from him so he could eat.
"I'm sorry I got you upset," he said. "I didn't mean to. I was sort of hoping you still liked me. I've been thinking about you every minute since you left our house."
"That's very flattering, Terry, but I'm much too old for you," I told him.
"You could play my mommy," he suggested with a grin.
"Don't start that again," I scolded. "It wouldn't be right considering your age and my husband and all."
He turned away from me for a moment and I didn't notice that he'd laid his plate and glass on the end table until it was too late. When he turned back to face me, his hands were free to move and mine, holding the catsup, were not!
"Please," he begged as he lunged at me. "Just hold me next to you for a minute. Then I promise I'll go!"
His arms were around me before the question was half out. He clung to me like a hurt child. His legs, however, were asking for more as he tried to scramble over on top of me.
"Terry!" I cried, "Don't! For God's sake, stop it!"
Once he was on top of me, his hands went to work, worming their way in against my bare breasts. Though he was a head shorter than me and a dozen pounds lighter, he burrowed in like a determined badger and I couldn't push him away. In a moment, one hand had worked up under my blouse to slide in against my bare, vulnerable breast.
"Terry! You promised! Please!" I wailed. "Where can I put this damn catsup?"
"Get my pecker out," he begged hoarsely. "Play with it the way you did the other night!"
"Oh God," I moaned. "I knew this was going to happen."
And it was! All the tension and fight was giving away to weakness as the sensual glow of his touch flooded through me. My will wanted him a thousand miles away but my body wanted him now!
"Candy," he pleaded. "Take it out and lay it between your legs. I want to feel it in your pussy."
"Terry," I whimpered.
His fingers twirled my nipples as he pushed my clothes aside. Soon his lips were moving in.
He's going to nurse me, I thought frantically. He's going to do it, just the way he said.
I was powerless to stop him. I couldn't even make myself want to.
"Take it out," he urged again.
His lips hovered against my nipples, brushing back and forth until I was almost crazy to feel more of him. They were little-boy lips and when they had finished nuzzling around, they opened up and sucked me in.
He twisted around then to sort of curl up in my lap. Cradling his head in my arm, I stretched out across the divan to set the catsup bottle on the end table.
"Mmmmm," he purred as he felt my pliant body twisting beneath him. I could easily have laid us both down at that point but I didn't. I struggled to right myself instead. Was it so that I should sit up and fight this thing that was happening? No! All I wanted was to get up where I could see!
He was sucking me soooooooo sexy! It wasn't jerking and hard groveling like men are when they do it but gentle and snug like a baby. I had to lift my blouse up so I could see because it felt so good.
His eyes were closed and his fingers grazed back and forth over my spongy breast-flesh. Watching him suck made me tremble with excitement and soon I was tensely anxious for more. My hand slid down between his legs and even through his jeans, I could feel the hard outline of his precious organ. Cupping my hand around it all, I gave it a loving squeeze.
"Mmmmmmmmmm," he purred.
Right away, he spread his legs like a flaked-out frog and he rolled his lump of goodies forward, pushing them up into my hand. I played with him only a few moments before I unhooked his waistband and ran his zipper down. When I reached inside his pants, my hand found itself buried in his warm, fleshy nest. That sex-hungry little brat hadn't worn any shorts!
It was warm and moist and snug there in his crotch. I found his pecker prodding my palm and I held it, gingerly poised, between the tips of my fingers. For a few minutes, I worked the skin up and down, enjoying the many different feelings his little wienie raised in me. Then I moved below to search out the incredibly fragile sac that held his sweet nuts. It was so good, just holding the moist, satiny flesh that my emotions threatened to explode.
"Ohhhh, guy, that's good," he whispered.
"Hush," I scolded for when he talked, he couldn't suck.
The sigh that followed was half a moan and I found that I was moaning along with him. For warm wondrous minutes, he nursed at my breast while I toyed and loved his boyhood flesh. It was a perfect exchange.
"Candy?" he said at last. "Take me in your room where you can undress me."
"Yes!"
Instantly, it was what I wanted. I pulled my hand out of his fly and he let my blouse drop back over my breast. Hurriedly, I got up and headed for the hall.
Terry danced on out in front of me, literally spinning as he moved. I had to call him back when he passed my door. Then he bounced in and threw himself on my bed.
"Why don't you undress first?" he teased. "Then I can play with your titties while you do me.
"I-I can't," I stammered. "I hate to undress in front of anyone."
"Oh, bull!" he snorted. "And you wonder why my mother lets me have sex! Psychologists will tell you...
"Terry," I groaned. "I don't care what the psychologists say. Just let me undress you, like you promised. Please?"
He grinned impishly but he stretched out where I could get at him. Sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him, I began unbuttoning his shirt. With one hand, that sneaky little devil managed to unbutton me first.
I didn't even notice, I was so anxious to get his clothes off. He sat up so I could pull away his shirt and then he tugged at my blouse until I was so impatient to get on with it that I shrugged it off. I turned around to work his pants and shorts down over his thighs and this time, he had my brassiere unhooked in an instant!
"Terry!" I scolded, but his little-boy hands moved in to weigh and cup both breasts. I felt a wave of sensuality flood through me and I was too weak to argue.
My hand snuck back inside his pants to the flesh I needed to feel. For a few moments, I was too overwhelmed to move. The excitement poured in, paralyzing me until I couldn't breathe!
I was leaning forward. Cupping both breasts in his hands, he rubbed them lightly together as I clung to his fragile equipment. I wanted to see his rigid weiner-sized pole again and I had never seen his satiny balls. One more shove on his jeans was all that was needed, yet I was too wildly aroused to make the move.
"Now, all I've got to get to is your pussy," Terry purred. "You know, I haven't even gotten my hands on it, yet."
The ache in that very place told me that nothing but desire had touched me for too long. My puffy lips were trembling and hard, swollen with my glowing need. When his hand slid under my skirt and quickly brushed up over the crotch of my panties, I actually jumped, the shock was so intense.
"Oh, Lord!" I gasped.
"Get my pants off, Candy," he begged.
Anxious now, I pushed his stiff, tight trousers down over his sweating legs. I was shaking by this time and I fumbled every move until the boy finally pushed me away and finished the job himself. I no longer cared how my actions might look. I lunged down to cup the treasures that so aroused me.
"Yours!" he cried bitterly. "You haven't got yours off!"
"I will," I stalled. "Just let me hold you a minute. I want to look at it."
His fingers could wait no longer. Working over to the edge of my inner thigh, he dipped in under the crotch of my panties and I felt his boyish fingers against my searing, naked flesh.
"OHHHHHHH!" I wailed, "OH TERRY! MY GOD!"
The boy jumped away from me then and ordered me to lay down. Curiously, I did as he directed, responding to him as though he was a grown man. He sat on his haunches by my shoulder until I was stretched out on my back. Then, leaning over me, he unhooked my skirt and pushed it down to where I could kick it free.
As he began sliding my panties down over my taut belly, his hands paused often to graze across the bare flesh. I looked up and saw his own treasure hanging down before me like a bunch of fresh grapes. I reached up and touched it with both hands.
He pushed my panties down to my crotch, then reached in with two fingers to pull the material away from my weeping love-nest. He paused, rubbed around a little, and moved on. In that instant that his fingers were in me, I had a crazy urge to throw my arms around his ass and suck his pecker into my burning mouth.
I had never had such an urge in my life and it was a relief when Terry suddenly squirmed on down to the foot of the bed. With a couple of quick jerks, he pulled down my pants and began kneeing his way in between my legs.
"Can I fuck you, Candy?" he begged. "Can I put it inside and wallow it around?"
If he didn't get it in soon, it would be too late. Quickly, I reached down to give him a hand.
"Let me," I whispered hoarsely. "There... right there. Oh, Terry! Doesn't that feel good?"
"Shit! Oh, damn!" he groaned. "You're tighter than anyone... tighter than any woman.
Guy! I hope I don't pop off and... HEY! Don't move like that! Oh, Candy, that's so fucking good!"
His body was so small. I could wrap my legs tight around him and really pull him in.
"Don't leave me," I pleaded.
"It's okay," he raped. "If I go too soon, I'll get you there with my mouth. I'd like licking your candy, anyway... Oh, damn! Don't rub it in like that. It's toooooo good!"
Every time Brian hinted he'd like to kiss my pussy, the idea alone would instantly turn me to ice. Now, it only added fuel to the fire, carrying with it a special erotic appeal. I was sure that I'd never have the nerve to actually do it but I'd not turned cold at the suggestion and I'd felt a moment's urge to do it, even, for him!
His half-grown prod poled in and out of my quaking tunnel. While his mouth sucked hotly at my breast, his amazing little pecker filled my belly and satisfied my soul with its furious attack. In moments, I was at the brink.
"Terry!" I cried. "Oh, my baby!"
He stabbed quickly in and out of me, frictioning out a rush of electric sensations. Then, together, we shuddered into the last frenzied thrust.
"Now!" he yelped. "I can't hold it another... "
"GO!" I wailed. "EYIIIIIIIII!"
I felt his saber-hard shaft give a violent jerk and then his hot, thick serum flooded into my searing depths. With tumultous excitement, my senses shot skyward, passed through an explosive crest and began to soar... long... graceful and warm.
"AHHHHHHHHHH," I sighed.
The tensions flooded from my limbs and then every ounce of my being began to glow.
"Terry! Oh, Terry," I breathed. "I wish it could have lasted forever."
"Fix me another sandwich and maybe it will," he suggested with reasoning only a boy could understand.
CHAPTER NINE
I was glad he wanted to stay. I wasn't too hep on running around the apartment bare naked but even that was kind of fun, once I got used to the idea.
It was funny how easy things came when I was around him. I could relax more... sort of let myself go around a boy the way I never could around a man. When he playfully slapped two pieces of bread around my titty and called it a sandwich, I stood there and let him try to take a bite. I had the feeling that through him, I could overcome all of my inhibitions.
Everything was going just great until old Buzz began scratching at the door. I'd locked him into the storage room off the kitchen when Terry first rang the bell. Thinking it was Jeff returning, I didn't want the dog around to get in the way. When it turned out to be Terry, I left the animal where it was, since the principle applied double with the boy. When the dog scratched at the door, Terry reached over and opened it without giving the matter a thought.
"Hey!" I yelped but it was too late.
"What's this?" he asked. "Well! How about you, fella? You are something else."
Buzz came out all eyes and wiggles. His tail was wagging up a storm. Naturally, he started sniffing for Terry's scent and without any clothes on, Terry was getting a lot of cold nose.
"Put him back," I said angrily. "You shouldn't have let him out."
"Why not?" the boy wanted to know.
"He's a sex dog," I said grimly. "The Donovans are going to sell them. I think he's awful!"
"Have you tried him?" he asked. "Guy! Wouldn't that be swinging?"
I shuddered. "I couldn't stand it. Terry, please?"
He looked at me for a few moments and then slowly shook his head, daring me to force the issue. With a grin, he leaned down and gave the dog a pat.
"No," he said. "I want to see how he acts when we have sex. I want to see if it turns him on."
"Please, Terry. I wanted you to... "
"To what?"
"There's something I want you to try to do... to let me do... I've never been able to, before. I thought, maybe with you... maybe, I could."
"What?" he demanded. "Guy, you got to tell me what you want. Hey, it really bothers you to talk about things, doesn't it? You're sure in the wrong business."
"I was hoping the business... even you could help me get over it. Please, Terry, put the dog away so we can talk."
He looked at the dog and then he looked at me. "If you want to get over your hang-ups, let him come," he suggested. "I can always lock him in the bathroom if he bothers you. Now, what is it that you want to do?"
"Not now. I can't talk about it until I'm hot."
He snickered. "You want to kiss my pecker, right?" he teased.
"Yes."
"And you'd like me to eat a little pussy, too, wouldn't you?" he laughed. "I was going to anyway but it's nice to know you care. Come on, Candy. Let Buzz come along. I just want to feel him up a little. It won't hurt you any, will it?"
"You won't make him put his thing in me?" I asked.
"Promise," he said. "Come on, let's play around a little first. Do they have any indoor pools or sunken baths or... "
"I'll give you a shower if you like," I suggested.
"Great," he said with enthusiasm. "Shall we see if old Buzz likes them, too?"
I shrugged off an answer and headed down the hall. What I felt toward that dog was almost like jealousy so long as Terry was around. Then there was a fear building up inside of me. What if I liked it, too? Where was a person supposed to stop? After I got rid of every inhibition, then what?
I pondered these things as I adjusted the shower spray. Then I looked out and saw Terry sitting on the floor, slowly pumping the dog's thing.
"How can you stand to touch it?" I asked. "Come here and feel," he teased. "No thanks."
"Nobody will see us, Candy," he argued. "This is your one chance to know what it feels like."
"It's not fair to the dog," I argued. "You can't keep pumping him up and leaving him. That's what the Donovans do and it's cruel."
"They don't leave him," he laughed. "I'll bet he pops off ten minutes later in Marci Donovan's cunt."
"Terry!"
"I mean it," he said. "Her hole is so big, I can turn around and go in sideways. It takes a real joker to tickle her any more."
I started to ask how he could know such a thing but realized the question was pretty stupid. As he worked over the dog, his own fingering began to swell. My curiosity suddenly grew.
I sat down on the floor, on the other side of the animal. Reaching under him, I let my hand rest on Terry's a few minutes before I tried to touch it myself.
Back and forth, back and forth in a slow, easy rhythm. My hand traveled along under Terry's hand until he moved away. Then my fingers touched the animal's flesh.
I waited. I did not shudder and I was not repulsed. Grabbing onto it, I took up the rhythm that Terry had set. It was then that I realized it was nothing! I was surprisingly and totally unmoved.
"Isn't that wild?" he panted.
"No!" I laughed giddily. I was grinning all over. "Really, it isn't! I don't feel a thing. I'd much rather be touching you."
It was such a relief that I started to laugh. I don't know what I'd expected but it certainly wasn't this. To touch a boy had brought about an incurable, compulsive fever, one so strong that I couldn't fight. To touch the dog was nothing... nothing exciting at all!
I got to my feet and stepped into the shower. Quickly, I washed my hands, wanting no part of the animal left on me. I looked back and saw that the animal's rump was beginning to hump in as he jabbed his prick into Terry's hand. Terry's eyes were immense. What had left me cold was really turning him on. He probably hadn't fooled much with guys, I decided. Maybe this filled some kind of a need.
Patiently, I waited for the boy to jack that animal off. I watched and it was exciting because they were so turned on but that was the only reason. Toward the end, I saw Terry stick his fingers up the dog's ass and if the dog hadn't started to come, I think Terry'd have stuck his pecker in, too. As it was, the animal rammed his bowel back against the boy's fist once, then quickly frictioned off his load onto the floor.
There was a lot of cum. That got me pretty excited, seeing the way it shot out in long, thick streams. That dog had a lot of power in his nozzle. Later I cleaned some off the wall several feet away.
"Oh, God, I'm hot!" whimpered Terry as he raced for the shower. "I'm so fucking hot!"
I greeted him eagerly, sudsing his straight little body and holding his aching genitals tightly cupped in my hand. His body twisted about as he worked to rub his concern in against me. Whatever I was giving, it was not enough.
"Help me," he pleaded. "Candy, do something!... Anything!"
I couldn't do it there. I couldn't spoil what I'd had the urge to do for so long. Without turning off the water, I led him out of the shower and into my bedroom.
"Stretch out on the rug," I ordered. "I'm going to kiss you... there."
He flopped down onto the carpet and I dropped down beside him.
"I hate to rush it," I whined.
He had such a beautiful gut-stick. I remember hearing my daddy call it that but I'd never seen one that got stiff like a stick then.
It was fully boned now! It stood at such rigid attention that it fairly shuddered at every touch. It was the width of a weinie and, though not as long, it was long enough to get there. Perhaps the smallness attracted me because it seemed less lethal and threatening. I don't know. It was certainly more tender, more vulnerable-looking than any bit of flesh I'd ever seen.
I'd worried that I might not be able to do what I wished when the time came. I was afraid I might hold back or shudder with sudden revulsion.
"Do it," he begged.
I did it but I would not be hurried. I looked at him... close... for a long time. Then I brushed my lips back - and forth over that precious, silky flesh until I could stand it no longer. My tongue lightly probed his eye as my mouth pressed against the tip of his staff. Then my lips parted and I slowly sucked him in.
It was so good that I took him all, clear to the base and then I began sucking his fancy work slow and easy, the way he'd done it to my tit... the way I wanted it in the weeping, silk-fringed depths of my love-nest.
I didn't expect it to come so fast. I gasped - with surprise that first instant when Terry's cum shot into my mouth. There was an instant of panic and then I fell to work with my whole heart!
I drank in the thick white gravy, swallowing it without misgivings. Eagerly, I worked to bring out all that he had. When his body went limp, it was disappointing to have to stop.
I lay there, with my face resting on his belly and I wished I could take that shrinking pecker back into my mouth. Just looking at it made me ache.
"Terry?" I whispered. "Yeah?"
"Would it hurt you if I held it in my mouth now... while it's soft?"
"Go ahead," he said weakly. "Maybe it'll get me jacked-up faster. You like it like that... soft, I mean?"
"Mmmm-hmmmm," I purred for I'd already sucked it in.
Now that it was little, it was no longer than my middle finger and about the same width. I could hold it easily, wallowing it around in my mouth. I loved the rubbery texture. I got to thinking how I could stuff his balls in, too. I didn't ask. I just went ahead and did it.
"Mmmmm, that's good," he said. "That'll get the starch back into it fast! Man, you act like nobody ever let you suck them before, the way you go at it."
I forced myself to back away. "I had to a couple of times," I admitted. "It always made me gag. Now, I can't seem to get enough. Could you open your legs a little more? I'd like to suck your balls for a while."
Terry hopped up.
"I want to watch," he said.
Prancing into the bathroom, he perched up on the vanity cabinet and spread his legs.
"Now do it," he ordered.
I had to get on my knees to do it and I think the little brat liked it like that. He folded his arms like some potentate and watched in one of the full-length mirrors. After a minute or two, though the feel of him drove me wild, I'd had enough of being his slave.
"Thank you," I said.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Yes," I said easily. "Now, why don't you help me get this flaked-out dog back to the storage room? I'd hate to have him get anxious while my back was turned."
Terry laughed but he came along. He'd had his fun with the dog and now he seemed content to let the subject drop. Buzz was too big to carry and too lazy to walk. We really had to coax to get him to move at all.
"Give him a whiff of your pussy," Terry teased. "That ought to get his motor running."
"Not me," I countered. "I wouldn't want to get it dirty for you."
Was that me? It seemed impossible. I skipped on ahead of Terry and the dog. I was positively giddy, my spirit felt so free. Once we got the animal back in the storage room, I slammed the door shut, leaned against it, and came down with a violent case of the giggles. The more I laughed, the more Terry teased until he was poking and tickling me all over. Gasping for air, I broke and raced for the living room.
He caught me by jumping over the couch. We landed on the floor, laughing and panting for air. That was the very first time that Terry ever kissed me. It was sweet and young and beautiful.
"I was afraid to before," he said. "I was afraid you'd laugh."
I couldn't laugh after that. Instead, a need that had been laying in wait now quickly burst through. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, my breasts and I was burning for it all.
I was afraid he was putting on. I didn't see how he could get excited after the way he'd just buzzed off. Stealthily, I reached for his peter and found it hot and rigid. I'd done that to him, I thought happily and when his kisses worked below my breast, I relaxed and let the feelings flow. He was on his way. He was going to kiss my pussy and I wanted it terribly!
I could feel my pulse, down in that hard little inner nubbin. It was throbbing with anticipation. My fringed lips were puffy and swollen with need. My entire groin seemed to arch upward, rolling anxiously forward to meet the boy with the soft, sensual lips.
He reached my belly and, resting his palm on my mound, he brushed his lips over every inch of my stomach until I was jumping with excitement. Then he moved into the bush, lathing my fur until it was matted with his saliva. His lips picked up small tufts of hair and pulled them gently upward until my flesh rippled with waves of excitement.
"TERRYYYYYYYYY!" I cried.
His warm young mouth reached my lips and my love-flow literally gushed! I reached for his head, running my fingers through his curly hair and pushing him... urging him on.
I could feel my heels digging in... lifting... anxious. He kissed my love-lips. He licked me and then... then I was shaken to the core when his tongue stealthily slipped between my furred folds and invaded the churning inner cauldron.
"OHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed.
I didn't get my pussy kissed for long. He'd hardly started when I found myself hurtling toward the end. When I cried out, he quickly jumped away.
"You got to cool," he said.
"It's too late."
"You can try. Take a deep breath and... "
"Terry! It's too late!"
He stared at me for just an instant. "Then you got to take me, too!" he cried.
He flopped down beside me and pulled me to face him. As his mouth burrowed into my nest, he opened up his legs and I found his rigid little pecker only inches away. Eagerly, I opened my mouth and took it in.
"Easy," he pleaded. "Take it as slow as you can." .
I took a deep breath and tried. I could see where it would be heaven... another time. For now, I was too excited. It was too new. He was too young... and tender... and good!
I spread my legs to let him work in deep and then I understood why they say "eat" the pussy. Before it was over, I was rubbing it in for all I was worth.
And siphoning Terry's prod! Wow! I stripped him like crazy!
It wasn't nice. None of it was ladylike. I didn't care. It was hot and wild and I wanted to feel it all.
Then, suddenly, I was feeling it all. The flood burst over me and I crashed on through.
"Mmmmmmmm!" I groaned for my mouth was full of spurting, thick white gravy.
"Ahhhhhhh," moaned Terry, his tongue and lips still buried deep in my throbbing groove.
"Well! You two look like you're having fun," Linda said. "Don't let me stop anything. I just came by for the dog and the door was open."
I lay there, too shocked to say a word.
"He's in the room off the kitchen," Terry told ber.
"Thanks, love," she answered. With a cat-ate-the-canary smile, she sidled out of the room. If I'd only had a hole big enough, I'd gladly have crawled inside.
CHAPTER TEN
If the Donovans hadn't come home early, I think I would have been gone. Everything was piling up until I was ready to run. I sent Terry home as soon as Linda left but the smirk on her face when she returned with the dog later was more than I could take.
"Here's old Buzz, ready to keep you cozy for the night," she teased as she handed over the leash.
"No thanks," I snapped. "I don't like dogs."
"Oh? Then you've tried him out?"
"No, dear," I snipped right back. "I didn't have to. I'm still young enough to get a man."
"And boys, too, I see," she cooed. "How nice."
"Terry and I had a little unfinished business left over from his mother's party," I told her evenly. "Frankly, it was none of your business and you were rude to interrupt."
I felt better for it! My candid answer surprised her, too, for her eyebrows flew upward and then she laughed.
"I dig that boy, myself," she admitted. "You sure had me fooled though, Candy. With that dumb blonde attitude you have, I figured you'd be the kind to play the innocent even while you were getting screwed. I can't stand people who are two-faced about sex. Know what I mean? If you like it, have guts enough to admit it... that's what I always say."
"I've learned a lot here," I told her. "I was as dumb as you thought when you first met me but I wasn't screwing anybody but my husband. Even there, it wasn't a pleasure ride. A week ago, I couldn't have stood here and talked to you about it, Linda. I've come that far. I just want to keep it this way... keep from going too far."
"Bullshit," she scoffed. "Nobody could want to stay dumb."
Then I didn't like her again. That hard shell went back around her and she was cold as steel.
After she left, I went straight to bed but I couldn't sleep. All night long I could think of nothing but Brian and getting back to him. That's where I belonged. I certainly didn't belong here. It was sometime after sunup that I decided to leave.
I'll just write them a note, I thought.
I got up and showered. I put on one of the dresses that Marci had given me. It was my favorite. Then I brushed my hair until it shone. I was finishing up the note when they walked in.
"You're early!" I exclaimed. "I was writing you a letter."
"Why?" Brad demanded.
The broad smile left his face in an instant. His brows furrowed into a scowl.
"I've decided I should go home," I said. "You've both been so wonderful to me but it's time I was getting back to my husband."
"Just like that?" he demanded. "You're just going to pick up and sneak away."
I was horrified that he could have misunderstood.
"I wasn't running anywhere," I told him. "See, I wrote down the address of our apartment."
"So we could send you your pay!" he snapped. "Fat chance I'd give it to you. Working you into a deal like this costs money and it takes time. You can't take and then walk away without paying us back!"
"I didn't mean to... " I wailed.
"Calm down, Candy," Marci cut in. "What happened while we were gone? I've never seen you so upset. Have you been talking to your husband on the phone?"
"No," I sobbed.
"Then it must have been the dog. Did you try him out and then...?"
"NO!" I wailed. "I can't stand him."
"Well, something certainly happened," she said. "I don't think you should make any moves when you're this upset. Come to your room now. I'll give you one of my sleeping pills. When you wake up you'll feel more like talking about it."
"I don't want... all right! Terry came over. I just can't seem to say no to him. Linda walked in on us and... and... I HATE HER!"
I started to bawl then. Marci took me in her arms and Brad even reached over and gave me a pat on the back.
"Did she bring the dog back?" Marci asked.
"Yes, he's in the storage room. I've kept him there ever since you left, except when Terry let him out. I put him back in as soon as I could. He makes me sick."
In a sneering tone, Brad said, "That's too bad about you, isn't it? You better rip that note up and forget it. Marci had you scheduled to go home in a couple more days but I'm not so damn sure that it's a good idea, now."
"I've promised him!" I insisted. "I haven't done anything wrong. Oh, please don't ask me to stay away from him any longer."
"Let's wait and see," Marci said gently. "I'm to meet your Brian tomorrow. I should know by then."
"Know what?"
"How well you're doing. It's a matter of motivation, Candy," she said. "You have a party tonight. Let's wait and see how well you handle it."
I tried to ask them how they wanted me to handle it but neither of them had much to say. I gathered they wanted me to act dumb but mingle more with the guests somehow. They seemed disappointed that I had not tried out the dog. Though they were pleasant enough, they seemed a little cool.
I called Brian but I bawled so much that we didn't get much said. Having Marci standing around through it all didn't help any. By evening, I was a nervous, frustrated wreck! Marci gave me one of her tranquilizers before we left. It was beginning to take effect when she led Buzz out, all leashed and ready to go.
"You're not taking him!" I cried.
"Certainly," she said. "Why not?"
"Because it's my party," I argued. "Brad said we didn't have to show him if we didn't want to."
She gave me a withering glance. "He's changed his mind," was all she would say.
The party I was to give was smaller than the last. There were only a dozen people for dinner and, thank heaven, no children. By the time I'd served the meal and was ready to go into my pitch, I was feeling a lot better. I got through the Eternityware speech and zipped on into the Happy Time Party spiel. They laughed at my jokes and didn't mess me up with too many questions. When I finished selling the first two lines, I suggested that we move back into the living room where they could enjoy the final demonstration more comfortably.
In the back of my head, an idea had begun to form. Marci wasn't going to like it but if I sprung it right, she could hardly refuse. I intended to show everything in the case and then turn the party over to her for the presentation of the dog. The least she could do was refuse and, if I got lucky, she might even take it as a compliment. It was worth a try.
I wanted desperately to show Marci that I was well-motivated for everything but the dog. If I could have the money and the job and Brian, it was worth taking their guff a little longer, so long as they didn't force me to sell the dogs. If I tried my hardest tonight and they put me off, I would know there was no use trying to go on.
It's impossible to show all of the dildoes and vibrators and things without becoming emotionally involved. My pussy started twitching the moment I picked up the case. When I showed the ticklers and nobody offered to model them, I even asked for a volunteer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Marci's surprise. Encouraged, I charged ahead. Pulling out a cordless vibrator, I hooked on the long, vaginal-shaped cup and hooked it onto the machine. Giving them a running banter of nonsense, I walked over to where the host stood leaning against the wall.
"You wouldn't mind helping me out, would you?" I asked.
Before he could answer, I had him unzipped. I reached in and scooped out a flaccid, very-average cock.
"We call this our beautifier," I announced. "It can literally perform miracles."
I held him in my hand, snuggling him warmly and sliding his foreskin so slowly that the audiences scarcely noticed.
"Take this sad, fat worm, for instance," I went on. "To look at it, none of you would suspect that it could be Mr. America... even Superpecker, in disguise."
The guests were hooting and everyone was laughing at every word. No one was more surprised by it all than Marci, whose mouth gaped open while her eyeballs bulged.
When I was a teenager, I used to imitate a certain used-car salesman that was on television every night. All of my friends played the game but I got so good at impersonating him that it was easy to carry on a running banter about nothing for five or six minutes without faltering once. It was this training that I made use of this night and it was going well.
I stuffed my host's growing prod into the cup and turned on the vibrator as I talked. When he reached over and tried to slide his hand down the front of my dress, I sidestepped but never broke the pace of my speil.
"That is not a part of the merchandise and would not be available in attachment form," I quipped. "However, we are coming out with a larger, stationary unit next fall that will come in the shape of a woman. I understand that she will be equipped with all of the accessories which are normally considered extras in past models." I couldn't believe how quickly Marci had recovered. The next time I glanced her way, she was scribbling on a small pad, furiously taking notes.
"AHHHHHHH!" groaned the host.
"Speak up, sir," I said sweetly. I lifted a pretend microphone to his lips and went on. "Are you telling me that if I offered you two of another brand, you would prefer the one you have? Isn't that a fine testimonial, folks?"
"OHHHHHHHH, SHIT!" he wailed.
"Give him a big hand, ladies and gentlemen," I coaxed. "Show him you appreciate all the effort he's putting into this thing on your behalf!"
"YEYIIIIIIIIII!"
As he slumped back against the wall, the crowd roared and then they did give him a hand that was stupendous. He bowed weakly and moved over to collapse in a nearby chair.
It was the last item I had to demonstrate and the perfect way to close.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen," I said grandly. "We have one last attraction that is so stupendous that we have brought in the star of our organization to demonstrate it for you. You all know Marci Donovan. She's going to give you a real treat."
I swept my arm in her direction and then quickly took a chair. She was left sitting there with her pen and pad still poised in her hand.
"Well!" she laughed as she realized that every eye was on her. "I'm afraid your little hostess has turned chicken. Now, what do we do?"
She laid down the pad and pen and got to her feet. With a warm smile she moved into the center of the room. No one but me guessed how angry she was. "First of all, I think we should give Candy a round of applause for her wild performance so far. I don't know where she picked up that running dialogue of hers but it was certainly fun!"
Everyone applauded. She waited until it was quiet before she went on.
"Our young lady is a little squeamish about showing the new line but you're all such great folks. With your help... and mine... I'm sure she can get through it."
She began clapping and the rest of them fell in. There was nothing to do but return and get it over with. I was thinking about going home, too. I had one thing going for me that Marci didn't know about. I knew I could touch that dog... even pump him up without getting upset. I knew I wouldn't go to pieces and I knew I wouldn't get turned on. She was insisting that I go through with it. If I had to do it, I'd better do a good job. Then she would have to agree that my attitude and motivation were tops!
"Come on, Buzz," I called, as I pushed open the kitchen door. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is our demonstrator. He may look like a plain old dog to you but he's known as Supersex at our house."
The OHHHHS and AHHHHHHS built to a crescendo as the dog lumbered in. Their comments came thick and fast.
"I've always wondered about them."
"I had a friend who tried one once. She said it was wild."
"Can both men and women use one dog or do you have to have two?"
"Look at the size of him... I never realized how big a dog was before."
"Ho! Wait until he's pumped up! I'll bet he's twice that size then."
"Wouldn't it hurt if they missed? They're pointed on the end, aren't they?"
"No, it just looks like that from the side. It's more shovel-shaped."
"Spade-shaped, dear... shovels come in a lot of sizes."
"Whatever. When you watch them on the street, they're always so fast. Can they be trained to slow down?"
On and on it went. I laid a paper out on the coffee table so that Buzz's claws wouldn't scratch anything. Marci helped me hoist him up.
"You couldn't have gotten something a little more portable, like a Pekinese, maybe," I quipped.
Marci grinned but I couldn't tell whether or not she was still mad. She was the kind that would never say anything as long as there was a customer around.
Once I got the dog standing right, I reached around him, pretended to hesitate for a moment and then strained a little as I forced myself to grab his prod. Taking a deep breath, I began to pump the sheath slowly back and forth over his growing shaft.
"For those that are fond of dogs," I said, "Buzz can be a man's best friend and his wife's home companion as well."
My audience became very quiet and, as Brad had warned, they weren't hearing a word. Only Marci and I were still operating on any sort of mental level. She didn't say anything until I had the animal all pumped up. Then she stepped in and announced that I'd demonstrate how great he could really be.
"Starting with a cold nose, working its way inside her panties, Buzz will show you how heavenly... "
"No," I said quietly. "Don't ask me, Marci."
She turned and glared at me, then painted the smile back across her face.
"Candy's a little shy about demonstrating publicly," she purred. "Let's encourage her____"
"No!" I shouted. "You can't make me do a thing like that. I won't!"
Marci's smile chilled and her face grew icy pale. Slowly her lip curled down into a sneer. Reaching into her purse, she scrounged around the bottom for a moment and came up with a small purse vibrator.
"This is for you," she said, sweetly. Then she smiled at the crowd. "Candy is too much of a lady to have sex with a dog," she said sarcastically. "Of course, if any of you have any small children, watch out. Little Candy prefers the tender stuff."
I backed away, sick with shock. That wonderful, understanding woman had changed so completely in a few short moments that she didn't even look the same! She was sick! Evil! She might have more polish than Linda but her dual personality was far more dangerous. Marci Donovan was no person to have for an enemy.
"Bring her back in here, will you, Bill?" she called after I rushed from the room.
All this time, her voice was just as nicey-nice as you please.
"She's not going anyplace. She must learn to mind. I won't put up with discipline problems!"
Bill stopped me in the hall but nobody else moved a hair. He didn't push me back in to face her.
Someone finally asked, "Why pick on her? I don't think I'd get a kick out of doing it with a dog, either."
"Do you do it with kids?" Marci countered with a bland, simpering smile.
"That's none of your business, lady," she was told.
"Take it easy," someone cautioned. "Let's not blow this thing up out of all proportion."
The argument raged. I was nothing but a mute bystander. They wouldn't let me leave, yet no one seemed to want me to stay. I stood there.
Marci had taken over the dog by this time and it was a revelation to watch her handle him. All the time she was talking her fingers were absently, yet compulsively, massaging the tip of that animal's organ. Her defensive concern for the animal was almost violent and I realized that she must have those same impossible feelings that I get when I'm around a child.
It was my hostess who came to my rescue. Slipping up behind me, she gave me an understanding pat.
"She'll get over it a lot faster if she isn't looking at you," she whispered. "I can't let you leave until it's settled but it'll be all right soon. Marci's a wonderful gal. I've known her for years. There are some things you have to try to understand. Come along, pet."
"Where are you taking me?" I asked.
"Somewhere you'll like," she promised me warmly.
I followed her, grasping at straws. Her smile and her concern were desperately needed after the things Marci had said to me back in that room. My cheeks still burned with embarrassment.
I didn't understand where she was leading me but I followed. She led me down the hall to the farthest door. Her eyes danced impishly as she reached for the doorknob. Twisting around, she raised my chin with her free hand and warmly... lingeringly kissed me on the lips.
"Now," she whispered. "Lock the door from the inside and don't come out unless I call you. You'll remember that?"
I nodded.
"You can help my daughter baby-sit the boys," she said, "... and Candy?"
"Yes?"
"My children and I would welcome a visit from you any time," she told me warmly.
Her hand gave my breast a gentle squeeze and then she pushed me through the door.
"Dawn!" she called quietly. "I have a sweet little angel that wants to visit with you."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The door closed behind me and I found myself in the frilly bedroom of a young girl. I couldn't see the occupant but the pink-ruffled canopy bed and host of giant stuffed animals perched on low wicker chairs suggested a girl in her earliest teens.
"Who are you?" a high-pitched voice demanded.
I found her then, poking up out of the far end of the comforter. She propped up several pillows, plumped them nicely and leaned back against them. Though her naked little body was exposed from the waist up, she surveyed me as haughtily as though she were a queen. As I watched, a second head popped up beside her and then another from the other side.
"How do you do," I said. "My name is Candy."
"What kind?" giggled one of the boys.
"I'm hungry," the other added. "Hope you're a Bite of Honey."
All three of them thought this enormously funny.
"You want to come to bed with us?" Dawn asked suddenly. "I'm not going to get up and entertain you because I'm busy. If you want to come to bed, you can play, too, I guess."
"What are you playing?" I asked stupidly.
They'd said it so openly, I didn't dream!
"Oh, brother," the girl muttered.
"You some kind of a nut?" one of the boys giggled.
I walked over and stared down at them. They were pretty rude for being so young. The girl was perhaps twelve or thirteen, her brothers somewhat younger. The one closest to me grinned up at me and then deliberately threw back the covers. Lewdly, he arched his flanks up at me. His precious little shaft was no more than two inches long and not a half-an-inch in diameter. I wanted to touch it so bad, I could scarcely keep my hands still.
"Don't you like to mess around?" he pouted.
Now the girl kicked back the covers so that they were all exposed. None of them had a stitch of clothing on. Dawn's hairless little pussy was blushing from the abuse she'd been giving it all evening. The boy farthest from me had a longer, fatter sticker. He was obviously older than the little one beneath me.
"I'm... ah, I-I... " I stammered.
It was the youngest that tempted me so terribly. I couldn't see anything but that straight little body with its rigid, golden treasure. He was tanned all over, a bronzed boy of such perfection that he hardly seemed real, yet he roused every sense within me to a vibrating, electric awareness.
"What's the matter with her?" the other boy asked his sister.
"Guy! How should I know?" she answered. Her tone was edged with irritation. "Look! Either come on or get out. I'm not going to waste all night."
Flopping back against the mattress, she turned her back to me and reached for her brother's swollen pecker.
"Come on," she said. "Rub me some more. Who needs her?"
I didn't need her, either, I thought. Just looking down at the youngest made me burn. \ "What's your name?" I asked him.
"Billy," he said. "You can sit down here if you like."
Gingerly, I perched on the edge of the bed beside him.
"You married?" he asked.
He took up my left hand and pretended to examine my ring but he knew, and I knew, where he would put that hand when he finished. My cheeks burned as I waited, yet I couldn't make myself pull away.
"Yes," I forced myself to answer. "I haven't seen my husband for several... " He pressed my palm down against his crotch. Instinctively, my fingers wrapped around his hot, silky little pole and the heel of my hand nuzzled hungrily in against his tender nuts. Every part of me shuddered with excitement.
"You like me as good as you do a man?" he asked.
"Better," I breathed.
"Why?"
"I don't know," I whined. "Maybe... maybe it's because it's not big enough to hurt anything... no, it's more than that. I don't know. It's so tender, kind of, so... so naughty. I know I shouldn't touch it at all, you know. They wouldn't want me to touch you at all, so naturally I want to... I have to, you know? Oh, God!"
Both hands were on him now. I couldn't get enough of him.
"You don't have to be all one-way about it," he groaned. "That feels bitchen but I want to mess around with you, too. Come on. Get your pants off and your... hey! You got tits, huh? Come on!"
"Your mother might come for me," I said.
"Balls!" he snorted. "She wouldn't have stuck you in here if she expected you to sit. It's cold out there. You coming in or not?"
He jerked his flanks around so that his little billy club slipped from my grasp. With his eyes twinkling, he jerked the covers up around his neck.
"Now," he said with a mischievous grin, "if you want to play with me, you got to let me play with you, too. Get 'em off, lady."
I glared at him, yet I could feel myself sinking. I was losing the ship before I even got a chance to bail. I crossed my arms, grabbed up the hem of my dress and pulled it up and off of my body. Before I could toss it aside, Billy was squirming his finger in through the crotch of my panties.
"Damn, I hate stocking pants," he complained. "You'd think they'd come with zippers or something."
I slipped off my panties and bra, scuffed out of my pumps until I was left in nothing but the hose he complained of.
I ought to leave them on, I thought. It would serve him right!
I didn't think about it for long. His jaw was too determined and his pecker too small and pointy. My hands itched to hold him. With him grabbing for my tits, I backed off, slid my hose down to below my knees and stepped free.
"Move over," I muttered. "I'm coming in."
They all giggled as he made room for me. The other two stopped what they were doing to look up.
"The bod's not too bad," the boy commented.
"I'll be as good as her any day, when I get a little older," his sister answered churlishly.
Crawling in with those children, beneath the thick comforter was like returning to my childhood - even, perhaps, to the womb. I can remember that wonderful sense of contentment when my parents let me climb into their bed and lay between them, all snuggled in and warm. I was their love child, the only proof of their life together for when they died, everything they owned went with them - everything except for me.
Billy was a squirmy, wriggly little fellow, not nearly so cool about things as Terry was. The only thing better about him, actually, was that his eager little pecker was a couple of years younger. He grabbed a handful of titty and reached for a handful of snatch. I had to warn him not to dig in almost from the start. For the first time in my life, I became the teacher. Gratefully, he took direction readily.
"Momma-me," he begged.
"You've got a momma," I scolded. "Anyway, I'd never touch a child of mine like this."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Hush! Here, you can suck my titty, I guess. That ought to keep you quiet for a while, anyway... Ugh! Take it easy down there, Billy. That's tender. Yes, more like that. Mmmmmm."
He was small enough to rest his head on my arm to nurse without pulling any of the rest of his body away from me. For some time, we were both content to lay there, fondling each other and feeling the warm sensations flow through our bodies. Though I knew their mother could come for me at any time, I couldn't hurry the pleasure that flooded through me. There was no sense of urgency - no necessity to push on to anything more intense. It was just there and we took it.
"Nice," he whispered.
"Yes," I answered with a sigh.
His lips returned to my breast. I loved the way he sucked me. He'd work over one nipple for a while, not hard but steady and he'd push like he was trying to bring the milk down or something. Then, he'd leave that nipple and wallow his way over my breast. He'd root around in my cleavage a few minutes, letting both breasts press against his cheeks and then he'd hone in on the other nipple for a while. All this time, our bellies were sliding back and forth against each other and our genitals and hands were a jumble of smoldering flesh working close together.
"You sure feel good," he said. "You're lots softer than my sister."
"Mmmmm-hmmmmm," I purred.
"You're not saggy, either, the way my momma is."
"Mmmm-hmmm," was all I could manage.
As good as it was, it couldn't go on forever. With his silky pole between my fingers and his fingers in my feverish twat, there came a time when it was not enough. I needed to feel his flesh directly - to wrap my steaming pussy-lips around that sweet, little cock.
"Come over on top of me," I groaned. "I want to feel your pecker against me."
I rolled over onto my back and he quickly scrambled up on top of me. With my legs open, I could feel him rooting around in my rut long before he found the way home.
Everywhere he touched branded me with fresh excitement. I raised up my thighs and pulled him in so tight that I could feel his balls all knotted up hard against me.
"Lord, that's good," I breathed.
"Yeah," he chortled. "Rub it around a little... aaahh!" At that moment, anyone could have walked into that room, even Brian, and I wouldn't have stopped. I'd have cared. I'd have felt bad to have them seeing me like that but I couldn't have stopped what we were doing.
Billy's little prick was too small to pump in and out of me without getting lost. All we could do was rub but, God, what a feeling! If I could have gotten us wedged in between the jaws of a giant press and then had ourselves screwed in together until we were crushed, I wouldn't have cried out with anything but ecstasy.
There's a need in it. There's a terrible, compulsive urge to feel the flesh pushed together until it is literally welded as one. The rubbing - the grinding - the terrible, all-consuming need to press on and in and through.
My arms crushed his head in against my breast and my legs squeezed his little fanny into me as hard as I could. My limbs locked in until I couldn't have released him if I'd tried and my entire body shuddered with the effort.
"I'm in," he cried excitedly. "I can feel it! I'm in!"
Of course he was in. He'd been there from the beginning but he was so excited, so antsy and fidgety that he didn't know until I pulled him tightly in. Once I knew how important it was for him, I began squeezing his little dong with my vaginal muscles and every contraction made him whine with delight.
My brain burned with passion. Lewd, feverish desires raced through my head, coming so fast that, even if I'd tried, I couldn't have accomplished half of what my brain urged me to try. I needed to hold his little fingerling in my hand, between my breasts, in my mouth all at the same time, yet I needed him where he was the most. I dreamed of a dozen little boys scrambling over me, rubbing their peters into every part of me and still it wasn't enough.
"Billy," I whispered. "Oh, Billy... do it!"
Whatever it was that I was crying out for, he managed to answer the call. He began jiggling hard and furious against me and then my emotions burst free.
"Eyiiiiiiiiii!" I wailed.
My body stiffened into a shuddering arc and though the boy was working feverishly against me, I could help no more. In ecstasy, I floated. I heard him cry out. I knew that he had made it when his warm, sweet cum squirted into me but none of it had meaning for my spirit wasn't there.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They came for me around midnight. I was all dressed and waiting by the door, thankfully, since Marci was with them. Without the lights on, they couldn't see whose room I was in and the children were all asleep.
"I'm sorry I let myself get carried away, dear," Marci said. "You have such a great potential I couldn't bear the idea of your not going along with the entire program. I'll never try to force you again, pet. Are you all right?"
"Sure," I answered too quickly.
"She's fine," the hostess said warmly and on the way to the door, she added, "come see the children and me, some time soon."
I promised I would but my mind was in a turmoil over what to say to my employer. I could think of nothing else. There was so much to discuss, yet I couldn't say the things or ask the questions that were burning in my brain.
Somehow, I had to break free. I couldn't let this woman make demands of me, any more. In my mind, I mulled over the weeks I'd lived with the Donovans, seeing it the way it was for the very first time.
I'd been too impressed by their good looks... their clothes... the way they talked. All of my own instincts and ideas seemed foolish when I listened to either of them. I had allowed myself to be cowed into accepting everything they told me as fact. I could see now that much of it was wrong.
I thought of the bold way I'd taken out that man's penis tonight and the way I'd pumped up the dog. All of it was to impress Marci so that she'd let me have my way. Well, I'd gotten what I'd deserved. The more I'd given in, the more she'd asked of me. That was the way life was.
I had little to say as we rode home. The dog sat in the seat between us with Marci reaching over to pat him affectionately whenever the wheel did not require both hands.
I looked at that dog and I thought of Billy. We each had our hang-ups, Marci and I.
"I tried real hard most of the night," I ventured. "Are you going to let me see Brian?"
"Very soon," she promised.
Marci could not have dreamed how prophetic her words were. We found my husband standing in the hall, leaning against her apartment door.
"Brian!" I cried.
I rushed into his arms, thinking of nothing but how wonderful it was to have him there. If Marci was surprised, she managed to recover with surprising speed.
"So, you're Candy's husband?" she cooed. "Darling, I don't know how you could ever have run away from a doll like that!"
"Run? I didn't... " I stammered but Brian took charge.
"Candy's coming home with me," my marvelous husband growled. "She's coming right now."
He wasn't buying her lies. She unlocked the door and tried to coax us inside but Brian wasn't going for that, either.
"Calm down, big boy," she scolded in her most motherly tone. "I'll explain everything if you'll... "
"How'd you find me, honey?" I interrupted.
"Yes, how did you find... "
"You slipped out with the names," he said. "I went straight to the recorder's office. Come on. I don't want any of her explanations. You're coming home with me now, if you're going to come at all."
"I'm ready," I whispered. "I've been ready since that first terrible night."
"I think you'd better listen, young man," she said icily. "We could each cause the other a good bit of trouble."
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Wait until I see if Brad is in," she said. "He should handle this. Marci, put Buzz up, will you?" All the tension in the air had gotten to old Buzz. His long red pointer was out and stabbing as he tried to climb Marci's leg.
"No," I said with a shudder. "I don't want to touch him."
"What the hell's going on around... who are you?" It was Brad. He came stamping around the corner wearing nothing but his robe, and that he was busily tying shut. One look at Brian and his scowl turned to fury.
"Who are you?" he hissed. "What are you doing in my house?"
"I'm not in your house," Brian roared right back. "I'm Candy's husband and I'm taking her home."
"The hell you are," Brad snorted.
"Help me with the dog!" Marci whined. "I can't get him off of me."
"Candy, help her with the dog," Brad ordered. "Listen here, young man, if you'll step in here so we can talk like civilized human beings, per... "
"NO!" we both said at once.
Nos didn't come so hard for Brian as they did for me. When I'd said it, I began feeling stronger right away. Now that I'd said it to both of them, they didn't seem so impressive any more. With Brian towering over them, they looked small and kind of pathetic.
"I'm going home," I said firmly.
"I could spoil everything for you," Marci reminded me.
"Yes," I agreed, "all the way around."
I looked her straight in the eye as I said it. She never said another word.
"Is there anything of yours here?" Brian asked.
"Nothing I want," I told him. "I have my purse right here. That's all I came with."
"Then let's get out of here."
They glared at us. All the time we waited for an elevator, they stood there staring holes through my back but they didn't say a word. It didn't matter. I didn't intend to see them again, anyway.
"I'm so glad you found me," I sobbed.
"You could have gotten away before if you'd wanted to bad enough," he accused.
"Brian, don't talk like that. Really, I... "
"You weren't chained," he growled. "That woman wasn't so big or powerful that you couldn't have broken free of her if you'd cared about me."
I was furious... and hurt. My jaw set grimly and I wracked my brain for some way to hit back.
"You never were able to break free of the Pink Pussy, either," I reminded him.
"What's that got to do with it?" he demanded.
"I left you because you treated me so bad," I told him. "You've been treating me bad for a long time. Sometimes it's necessary to teach a person a lesson. That's what I started out to do. After a while, they had me all tied up with invisible bonds... like I owed them something."
"Do you still want to work for them?" he asked.
"No, Brian," I promised. "Not unless you treat me bad again."
We reached the parking lot and got into our car. It wasn't as nice as the Donovan's automobile but it suited me fine.
"You're not mad any more, are you, Brian?" I asked.
"I don't know," he complained. "You got to tell me everything. I don't know until you tell me what you were doing and why. I ain't as fast as you about things, Candy. You got to explain it to me, all of it."
I could do a lot better than that. As I started in on my tame little version of party selling, my hand slipped over and began to massage the nice big bulge at his crotch.
"I cook the meal, see, using the Eternity Cookware and then I serve it to all the guests on a table that I've decorated with all these party favors. I sell those, too."
"What are you doing?"
"Playing with you," I teased. "I've been away so long that I've gotten horny, too."
He chuckled. "You haven't got a horn to get horny with," he reminded me. "Besides, you don't like messing around where anyone can see."
"So who can see us on the freeway?" I asked, "and as to my condition, if I can't be horny, at least you'll have to admit that my panties are all wet just from looking at you. Here, let me prove it to you."
I took his free hand and pushed it up under my skirt. He almost ran us off the road.
"Candy, for God's sake!"
"Hush, just look ahead and think about your driving," I scolded playfully. "No one will ever know."
His fingers slipped in against my pussy and I shivered with pleasure.
"What did that woman mean by spoiling things for you?" he asked. "Candy, you're keeping things from me. You were never like this."
"Pooh," I snorted though my brain was spinning to keep ahead of him. "She knows I could turn her in for income tax evasion," I lied. "I know some things about them... about their business methods."
"What has she got on you?" he demanded but his voice was growing weak.
For a moment, I drew a total blank and then it came to me in a flash. "She paid me under the table," I said. "I didn't have any clothes. She let me charge some on her account."
"I'll get her paid," he said and I knew I was home free.
My fingers were really getting to him. That nice soft bulge had changed into the outline of a giant log.
"Poor thing," I cooed. "I ought to let it out. It must be all cramped up in there."
I gave his waistband a jerk and it came free. I couldn't have lucked out like that again in a million years. Quickly, I unzipped his fly and I had his big old trunk out in the open air before he knew what had hit him.
"My God!" he gasped. "Candy, what in the shit are you trying to do?"
"I'm trying to show you how much I love you," I whispered.
Before he could stop me, I dropped down and pressed my lips to his big old knobby head. In the weeks that I'd seen so much, there'd never been anyone with a bigger business than him.
"JEEEEEEEsus!" he wailed. "You're going to kill us both!"
He fussed a lot but he didn't try to pull me away. I let my lips slide around his head, clinging close like a snake when it swallows a big hen's egg. I'd watched it all on T.V. and I tried to do that to Brian now. He evidently liked it because he was groaning and squirming all over the place. "I don't know what them motherfuckers taught you but I sure as shit like it!" he groaned.
I let him rave all he liked while I kept sucking. His hand made its way inside my panties where I'd pushed it in in the first place and he started patting and petting my pussy real nice. My love-lips were all hot and hard from the waiting and they fairly burst with excitement by the time he got his hands on them.
"Got to find a place to pull off," he whined. "I - damn! What'll I do? Candy? What the shit should I do?"
I drew my mouth away slowly and looked up as sweet as pie. "Do you love me, Brian?" I asked.
"Of course. Christ! What a time to ask a question like that?" he wailed.
"Am I making you happier than I ever did before?" I wanted to know.
He only groaned but his finger slid through my pussy-lips and tapped out a love message against my throbbing bud. I could feel his cock jumping around as it waited anxiously for my lips to return.
"Could you watch the road while I kiss it a little more?" I asked. "I think it needs me pretty bad."
"Please," he said with a moan.
It was the first time I'd ever heard Brian say that word. I never expected him to say please for anything. Happily, I took his silky flesh back into my smoldering mouth. I worked it... kneaded it... loved it with my tongue. I could feel his body shuddering all over and his finger poked insistently into my turgid hole.
I'm going to take it when it comes, I thought. I'm going to suck in his sweet gravy, no matter how much he pours into me and I'm going to swallow every last bit.
It was the best way I could prove how much I really loved him. It was important that I want not only every part of his body but even his seed. I was so intent on making it all good for him that I didn't realize how close my own emotions had come.
I felt his balls knot in my hands and then his cock gave a lurch and the first volley of cum broke free. I took it and more... and more.
Afterwards, I was never able to remember how it was for me until that instant when an overwhelming crest exploded within me. When it came, however, it was more than I had ever felt anywhere, at any time... with any one. It was giving and receiving and no one who has never loved could possibly understand.
"You've been having sex," Brian accused when he could finally catch his breath. "You couldn't have learned all this any other way."
"Silly," I scoffed. "We've had sex every single night since we were married. I never changed that much. It's doing without that gave me all the ideas. I suddenly saw how I was cheating you. I wanted you to be so happy that you'd never want to go anywhere without me."
"I won't," he promised. "No more Pink Pussy. Next time... God forbid... you might be too hot and sexy to wait. I sure wouldn't want you to ever dish this out to another man."
I smiled warmly. "I can promise I won't," I whispered. "Not to any man."
