Here's to Oliver Torcido, A man with a foot-long torpedo.
He balled 'em and banged 'em
Till he met the High Madame.
Now he's softer than steamed mashed potatoes!
-Anonymous
"According to most psychological and sexological texts, (the principal) kinds of male inadequacy are rarely based on physical deficiencies, but are rooted in the individual's emotional disturbances."
-Albert Ellis, Ph.D. Sex Without Guilt
1
I'm Oliver Torcido. I'm twenty-one, six-feet even, and weigh one-ninety stripped, and I'm stripped now, stark naked. And I own twelve and seven-eighths inches, actual measurement, when deep in the red grip of passion. But just now passion won't grip me...
like I said, I'm naked. And so is my Minnie naked. She's lying on her back on the bed in my apartment, California's golden sunlight streaming in to emphasize her high, dark-nippled full breasts, her flat, heaving stomach and her brightly-dyed red hair.
When she's ambling along the avenue in street duds, Minnie looks like any housewife. But when stripped naked ... well, she's an entirely different sight, indeed-a nude dream sexy enough to stir a corpse to violent up-and-down sexual activities.
But here she is, naked as the day she was born, with her right nipple in my hot damp mouth, her hips twisting in passion as my forefinger enters her oozing box, and me with about eight and one-half inches, which means I have a half-erection.
Her hot breath fairly scorches my cheek. Her nipple heaves and falls, sweet and full in my mouth, my tongue tickling its jutting hard point. I feel my finger grow damper, for she's sexually excited. I tell my private to grow hard and big, but it doesn't.
My heart sinks to my naked ankles. I remember my failing to pass the sexual examinations so I could become a stud at the Palace of Phallism in the mountains bordering this California town.
I'd then, by mere chance, gotten a second chance at becoming a stud, but I'd fallen down there, too, being unable to erect often enough and maintain an erection for an eight-hour shift. But that is another story, which I'll go into later.
Here I am with Minnie's big nipple in my mouth, my forefinger stroking her clitoris, and with her gasping that I mount her and assume a man's position and a man's sexual responsibilities-and me unable to summon a complete and satisfying erection!
Had I lost it? Forever? Were my sex days forever behind me?
I'd read where middle-aged men, upon losing sexual powers, had gone stark mad, or had become bitter and selfish. I now understood their cases completely, for of all the sinking sick feelings I've ever had, the feeling that I'd lost it forever was the most sinking, and the most sick...
Now Minnie's sweet deep voice coos, "Darling Oliver, is there something wrong, sweetheart? You fail to erect, honey."
Dismay tugged me. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I'm thinking, and I can't do two things at the same time."
Her soft hand touches my feverish cheek. I'd been in this town almost two months, and Minnie had been the first woman in town to pay me to go to bed with her, and when I said pay me I meant pay me.
Look at it realistically. Minnie's pushing her early forties. Women that age either get it from their husbands, which Minnie wasn't, or pay some young buck to satisfy them. And when you buy something, buy the best. How many men own twelve and seven-eighths inches, when erect?
Minnie soon introduced me to her bosom friend, dark-haired lovely Gertie, who is really better than Minnie on the innerspring, and who with Minnie got me a trial as a stud, and got me into the Palace on trial, and I repaid them by miserably flunking out on both angles-to say nothing of losing around fifty grand a year, which is what a good stud makes net at the Palace.
No wonder I couldn't erect!
But we Torcidos are a stubborn lot, and Minnie now has her hand around my failing penis, stroking back and forth, the foreskin sliding up over my knob, then back.
She strokes slowly, for she knows my penis well. Her hand is hot and damp as it loves my foreskin. Her breast is hard and rigid against my tongue, my saliva coating it. Her nude skin smells of healthy female and her harsh breathing rings in my ears. I lick her nipple, and find its taste strong and good-but still, my penis bends in the middle!
Minnie is panting on the leash, ready-but Oliver Torcido definitely is not ready...
Fear strikes me, now. Minnie and Gertie are paying my apartment rent and paying me for each sexual session, having broken with the Palace because of its treatment toward me.
I'll get fifty bucks for doing it to this big-busted matron. She'd have had to pay seventy-five clams for an hour at the Palace with a stud, and he might have a much shorter tool than I owned. If I don't deliver to Minnie, she might quit me cold and take her trade back to the Palace, and I'd have only Gertie left, and if I couldn't erect and satisfy her-
The terror of it made me sweat.
Suddenly I heard a clicking sound on my right. I knew immediately that my good friend, Doc Mullholland, had silently entered my room. He was clicking his false teeth, a sign of exasperation.
Minnie's petulant voice said, "He just isn't in the mood, Doc. He just can't get a good, hard erection. And when I take on a man-"
"I know," Doc Mullholland soothed. "But even when Oliver is not reared upward, he's got more than the ordinary man, darling. Why don't you absorb him with half an erection on?"
My heart leaped. Good old Doc, the lovable, forty-year-old fraud! Doc had bought his medical degree for five hundred bucks from one of those Los Angeles quick-diploma universities where you get your degree in whatever field of study you want as fast as they can print your diploma ... after they get paid, of course.
Doc had been house physician at the Palace of Phallism, and when I'd been booted out by the High Madame, he'd got mad at the Palace, out of friendship for me and Gertie and Minnie. like Minnie and Gertie he now refused to enter the Palace grounds.
Good old Doc, the queer, was on my side, the true friend. Minnie would take me, even though I was but half-erected, for Minnie had a big box and this was peculiar, because Minnie had never stretched having a kid. By all rights, she should have been nice and tight, but she definitely was not.
Gertie was much tighter than Minnie. Gertie also was childless, and both she and Minnie had rather wealthy businessmen-husbands who paid sexual attention, apparently, to every woman but their legally-wedded wives.
"I don't like your tone of voice, Doc," Minnie said coldly.
Minnie was very well aware of the hugeness of her female opening, and Doc's words had hurt her, which was natural enough when you look at the circumstances. The only thing Minnie took pride in, in life was her ability to perform sexually.
"There is such a thing as a human mouth," Doc ventured to say.
My heart pole-vaulted, this time. Doc really was pulling for me! A hot, grasping set of lips would pull me erect in no time, I felt sure, even though my two-time galling defeats at the Palace still rankled me, burning in my soul, making me feel worthless and shiftless.
Bent over Minnie's heaving breast, my mouth still encompassing her lovely big nipple, I heard Minnie say angrily, "Yes, and whose mouth would it be but yours, Doc Mullholland. All you want is a man, you damned old queer." Although she sounded angry, she really wasn't. She and Gertie loved Doc just as much as I did, and Doc Mullholland and I had had many delightful sessions in bed, you know, coupled as only two men can happily couple...
"Minnie," Doc said in assumed hurt, "you wound me to the quick, my good woman. It was your mouth I was talking about, darling, and well you know that."
I sent my medical friend a sidewise glance, Minnie's nipple still big and solid in my mouth. His eyes were riveted on Minnie's hairy female opening. Even as I watched, his red tongue snaked out and wet his lips in anticipation.
I glanced at Minnie. Her eyes were closed, her lips tight. I glanced back at Doc. I tried to nod but failed, for Minnie's nipple was in my mouth, but Doc caught the nod.
I noticed he'd already stripped down. He is a small man, by friend Doc Mullholland, and he is very poorly rigged, which is one reason, no doubt, he-likes nine and six, especially with a man. He says a man has a stronger mouth than a female.
"The eternal triangle," Doc murmured, Minnie not hearing.
Carefully, my mouth left Minnie's nipple. I moved my knees around, and soon her head was between my knees, with my dangling appendage brushing her nose, bringing her eyes instantly wide open.
"Oh, Oliver! Oliver, you sweet darling!"
She began nibbling, delicious thrills shooting through me, heating my lagging flesh, my testicles even tingling. And at that moment, Doc's head went between her thighs, and again she moaned in bliss, only louder this time.
"Doc, darling, is that you?"
Doc's yes was muffled, his mouth deep in pubic hair. Both of the girls-Minnie and Gertie-say that Doc has the roundest, longest, hardest tongue each has ever encountered, and both have seen-and tasted-more than their share.
Doc was below my head now. I heard a lapping sound, and I nudged him. His head rose. Already he had a ring of white around his mouth.
"What bugs you, Oliver?"
"You got to be on your back," I said.
"Oh, that's right. I guess I was too hasty. Been some time since we've had a triangle, you know. Wish Gertie was here. I like those squares we build, the four of us."
Minnie said something but, of course, it was muffled but if sounded like, "Get to work, you bums," so Doc and I-and Minnie-got to the delightful chore ahead.
Minnie's lips grasped, hung, pulled. I felt my penis begin to harden slightly, and hope speared me. I hadn't gone dead, thank heavens! I waited for it to grow very rigid, very long, very hungry, for Minnie is a lip-artist of the first water, but, to my dismay, only a little life tingled in it. It didn't seek its stiff twelve and seven-eighths glory, persisting in staying at a half-hard ten and one-half, or around there.
I concentrated on it, demanding it grow its usual hard length, but to my horror, it shrunk instead of growing. Fear again knifed me.
I heard Doc's sucking, probing lips. His tongue, doubled in a cylinder, would be up high, exploring the red and cream-filled pocket, storming at the point where the vagina and the uterus connect, high in Minnie's delightful belly.
Doc's little thing was very rigid, jabbing into my lips. I did my best with it, but it's just too darned small; sometimes, in fact, it can slip free from my lips, it's that tiny.
But I did my best, lips working tightly, skinning the small foreskin back and forth, not allowing the knob to get out too far and thus have the entire appendage escape.
Again, Minnie made a sound, but not words this time-she groaned around me, a long and deliriously happy moan. I knew she'd had a great stirring of sexual excitement; in fact, she might have orgasmed, for she is a hot female, which is the understatement of the year.
Now a woman's sweet voice asked, "May I join the party?"
I glanced upward, Gertie had arrived-sleek, svelte Gertie with her small waist, large breasts, and womanly hips. Her glistening black hair was built up high in the latest mode, her dark Spanish eyes glistening as they riveted on my appendage, which was sliding in and out of Minnie's .red-lipped mouth.
Suddenly I wished I was in Gertie's small mouth, not Minnie's big one, for Gertie is supreme at bringing a man bliss in sucking, a fact I had learned from long happy experience, her head between my legs or over my thighs.
"Why not?" I challenged.
Gertie was naked in ho time. She unzipped her black, form-fitting dress with its built-in bra. She then wore only hose, for she'd already kicked off her spikes and had her socks rolled so they'd stay up without a panty girdle.
"I'm ready," she panted, still eyeing my implement in Minnie's mouth.
My mouth grudgingly surrendered Doc. "We've got to make some different arrangements," I said, for I wanted my thing in Gertie's mouth, my whole body aching to feel the tight hard pull of her lips on me. And, with that, I took myself from Minnie's mouth, with her opening her eyes and seeing Gertie for the first time.
"Darling," Minnie murmured. "I thought I heard your lovely voice, but I was in such bliss I just couldn't open my eyes, you know! You look lovely, darling Gertie."
And Gertie, indeed, did look lovely. She's small, while Minnie's rather heavy; nevertheless, she was not behind the door when the breastworks were furnished, for her nipples are rose-colored stones, her breasts hard and bunched together so tight the valley is just a firm, flesh-colored, appealing line.
Her waist is very tiny, but it flares out into good solid hips. Her pubic hair is a black, thick forest that comes to her navel. Nestled in the bush, sweet and small, is her womanhood, a rosebud awaiting a tongue ... or a rigid penis...
Rigid penis?
My mind whipped back to my limpness. I discovered I was just as limp as before entering Minnie's hungry mouth.
Minnie said, "Oliver just couldn't erect, darling, so Doc suggested we go into a triangle, and Oliver is still not erect. I do believe the poor boy had a psychic scar after his tragic experiences with testing for the Palace of Phallism, and his second terrible incident with the High Madame there."
I winced. The High Madame had given me my sixth and conclusive test for possible studhood at the Palace, and I'd failed to erect. The test had consisted of common man-woman entrance, and she'd thrown me to the floor, where my sacroiliac had slipped out of place, leaving me writhing in pain while she laughed and left. I had lost all chance of making a half-million or so as a Palace stud.
By sheer luck, the Palace soon afterward had decided to expand its cribs, and new studs would be needed, of course. Because Minnie and Gertie had been charter members of the Palace, I'd been given a second chance.
Again, the High Madame had tested me and I, weary from a steady eight-hour a day shift without a day off for weeks, had again failed to erect. Once again, I lunged for the dirty female, but she, with her ex-female-wrestler skill, had dumped me hard on the floor, again slipping my backbone loose.
The last time, to add insult to injury, she'd had me bodily thrown from the Palace, the guards gleefully manhandling me.
"Forget the Palace," I growled, "And also forget that goddamned High Madame. You just mention her name and my sacroiliac starts to ache!"
What in the hell is a Palace of Phallism?
I shall be blunt: the word Phallys means the human male's prick! Or hangdown, or cock, or peter-or whatever you want to call the male penis. Thus a palace of phallism is a house devoted to the male cock, which has quite a long history as being a revered object. History records the ancient Egyptians had religious rites featuring the penis, which maybe was what made old Cleopatra such a hot mama for Caesar and other Roman lads.
Thus a palace of Phallism is where penises await women, not women awaiting penises. "Whorehouse in reverse," a wit once defined.
Gertie still studied my limp penis. "And you couldn't make Oliver erect?" she asked Minnie.
Minnie stiffened. "Can you?" she challenged.
"You're damned right I can!" Gertie snapped. "I've done it before. I can do it again!"
"Hop to it, smart bitch!" Minnie rapped out.
"Don't smart bitch me, dumb bitch!"
Minnie started up from the bed. I caught her and slammed her back again. "You females lay off the fighting," I ordered savagely. "I'm in enough trouble now, without having you two add more!"
"Please, girls," Doc Mullholland pleaded in his high-pitched homosexual's voice. "Remember the Alamo, please."
Gertie stared at naked Doc. "Remember the Alamo? You gone nuts, man? Why should anybody remember the Alamo?"
"You remember the Alamo," Doc said, "and you won't argue. A person can't keep his mind on two things at once. So let's all remember the Alamo, huh?"
"Bullshit," Minnie snorted.
"The whole goddamned world is nuts," Gertie said. "I can make him erect. He's got no psychic scar."
"Okay," Minnie said scornfully. "Let's get to work, smartie pants!"
I felt Gertie's red lips nibble me like a rabbit testing out a carrot, but I ain't no carrot, because a carrot's stiff all the time. Still, her lovely lips darting here and there, tongue warm and damp, made my testicles throb slightly, and hope speared back into me.
Think big, I thought. Think hard, I thought. Think hard and it'll get hard ... Think, think, think...
Her lips went around my knob, sucked it inside; I felt warmth and dampness, and usually I erected immediately once my bulb was in-but not today.
Her tongue circled my knob, loved my foreskin-and I awaited, but nothing happened...
Think hard, think stiff, think pussy...
I concentrated on remembering the identification card of a female who was a member of the Palace of Phallism, the one I'd been kicked out of. I closed my eyes. I saw the membership card clearly.
A huge penis was entering a hairy female opening. You could see the male's hanging scrotum, testicles big inside the hairy bag.
The female vulva was open, receiving the huge knob. You saw the female's hair, the curvature of her buttocks, the huge penis half in her vagina. It was enough to erect a dead man. I'd seen studs just study the card for a while, and within a short time they'd be ready for business again.
But although I remembered the penis and vulva, the rounded buttocks, the big scrotum with its testicles, I felt not a stirring of sexual desires, although by now my penis was almost completely in Gertie's hot mouth.
Gertie is an expert. She's had much practice, you know. She applied pressure hard with her lips, tongue circling my penis; when her head rose, she let all of me but my knob leave her hungry lips.
Her lips locked around my bulb. Her lips loved my knob, caressed it, danced with it, pulled on it-but my bulb remained limp and lifeless, and my heart was somewhere around my big toes;
Oh, God, no! God, no, God, no!
Think hard Oliver Torcido, think erection!
I hear a slopping sound. First I thought it was my tongue lapping in Minnie's hot box with its sweet white flowing fluids, then I realized it was Minnie's mouth loving Doc's penis.
Minnie had a hopeless task. No woman living could raise an erection on Doc, mouth or otherwise. Doc just couldn't rise with a woman. He was male-all male-and only a man's mouth could erect him.
Doc could mount a woman in regular man-woman fashion, and never get a charge out of it. But let him get a man on the man's fours, or the man's back, and Doc had a rigid, although very short, tool prodding and, at last, exploding in male expression.
An ironic thought hit me. Minnie could never, never erect Doc. And maybe Gertie, expert that she was, couldn't erect me, either!
Two expert tongue-and-mouth women, drawing two male blanks?
I shut such bad thoughts from my mind, concentrating on Minnie's hot, flowing vulva, my tongue stroking her clitoris to drive her to lunging, gasping female excitement.
I tasted Minnie's come, which, in my estimation, was sweeter than Gertie's, although Doc claimed otherwise. I rolled her whiteness in my mouth, sucked its sweet musk, and slowly but grudgingly allowed it to trickle down my throat.
The bed made no protesting sounds. I had oiled all parts thoroughly. Naked bodies exuded faint sweat. You heard the slap of mouth against vulva, the pull of lips and tongues against male appendages. You caught the sweet smell-the perfume of fresh come.
I felt Minnie's pubic hair against my mouth. I saw her anus, shiny and clean, and my nose ran into it, and I caught its good aroma. Her legs were spread, her vulva directly below my face, and my tongue rolled and probed, making her gasp and groan around Doc's inadequate penis.
I deliberately took my mind away from my limp tool. It would get hard faster, I thought, if I just let Nature and Gertie's tongue and lips take full command. I concentrated on Minnie's flowing womanhood, my tongue loving each drop of her glistening come.
Time flies by. I tried to lose myself, my ego, my individuality, in red sexual bliss, but couldn't. . .
All I could not think of was my disgrace at the Palace of Phallism. By failing as a stud I also failed to earn around fifty thousand net each year, but the most galling, soul-scarring thing was that I'd failed, and all my life I'd yearned to be a stud...
That was the terrible part of this failing in what I had chosen while in high school to be a possible life profession. And, besides failing, I had been thrown out-bodily, too.
And Minnie and Gertie had been charter members of the Palace. They'd sponsored me, recommended my sexual ability.
I'd not only failed myself, but had failed my two dear female friends, too. Now I would have to make it up to them, for each had torn up her admittance card to the Palace, although each still held between them around sixty grand in Palace bonds which, Minnie said, paid about thirty percent a year, and no income tax either, slate or federal.
Now all sexual responsibility of the two women rested on my penis. Each was married, as mentioned, but each received nothing from their wealthy husbands, for apparently these husbands had tired of their childless wives, as husbands invariably do whether the wife is childless or fertile.
Now it was up to me to furnish a red-haired Minnie and a raven-haired Gertie with plenty of sex, for I'd been instrumental in their tearing up their Palace cards. And this brought me back, once again, to my penis...
A week had passed since Palace guards had thrown me out. After having my back adjusted by a chiropractor immediately after the incident, I entertained both Minnie and Gertie-not to mention Doc-and had had semen for all, and then the next day my sperm just ceased to flow, it seemed. '
Would my penis again come back?
I felt Minnie's mouth pull. I realized my penis had stiffened not an iota. Her tongue and lips worked with the same limp, dead thing.
I groaned in extreme agony, Minnie's pubic hair muffling my sorrow. This affair had been going on for a long time, now-by now, both girls, although very sexy, had just about expended their limits. Soon we would have to stop.
And what about the mouths of Minnie and Gertie? Minnie, of course, knew she could get nothing from Doc, but Gertie expected me to fill her mouth ... as I had done so many times in the short period we'd known each other.
My tongue stabbed deep into Minnie, but brought no response. Minnie had no more come. I cleaned up her vagina, then let my tongue move across her pubic hair, tickling her anus occasionally, and I realized that Gertie had spat out my penis, angry and upset.
Then, we all sat oil the bed.
Gertie looked at Minnie, Minnie at Gertie. Both women had empty mouths. Gertie glared at my penis, lying moist over my scrotum.
"You win, Minnie," she rasped. "I couldn't make the sonofabitch sit up. He's dead, woman, dead."
"Sucked two of them," Minnie said shortly, "and both sitting here without anything in our mouths. How goddamned stupid can two cunts be? We could have dragged in two bums from the street and been filled to the tonsils!"
I'd had enough.
Gertie was the closest. I judo-chopped her across the kidneys from the back, just about where her wide behind joined her thin waist. She screamed and turned, still sitting-and hit me flush on the jaw!
I hadn't expected it. It stunned me. She could really hit. I'd expected my blow to send her skidding off the bed onto the floor. I was ashamed afterward for hitting her. Usually I just slap females. Usually I don't slug them. When you slug them they have black and blue spots to show the bulls. But when you slap them there's no black and blue marks, you know.
My brain reeled. I caught a glimpse of Minnie. She had little Doc down, her breasts dangling, her right knee on Doc's chest, and she was hammering him in the gut, her butt toward Doc's head. Even as I watched, terrified little Doc ran his thumb hard into Minnie's anus.
Minnie leaped as though a red hot iron had been whammed into her colon. She cursed with passionate fervor and clinched with Doc, who tried to escape but was too slow. She got a hammerlock on the poor little fellow.
But I had my hands full of wildcat Gertie. Some wit once wrote that 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' but I changed that to Hell has no fury like a woman unfucked. I've seen happy women, yes, but only after they've taken me to the testicles, either in mouth, anus or vulva, with my tongue or penis exploding them again and again. The only happy female, I believe, is a well-fucked one. They've come to me cross and miserable, hating the world, and after they've had expression after expression, they've changed completely to purring, singing, gleeful females.
And Gertie was mad, real mad. She'd evidently had sexual excitement from Doc's tongue-for Doc was an expert tongueman-but she was mad because I hadn't had an orgasm in her mouth.
Actually, Gertie wasn't really mad at me. She was angry with herself because she'd not made me erect and come!
Does that seem illogical? To me, it doesn't. Gertie was very proud of her sucking prowess. She prided herself on the expertness of her tongue and lips, but she'd not raised an iota on me. She blamed herself, but was venting her spleen-like the poets say-on me as an emotional outlet, and I didn't want to be a pounding block. So I forcibly took her over my knee and pounded her lovely rump with my open right hand.
And, brother, I pounded.
She screeched, screamed, yelled, tried to bite, but I beat her until her ass was shiny and red, and then I pushed her roughly on the floor where she lay moaning and holding her buttocks.
I noticed my thighs were white. During my hammering her, she'd had orgasm after orgasm, brought on by pain. That was only correct ... for Gertie. She loved to be whipped and to whip, and she, Minnie and I had had many a whip session, and always Minnie-big and tough-had proven superior whip.
I grabbed Minnie, who still had a hammerlock on Doc, who screamed for help. Minnie was in the act of running toward the wall. She'd evidently seen wrestlers drag their opponents toward ring posts and, at the last moment, release them and let them beat their brains out when they hit the post.
Doc had his thumb still deep in Minnie's anus, gouging around in hopes of hurting her enough so she'd release him. I grabbed Doc by the hips. His head flew out of Minnie's grip and Minnie flew into the wall.
She hit it belly first-and hard. I saw her huge breasts flatten against the wall. Her nose hit the wall, followed by the rest of her face.
Doc grunted, "Thanks, pal," and jerked from me. One scoot, and he was safe under the bed.
Minnie staggered back from the wall, dazed and stunned. By luck she fell into the overstuffed chair. She just sat there, feeling her nose like she'd suddenly become aware she'd had a schnozzle.
Gertie kept on groaning, hands clutching her buttocks. I dragged her to her feet, pinned her arms behind her. I put a thumb ungently in her ass-hole and fairly lifted her and threw her on her back on the bed.
She spread her legs wide, pulled them back. I saw her lovely vulva and her hair-covered anus. Usually I'd have had a real hard-on because of the body contact and excitement, but my poor old man lay bent over my testicles, dead to the world.
I staggered to a chair, put my head in my hands. Shamelessly, I wept.
2
Tears always get the females. Within a few moments both Minnie and Gertie were consoling me, Gertie's lovely right breast almost in my mouth.
I couldn't stop bawling. I bawled as though I were on a drunk crying jag. Then I hiccupped. It was a hell of a mess.
"We should get him to a doctor," Minnie said.
Doc Mullholland said, "I'm a doctor."
"Doctor of what?" Minnie said scornfully, and added, "With a fake diploma? Doctor of Shit, huh?"
"Thank you," Doc said.
"He should go to a psychiatrist," Gertie said.
"The trouble is in his peter, not in his head," Minnie stated positively. "A headshrinker will do him no good."
"I've got a friend who's a good psychiatrist," Doc said.
Minnie laughed brazenly. "You mean he's good at sucking pricks? He'd have to be, to be a friend of yours."
"You wound me to the quick," Doc said.
I'd had enough. I hiccupped for them all to beat it. Doc went to the door, but the two women said they definitely wouldn't leave me in this condition alone. "You got any guns around? " Minnie asked as Doc sat down again.
"Only what I pack between my legs," I said ironically, "and it's loaded but it won't fire."
"All you talk about is cunt and cock," Gertie said peevishly.
I looked at her, still hiccupping. I saw high fine full breasts with lovely nipples, a lovely dark-skinned face with snapping black eyes and small mouth. Yes, and a thin waist and wide hips and that patch of thick black pubic forest that leveled off just below her navel, hiding her sweet female opening.
Naked, appealing, she stood with right knee bent, looking down at me, smiling, the invitation glistening in her snapping black eyes. Any man would have gotten an erection, even if he were a hundred ... but my penis lay as limp and dead and useless as before. I looked at Minnie.
She, too, stood naked, of course. Her huge hard breasts pushed upward as though trying to drive their nipples into her mouth ... or somebody else's. And above her dark buttons was her face, round and while not lovely still handsome and wholesome, blue eyes watching me, red hair piled high.
And her belly, although not as flat as Gertie's, was appealing and womanly, her hips slightly wider than Gertie's, her patch of womanhood a light blonde, for she was a natural blonde who, foolishly, dyed her hair red-and any man can detect false red hair miles away, you know.
There's just no red natural dye, you know.
And there they were, the two of them, and each begged me to erect, to lance each, one after another, with my magnificent twelve and seven-eighths, but old Twelve and Seven-Eighths didn't care to do any jabbing-not in a female, at least.
Why did I write the last sentence? I'll tell you why. I happened to move my eyes from Minnie to naked little Doc Mullholland, sitting cross-legged in the big chair, eyes thoughtfully on me. And, so help me, it seemed to me that my testicles felt a strange, errant stirring-the way they'd stirred when I'd been ready to erect for female penetration.
And, truthfully, the feeling scared me, making me hiccup even harder and louder, my belly sinking coldly.
Had I turned into a homosexual?
I closed my weary eyes, fighting my thoughts. No, I have nothing against homosexuality-some like it and some don't and those that don't, don't have to do it, you know, or condemn it, either.
I liked homo sessions with Doc. And I'd gone six and nine with a few other guys, friends of mine in high school.
And, while I liked homo, I loved heterosexual.
See the dif? I liked one, but I loved the other. I thought of having natural sex with Minnie.
Big, motherly, comfortable, my Minnie. Yes, I admit she's got a very big box, but I'm a big man in that department-I fill her. When I mount her, she chortles with glee, the synthetic redhead.
She has a habit of raising her legs and catching an ankle in each hand. She then pulls her legs way back and spreads them and watches my penis through the lovely vee.
And I rub my knob against her vulva, feeling the muscles there leap and contract, and so help me she can open her vulva slightly, for she's practiced and developed the muscles there. And my knob goes in, just a little, maybe one-fourth of the way, maybe less, maybe more-and her cunt squeezes my knob, loving it and acting as though it wants to reach out, grab my bulb, and forcibly pull my twelve and seven-eighths into her vagina, there to massage and tug and pull to eventually have my semen ejected deep into her being.
And I go in slowly, for she loves a slow, deep one. She takes my bulb and I feel her shiver in bliss, a small series of gasps breaking from between her clenched teeth as slowly, surely, my long one, big and round and stone-hard, slides in and in, and still in, and then I'm in her to the rocks, her crack under my testicles, the roughness of my scrotum rubbing against her anus as we begin our slow deep fucking, her hips moving back, rotating and pulling, and my hips going in and out, gaining momentum as heat storms my six-foot frame of hard sinew.
I jerked back to the present.
Usually just thinking of doing it to either Gertie or Minnie raises my peter, but not this time.
"Poor Oliver," motherly Minnie cooed. "He's just completely exhausted from his efforts at the Palace. That mean, bitchy High Madame-If I ever get her alone, I'll scratch her eyes out!"
"Knock it off," I growled.
But the two females paid me no attention. "It's all our fault," lovely Gertie said. "We got him into the Palace as a stud, like two fools-when we should have kept him in an apartment for just us two!"
"Oh, christ," I said, and looked at Doc, who sat smoking. I sniffed hay burning; again, Doc tasted of the Mexican weed. My eyes fell on his penis, jabbing its short length up between his crossed legs.
Again, the savage, ugly sexual yearnings. Again, my fear of my turning homo-all homo, no more hetero...
"Look," I said to the two broads. "I've had enough. I know I received a psychic shock when I failed to get a hard-on for the second time running with the High Madame. But that's passed, gone, done with. You girls said you'd set me up in a house, remember?"
"What would be the use?" Gertie asked.
"You can't get an erection," Minnie reminded.
I knotted angry fists, controlling my anger by sheer will power. I deliberately made my voice cold. "You will remember, my two fair bitches, that most of my penetrations in the Palace were made with me wearing a wimpus with a rubber over it-just like all the other studs did after one or two times when first coming on shift."
Which was true. Each stud at the Palace worked an eight-hour shift. Usually he entertained eight females sexually, each buying an hour of his time. Thus he had sixteen hours off, going on his new shift with battery recharged.
A stud was good for two or three ejaculations in his eight-hour turn. Naturally, these usually occurred when he went on duty. It was the duty of the head office to send him during his first three hours his oral penetration cases.
Oral penetration? Well, I'll be blunt and say just simply, cocksucking cases. For when a woman treats a man in her mouth, she naturally expects him to ejaculate into her. Women who suck invariably do so for two reasons: they enjoy having a penis between their lips, but more important, they enjoy tasting and swallowing the man's come.
And if the man is sexually depicted, and has no come-well, the reader has just seen how infuriated and filled with rage were Minnie and Gertie because Doc and I had not shot into their mouths!
"That damn High Madame double-crossed me," I gritted. "She didn't send me my mouth-women first on my shift. She sent them in at the end of my working day, and by then I didn't have a bit of jism left for their mouths!"
"We all know she gave you the shitty end," Minnie said, "but she was mad because she couldn't make you erect the first time you and she went to bed-the day she came to test you as a stud and you couldn't get a hard-on."
"She felt insulted," Gertie explained. "The greatest insult a man can hand a woman is not to get a hard-on when she throws it in his face. Actually, it's an insult to her womanhood, you know."
Again, anger hit me; again, I bodily controlled it. I thought of a palace of phallism for my own. Minnie and Gertie could solicit trade away from the High Madame. I could operate alone-with a wimpus-until the business was big enough to hire another stud.
The economics of the setup appealed to me. Alone and armed with a sturdy wimpus I could entertain ten women a day and maybe bed down an overnighter for double pay.
A female paid seventy-five clams for an hour at the High Madame's expensive, beautiful palace, the stud receiving fifty. Thus the stud stood to earn four hundred bucks per shift, the Palace getting two hundred. And the Palace had at least one hundred studs in beds and thereby earned some twenty grand a day or some six hundred thousand a month, and somebody said sex didn't pay!
I could cut Palace prices to fifty clams an hour and make just as much as when I studded that brief period before again being tested by the High Madame ... and for the second time caught being unable to erect!
I said, diplomatically, "I sure got you girls in a shitty mess."
"You did, no two ways about that," Minnie said. "We can't go out to the Palace any more for sexual attention. We got so mad we burned our cards. Besides, the High Madame passed an order among the guards not to admit us if we came back."
"We raised such hell with her when she treated you so terribly," dark-haired Gertie said. "We depended on you for sex, Oliver, and now so help me you can't begin to get a hard-on!"
"I might have to go back to my husband," Minnie joked.
Gertie snorted. "Mine wouldn't take me back. He's bogging down two of his sees and the mother of one of them too. And maybe some other cunts on the side, for all I know!"
"Mine hasn't done it to me since God knows when," Minnie said, "and I know damn' well he won't start again-not with the harem he's built up."
Doc said, "Poor, fuckless females..." and chortled, the hay taking effect.
Both women gave him hard glances. "I've got a wimpus," I said. "Who's first?"
"I don't like being did with a rubber," Gertie said.
Minnie said, "Or me, either. I like the bare skin in me, and a rubber holds down a man's foreskin-and that going back and forth in me gives me a hell of a big charge!"
"I'll go in bare," I said.
Gertie scowled, "Can it be done with a wimpus without the rubber holding it in place? "
"Try me," I challenged, for I wanted that money for that expensive apartment wherein to start that house of phallism, and these two had the money ... or had the credit to get it.
Also my manhood demanded that both leave my apartment with sexual appetites completely satisfied. A man has to be a man, or a man is nothing!.
"Where is your wimpus?" Minnie asked.
I dug it out of a drawer. I-had, of course, used it regularly at the Palace, for what man can do it to a minimum of eight women in eight hours and still maintain an erection?
All Palace studs wore wimpuses, for a house rule said all studs must, at all times, have had erections.
I had covered my wimpus with a fishskin prophylactic I'd bought from the head stud. Thus most of my clients thought I entered them with a natural erection, which was just what I wanted them to think.
"Let me look at it," Gertie said.
I handed her the wimpus. How many of my readers know what a wimpus is? How many have seen one? Not many, I'll bet.
Usually a wimpus is made of the curved outer wood of a bamboo tree. This wood is shaved off very thin and wimpuses come in different lengths, of course, for all men do not have the same length peters, and a wimpus lies snugly along the bottom of a man's prick, holding it erect at the correct angle.
Some wimpuses today are made of thin stainless steel, curved to nestle below the penis, cradling it and loving it, a wider base resting against the top of a man's scrotum, this being the leverage point that keeps the penis pointed upward at the absolutely correct angle.
When a wimpus is worn without a prophylactic it has to have wide thin flat rubber bands that encircle the man's penis. These bands, of course, hold penis and wimpus as one.
When a prophylactic is used, either fishskin or rubber, no bands are necessary, for the prophylactic bounds the penis and wimpus solidly as one.
When a stud performs anal intrusion he must, of course, wear a prophylactic over his wimpus, for it is difficult to enter a tight female or male anus with rubber bands around one's penis.
When a penis sports a rubber or fishskin, these can be well lubricated and enter an anus-even the tightest-with comparative ease.
Minnie fitted the wimpus below my pecker. "That's no good when a girl wants it in her mouth," she said. "Who cares to suck a cold hunk of bamboo sliver, Oliver? "
I groaned. My Minnie is a great mouth girl. She dotes on the taste of come, which she says is the sweetest nectar made.
"Forget your goddamned mouth a minute!" I stormed. "Do you want to go off, or do you want it up your rectum-or just how the hell do you want it, female?"
"Oliver, Oliver! You talk very rough to one who loves you, darling."
I took the big naked hunk of heavy-breasted femininity in my arms, pulling her against me so hard her big nipples flatten on my hairy chest, giving me rippling sexual sensations that, strangely, die somewhere in the region of my bowels, failing utterly to drift down to my limp penis.
My hands went down, cupping her delightful buttocks, pulling her hard against me, with me praying my penis would respond in hard happiness, the smell of her in my quivering nostrils-the good female smell of clean skin, hair and sex and a light perfume.
Our lips meet, hers hot and demanding, and she grinds her hips against my penis, and still nothing happens. This time utter dismay sags me. We break lips and I said, "I wish to cripes I could die, darling."
"Oliver, you ll snap out of this!"
"If I don't ... " I didn't finish. If I could never erect again I hoped to drop dead. I wonder how many men knock themselves off when they reach the age where they cannot erect?
To me sexual intercourse is the world's greatest pleasure, not to mention the leading indoor sport. . . "Don't talk like that, darling!"
I felt soft hands play with my penis. I became aware of a prophylactic being pulled over my bulb, then unfolded the length of my limber prick.
"Only one thing wrong," Gertie said, my wimpus adjusted and ready for entry. "Who gets it first?"
Minnie broke from my arms. "I do," she said. "I started this." For the first time she noticed my penis had been prophylactic covered. "Who did that?"
"I did, of course," Gertie clipped.
"I was in seventh heaven," Minnie said, "and I always am when Oliver kisses me, and Oliver and I just have to be married some day soon, you know."
I held a shudder. I was engaged to both Minnie and Gertie, although I'd proposed only when one woman had been present, of course. Neither knew I was engaged to the other.
Why had I become engaged to both? Unless I could start a house of phallism-or hold down a regular stud job in one-I'd be a broke ass all my life, something I had no desire to be. As it was, I was broke enough now. I lived on a weekly allowance of one hundred and fifty bucks a month paid jointly by Minnie and Gertie. "One week for you costs only one go at the Palace," Gertie had said, "and I've had six goes with you this week and it's only Friday ... How many have you had with Minnie? "
"Only two," I lied, for I'd laid Minnie eight times since Sunday. "You're much more woman than she is, darling."
"How sweet of you, Oliver?"
And both of these women had money ... or could get money. Unless they set me up in business, I'd undoubtedly be doomed to roam forever broke and depending solely on my aging penis for my livelihood. As my father said when he kicked me out of the house, "You and work have been divorced since your birth, son!"
Now my two women were arguing over who would first receive my joy-prong. I gave the high sign to Doc, a twist of my wrist, and good old Doc took over from there.
"Let's not quarrel, darlings," the quack medico murmured. "Oliver has enough to go around ... when he's wearing his wimpus. Why not flip to see who has first go with him?"
"With whose coin?" Gertie demanded.
Doc's eyebrows rose. "Why, with one of mine, of course. Why did you ask such a question, darling?"
"Minnie's got two coins in her purse. One is both heads and the other both tails."
"Hell," Minnie snorted, "you've got two of the same, you chiseler."
"I don't like being called-"
I got between the two naked housewives, Gertie's breasts pushing my right arm and the big mounds of Minnie punching against my left. "Doc, flip please," I said, "and Minnie, you call it when it's in the air, huh?"
"Tails," Minnie said.
The coin rolled, stopped. Doc bent and peered. "Heads," he said, and Minnie had to look to be convinced. "Okay, Gertie," she said bitterly. "Doc, you going to take pictures?"
"We've got so many movies and stills now the churches are flooded with dirty pictures," Doc said, "not to mention service clubs all over the state."
Dirty pictures gave me a source of income I haven't mentioned. They star my penis and its former ability. Doc took most of them, but I snapped some of him sucking the girls.
Dirty movies once paid a lot, I understand, but they don't pay much any more. Doc says the country's flooded with them, that's why run-prices are so low. But it's a trifle more than cig money for me and Doc.
I looked at Gertie. "How do you want it, honey?"
Gertie pursed her small mouth, red lips thoughtful. I watched those lips, thinking of the times when I'd owned a ramrod stiff prick, and those lips had taken that rigid tool to my testicles, the lips pulling and massaging.
I began to sweat. I thought for sure my sexual heat would erect my penis and I could get rid of the wimpus and rubber. To me screwing through a rubber is, as they say, like washing your feet with your socks on.
"I'll take it natural, darling," my Gertie finally said.
3
Lovely Gertie and I then coupled, but why should I bore my reader with listless details, for we had an ordinary man-woman go with me in the saddle, her legs spread wide and bend back, her lovely rump lifted to receive my thrust.
My wimpus-stiff penis went deep into her oozing vagina, storming the gate of her womb, for with wimpus all my twelve and seven-eights was in active use, of course.
Her moaning began, for Gertie always moans when receiving me, either in proper opening or in anus. Of course, she cannot moan when I utilize her mouth.
My fingers clutched her spreading buttocks, playing along the crack of her behind, my right forefinger occasionally tickling her throbbing anus. Long practice with Gertie and Minnie has taught me how each loves to do it, and I know that my forefinger tickling the anus of Gertie was driving her higher into bliss, for her moaning became a keening whine of ultimate pleasure.
Again and again, she creamed my bound prick, her cunt lips opening and closing, her heels now digging the bed as she lifted her beautiful behind to meet my thrust, my testicles hitting the crack of her with solid, masculine finality.
Then, my knob buried deep, her hips sank down, and she milked me solidly and firmly-but my penis failed to respond one iota despite her warmth and tightness.
I do not know how many women I have entertained in either normal or what society terms abnormal sexual connection, but I do know this: If ever I laid with one more efficient than Gertie in the usual sex position, I do not remember the woman. Gertie is, I feel sure, one of the world's most efficient bed partners.
Suddenly she stiffened, hips pulling down as though she wished to jerk my penis free from my loins, wimpus, prophylactic and all. I knew, then, she was having a violent, soul-shattering orgasm. Accordingly, I quickened my stroke, jabbing down even deeper into the luscious ass below me, my knob hammering against the portal of her womb.
"More, more, more!" she panted, breath scorching my ear. "To the balls, Oliver, my love-the balls, Oliver!"
Her hips writhed under me, lips of her cunt grabbing my penis. I fucked mechanically prodding deep, rising and letting my knob linger in her nether lips, then sending my fishskin-bound penis to the roots again in her oozing, hot cunt.
Usually I, too, would be gasping in passion, but not today. And, strangely, I found myself thinking not of the lovely matron below me but of the lovely, proud High Madame, she of the enormous hard breasts, the small waist and good womanly hips.
Now why did I think of her?
Before starting her Palace of Studs, the High Madame had been a world famous beauty-in fact, a lovely movie actress. Tiring of the camera and publicity, she'd invested her money in her stud farm, and today ruled over her studs with imperial grandeur, seldom mingling with her female clients regardless of how wealthy or socially or politically well-known these clients were.
Occasionally, she tests out a stud, especially a new one. She had, as I have related, tested me twice, with me each time failing to erect. Now, astraddle luscious Gertie, my joy-prong pounding deep in her vagina, my thoughts strayed to the cold-blooded High Madame.
Did I hate her? I must admit I didn't like her, but hate-no, I didn't hate her, but then and there, I wanted to ram my twelve and seven-eighths into her cunt, and give her the rough, tough usual Oliver Torcido hosing.
Why did I want to fuck this lovely, cold creature? The reason, I suppose, was simple-I wanted revenge.
My hips moving up and down, images flashed through my memory. When I had tested for the Palace, I had been installed by the High Madame in a motel-a very luxurious motel.
Red-haired Jackie had tested me for anal penetrating ability, a polite name for cornholing. Something had gone wrong with that test-I think she'd been biased when grading me, according to the High Madame-and I was soon tested again by Millie, who had the biggest set of breasts I do believe I've ever seen.
I passed that test. Then there was May. Ah, lovely, honey-blonde" May, who had fairly leaped into my room. Then, without warning, she had her legs around my neck with me standing there, braced and wondering what the hell, and with her draped down my belly, sucking my penis as if there were no other prick in the whole wide world.
May, needless to say, had once been a circus acrobat. She had timed me while I had bumped her between the breasts, sitting in a ridiculous position astraddle her on my knees, hunched and prodding back and forth like the proverbial bulldog fucking a football.
I'd passed May's test. Next had come dark-haired Paula, who'd gone on hands and knees, stop watch in hand as she'd timed me to see how long it would take me to ejaculate, my penis not in her anus or joy-box but brushing in and out between her tightly-held thighs, for Paula said some women were afraid of V.D. or getting pregnant and many times asked a stud to fuck them between the breasts, under an armpit or between the thighs, as I had just done to Paula.
I'd passed Paula's test, too. Yes, and with flying colors I'd passed the testing of tiny French Annette, who had had me lap her luscious tender box. Then had come my sixth female, Olivia, who would test me in normal fashion, with me astraddle her, penis in her cunt, in Adam-Eve fashion.
Ah, what a beauty, blue-eyed and blonde and naked
Olivia!
Now the cold voice of Gertie cut into my thoughts with, "He's not fucking as good as usual. Get your mind and your ass on your job, Oliver!"
I came back to earth with a start. "You blasted off damn' soon," I said angrily. "Don't lay the blame on me if you're not woman enough to have another orgasm!"
She slapped me on the cheek, hard. And when I said cheek, I didn't mean my face, either. My left buttock tingled. I reared up, my penis sliding free; with my right hand, I belted her along the side. I knocked her from the bed.
She fell yelping on her back on the floor, legs up and wide, with me looking down at her oozing cunt, her pubic hair all white with her own come. Then, she leaped up, long nails poised. She started for me, but Minnie rocked in, big and solid, and fairly dragged her away, with Gertie spewing curses back at me.
Doc sat on the edge of his chair, watching carefully, limp pecker draped in softness over his small, hair-covered scrotum.
"You asked for it!" Minnie snapped, arms around Gertie's middle. "I'd have hit you, too, if I'd been a man."
"Calm down, Gertie," Doc said. "He loves you or he wouldn't have hit you!"
"Love me ... hits me?" Gertie stared at the quack. "You-you're nuts, you fraud." Her dark eyes swept back to me, then suddenly softened. "I was mean, Oliver. You do love me, don't you?"
"With all my heart, darling."
Minnie kissed Gertie on the snatch and stood up. "That's better. Lovers should never quarrel. My turn now." She came forward, high breasts bobbing, hips rising, falling, her pubic hair thick, to stop beside my bed. Without thinking, I went on one elbow, my head shooting out, and I kissed and licked her privates, my tongue just momentarily entering her cunt in teasing manner.
"Asshole job," she said, and got on her hands and knees, rump reared upward, crack sagging open to show her clean anus.
Doc reached over to the dresser. He then threw me an uncapped jar of Vaseline. I carefully lubricated my prophylactic, my cock resting in her crack.
I left a gob on my knob and then I greased Minnie's anus completely, putting some Vaseline even inside. I knew, from past experience, that she'd take me easily, despite my huge penis, for lord knows how many times I've driven it to the testicles into her rectum.
I put my knob against her anus, ready to make entry. And she said suddenly, "I've changed my mind, Oliver. I want it in my box."
I sighed, hiding anger. "For Christ's sake, make up your mind!" I snapped. "Why didn't you say so in the first place and save me all this greasing?"
"I like to feel your finger in my ass-hole," she said unashamedly, "and besides, I'm a little sore just inside my anus ring from our last session, and you can put salve on it easier than I can!"
"I shouldn't even screw you," I said.
"And I shouldn't be putting thousands into your opening a stud house," she said shortly.
"Who asked you for money?" I countered.
"You did."
She had me. I had asked. I had my knob over her cunt, now. To be mean, I bulled into her, my wimpus-steady prong jabbing up and in hard and swift and deep.
She yelped, but it was not a cry of pain. Instead, she cried in pure happiness, asking me to take my horn out and do it again, just as roughly and just as angrily.
"I won't do it," I said. "I don't want to make you happy."
She reached back between her legs. She intended to tweak my balls. She'd tweaked them before when she'd been angry-and she hadn't twisted very easily.
Hurriedly, I jerked back. I jerked back so far my penis fell from her opening. She couldn't reach my testicles. Her hand fell. I rammed my knob hard and fast into her rectum, just to be mean.
I hit her as hard as a bull whacks a hot cow, his hot red prick extended. One moment my knob was in the free air. The next, it was deep in her rectum, my balls hammering her ass-hole.
Again, she screeched. This time, though, she didn't yell in happiness. Her shriek held pure, unadulterated pain.
"My God-my ass-hole ... Oliver, my ass-hole's on fire, you sonofabitch. I'm going to kill you if it's the last-"
Her buttocks wriggled violently as she fought to shed my penis. I clung to her waist, holding her hips back hard against my belly. Thus, I kept my penis in her, balls still buried in her crack.
She wriggled, lunged ahead, then back, but I held her tight. Her ass-hole opened and closed in her anger, as though hoping to cut my penis in two, wimpus and fishskin and all.
She reached back, hoping to tear my testicles from me, but I had both balls hard against her open crack, and she couldn't reach them. She was helpless. She put her head on her folder arms, her synthetic red hair spilling.
"Go ahead, you bastard," she said dully.
I still held her buttocks in a solid grip. I knew her. She might suddenly go wild again. She might be just acting. Slowly but surely, my penis began moving in and out of her anus, and again she cried but this time her cry held happiness.
"Oliver, that's wonderful, darling! Way deep, Oliver, and straighten out my colon, sweetheart. Oh, oh, oh, how wonderful, honey!"
"You were going to kill me, remember?"
"That was a while ago, not now. You know, I had an orgasm-a big one. You're not even in my cunt, but your prick rubs through my colon against my vagina and-oh, oh, there I go again, sweet!"
I looked down at my penis, out of her except for its clinging knob. My safety had been smeared with her white when I'd rudely hammered it into her rectum. Now with this white was Vaseline and brown streaks.
"I want to suck something," I heard Gertie say.
"Well, I'm here," Doc said.
From the corner of an eye I saw Doc on his back on the floor, Gertie over him on all fours, head pointing toward his feet as she sucked his penis. Doc pulled her hips down. I heard his lips begin to slobber.
Doc's sucking became blended with the sound of my penis sliding in and out of Minnie's anus, and over these two sounds were the noises of Gertie's lips and the soft animal moaning of big Minnie.
Again, I fornicated by sheer rote, using the same dead monotony of a kid reciting his multiplication tables. Again, for some reason, there floated into my memory the vision of the beautiful High Madame, naked and with huge full breasts.
I had not known, at first, she was the High Madame. Indeed, upon entering my motel room she'd introduced herself merely as Olivia, and she'd said she'd come to test me in penis-vagina, this being the last test on my agenda.
Now, pushing and pulling, my penis entering and leaving Minnie's lovely anus, I silently cursed both Minnie, Gertie and Doc, and why did I curse my three tried and true friends?
Because they'd had a party with me just a few minutes before the High Madame's arrival, and they had sucked what little juices out of me there had been-so when I tried to mount the lovely High Madame, my penis refused to assume even the faintest vestiges of an erection.
It had hung limp, dead, hopeless. I'd tried to force it into the lovely Olivia by sheer pressure, seeing a possible stud-job going down the drain, a half-million bucks bubbling away. I guess I got rough ... too rough.
The first thing I had known was that she tossed me over her head in best wrestler style, for she.d been a female wrestler for a while, I later learned. I landed on my back, my sacroiliac had sprung out and-
"Are you having a nice nap?" Minnie sarcastically asked.
I discovered I was draped over Minnie's full buttocks, my penis lying idle in her anus. Hastily, I began pumping feverishly again.
"I don't understand you," Minnie said.
Her anus didn't open and close now. My penis just penetrated a dead space. Evidently she was thinking.
"What has happened to you, darling?"
"Can it," I growled, "and start activities!"
Instantly, her anus began opening and closing, wrapping itself solidly around my limp penis. Soon she began her low moaning again, reveling in sexual pleasure. And, so help me, damned if I didn't start thinking about that damned High Madame again!
So I'd been given a chance at the Palace because the Palace was expanding by building new cribs and, of course, needed a batch of young studs, and Minnie and Gertie had got me another chance. Of the five finalists for the regular job I'd finished las', much as it breaks my heart to report that!
So, at the Palace, I'd gone through my two weeks or so of probationary work, and word had got around that the High Madame was testing each new stud in person, and it would be up to her to select the studs who made the grade. Remember, I'd not then known that Olivia had been the High Madame under a different name.
And who ambles into my crib, naked and curvaceous, but my old friend Olivia, and immediately my sacroiliac had begun to ache, but she'd bought the last hour of my working day under an assumed name, and she had wanted an Adam-and Eve, which means normal sex, the man on top of the woman.
Now Minnie said crossly, "You're slowing down again, Oliver, and I want one big sweet orgasm, and then we quit. But I can't have that orgasm unless you really hit me hard and deep, darling."
"Okay," I said.
"My, but you are listless today, honey."
I whammed it into her, hammering my balls against her crack, my bulb going deep into her. She started opening and closing again, trying to wrest my penis from me. And, so help me, once again I thought of that High Madame.
And here I was once again with luscious blonde Olivia ... and once again I couldn't erect, for it had been a hard, long, penetrating day with four mouth jobs, and these, of course, had sucked all my white manhood out.
Nevertheless, I again tried manfully. I spread Olivia's beautiful legs, rocked them back, and stared at her female passage, small and lovely in its nest of blonde forest, her clean and shiny anus below it.
And although I thought cock, my prong just refused to stand up. Nonetheless, again I tried to mount her, as I'd done in that hotel, and again I rammed my limp penis against her opening, and I guess I again hurt her.
The same thing happened again. A brief, short struggle, her one-fifteen against my one-ninety, and my one-ninety again flew through the air in a wrestler's mare, or whatever it's called. And again I landed hard on my back on the floor, the wind jarred out of me, my back on fire from my dislocated sacroiliac.
"Good jeesus, Oliver, are you going to sleep on me, man!
Again, I was jerked back to the present. I realized I'd not stopped but had slowed down to a punching walk. Again, my hips took up the old rhythm, her anus sucking around my fishskin.
Then she'd summoned the guards to throw me out and, as they gave me the old heave-ho, she'd laughingly informed me that she was not Olivia but the High Madame, and the last I'd seen of her was a backward glimpse at my crib door where she stood, breasts punching out and up.
Minnie, Gertie and Doc had summoned their chiropractor, who had put my discs back into place. And here I was, with Doc sucking Gertie on the floor, with Gertie's beautiful hairdo going up and down over Doc's penis, and me on the bed with the big broad healthy butt of Minnie before me, my penis sliding in and out of her anus.
Minnie asked, "Are you getting a hard-on, lover?"
I had to tell the truth. "What has come over you?" the good-hearted big soul wondered. "I do believe I shall send over my psychiatrist. Would thai be okay with you?"
"Okay, but he can do nothing."
"One never knows until one tries. Oh, darling, here I go again-hit me with all you got, honey. I just love to feel your balls smash into my crack!"
I hammered her butt hard, going in and out very rapidly. Doc looked up between Gertie's spread legs and smiled, and I smiled back. Doc then ran his tongue around Gertie's little anus and Gertie grunted and sucked him harder. Doc then closed his eyes, moved his head under Gertie deeper, and began ladling come from her, using his tongue as a spoon.
"Oh, oh," Minnie chortled.
And she came. I had one hand below, index finger up. You may not believe this, but I felt her come hit my fingers. I pulled my finger out after circling it inside her box. It was white and I licked her come off, marveling again at its sweetness. I've tasted my share of female come in my twenty-one years but I still say I've never tasted any as sugary sweet as Minnie's.
Her buttocks gave their final revolutions and she said, "You may take it from me now, darling. I do believe my vagina will rest content for a day or so. You certainly know how to make an anal entrance, sweet."
I withdrew my penis slowly, my pecker lying limp on my wimpus. Her anus closed behind my prong.
Suddenly, she went into sharp activity.. She pivoted and before I knew what was happening she had me on her back, my penis in her mouth. Her head went violently up and down, matching the head of Gertie who still worked in futility over Doc's penis.
"Oh, how good, Oliver."
I lay back, eyes closed. I felt her tongue circle my knob, lick the fishskin clean, starting at my bulb and working back to my testicles. Her tongue tickled me through the sensitive skin but brought no erection.
She finished by running her tongue around my anus, the tip just entering slightly. Then, she leaned over me, and I saw her lips were brown and white. "Want some?" she challenged.
"Why not?"
Her lips met mine. Just before we kissed solidly, my tongue moved around her lips, licking the white and brown from them. The white tasted sweet but the brown was bitter. Then, her tongue was against mine.
Her tongue was laden with brown and white. She swished this into my mouth, then whispered, "Now put it back into mine. Let's swish it back and forth and each swallow just a teeny bit each time until it's all gone?"
We did that, her breath hot on my cheek. Doc and Gertie still were in a six and nine, but now Doc was on top jabbing his hips down, his nose buried in Bertie's anus. Goth slopped noisier, now.
I wondered if Gertie was having any luck. Discreetly, I glanced at Doc's penis, sliding in and out of her red lips. Doc's penis was as limp as when exercises had started; indeed, it was as limp as mine, if not limper.
That made me feel better. Misery still loves company, you know. Minnie's lips lingeringly leaving mine brought me to reality.
"'I'm angry, Oliver."
Without thinking I said, "Is there a woman in the world who isn't?"
Her lips hardened. "You do hate us women now, don't you though? Maybe your hate has become so strong you cannot erect around a female? Maybe you need a man to suck you or take you in his anus?"
I noticed Doc sent me a quick glance, momentarily forgetting to tongue Gertie. Doc had an eye for business ... always.
"Knock it off," I said, "or I'll knock it off you, female! I've been fed enough shit for one day, savvy?"
"Well, I'm not getting my money's worth, Oliver."
"Then go to the High Madame and the Palace."
"You know I can't do that. Gertie can't either. We tore up our membership cards when you got thrown out."
"You can get new ones. That High Madame is money mad. All you have to do is ask for them. You still both own stock in the Palace. Stockholders have the right to enter their own properties, you know."
"I'll not crawl on my hands and knees, Oliver."
This argument was getting nowhere, but what argument ever reached results when a woman was involved?
"You don't need to crawl. A phone call would get your card back." I caught myself. I was arguing against my cause. My only hold over these two semi-wealthy females was through sex. Through my mouth on their cunts. Through my penis in their rectums or up their vaginas. With their mouths wrapped around my long, big, tough, rigid penis.
Rigid, did I say? And tough? Not now...
"I'll talk to the point," Minnie said shortly. "I came here expecting to suck you and get a mouth full of you, but your prick refuses to stand. Gertie can do nothing with it, either."
"I'm not feeling well." This was no lie. My belly was sick with fear that I'd lose my two easy meal-tickets because of a limp penis.
"Have you seen a doctor?"
"Only Doc, there."
"He's no doctor. He's a fake. I mean a real medical doctor." "No."
"Then my psychiatrist must see you. This psychiatrist is also a medical doctor." She swished her mouth, searching for another trace of her come. I'll call you in the morning and tell yo"u what time, Oliver."
I couldn't escape. "Okay, darling."
Doc and Gertie suddenly broke. Gertie sat cross-legged and hammered Doc on the stomach, and he tried to get away but couldn't. I grabbed her and hauled her to her feet.
"What the hell you doing?" I demanded.
"The sonofabitch!" she ranted. "I sucked and sucked and he never came a drop!"
Doc rolled to safety. He wiped his mouth with his bare forearm and put in his dental plates, which he always takes out when he has sex. He began clicking them-a sharp, irritating sound. I told him to stop. My nerves had had enough ... if not too much.
"I'm tired," I said. "I hate to rush you girls, but I do need rest. They worked my tail off at the Palace."
"Not your tail," Gertie corrected acidly, "but your cock." She stopped at the door, naked Minnie standing behind her. She put her hand on the knob. "Tomorrow I hope you feel like really loading me down, Oliver."
"I hope so too," I said.
She opened the door, started to step outside, but Doc clicked his teeth, got them in the right position, and said, "Don't you think you've forgotten something, girls?"
Minnie looked at Gertie, who looked inquiringly at Minnie, and both looked down at their handbags over their forearms.
"What the shit you mean, Doc?" Gertie demanded. Doc again clicked his plates. "No dif to me," he said, "but both of you girls are going out into the hall naked. "Oh, piss," Minnie said, and blushed.
4
The angry girls hurriedly dressed and left, still smarting because they'd not received proper sexual attention. I sat naked on my bed, staring at the floor. Doc, also nude, sat in his chair.
Suddenly I heard the sharp click of Doc's dentures.
I looked up. Doc stared at my penis. I knew instantly what was on his mind. I looked at his buttocks, spread over the seat of his chair.
His buttocks were slightly hairy and looked very inviting. I thought of his anus, brown and clean, nestling between those buttocks, and I began to get an erection.
Doc also was erected, his little penis standing upright in short glory, foreskin draped over its little knob.
"You've got a hard-on," I said, uselessly. But it was conversation, you know.
"And you're getting an erection, Oliver."
"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you," I said. "When the four of us worked together your prick stayed limp. When you jazzed Gertie you still couldn't get a hard-on."
"Neither could you get an erection in the square," Doc pointed out. "But you've sure got one now, brother. Your prick is fighting to get out of that fishskin and breathe fresh air."
"I'll take it off."
Carefully, I unpeeled the delicate fishskin, for it had set me back one hundred clams at the Palace of Phallism. Soon my penis was naked, cradled only by the wimpus, which I also discarded to allow my dong to surge upward in complete twelve and seven-eighths glory.
"Christ," I said. "Look at the sonofabitch!"
Doc shifted his top denture. "A very masculine, appealing vision," he breathed. He wet his mouth, eyes riveted on my surging member.
Sudden fear hit me, curdling my guts. "Doc, have I gone homo, all homo?"
"Perhaps. What would be wrong with that?"
"Hell, man, blab sense, please! Minnie and Gertie were going to back me for a house of studs, fellow. I'd have a whole retinue of studs, like the High Madame."
"I don't get your point, darling."
"How can I start out if I can't get an erection around a woman and only can get a hard-on around a man?"
"Start a house for the men, sweetheart."
I stared. "I think I know what you mean, Doc, but maybe you'd best elaborate, please?"
Doc's plan was simple. Start a house where homosexual males were guests, not sex-hungry women. My brows knitted, as the Victorian novelists say. Had such a house ever been tried?
"I heard of one once in upstate new York," Doc said, "but I never saw it or went there. Hell, I was just a kid, and got plenty of homo in high school. But that's the only one I've ever heard of, honey."
"The girls would never back me for that," I said. "They want a house where females come so they can try out the boys. They're looking forward to trying out each gink who wants to stud in my house. They'll be the Evaluation Committee, as Minnie calls it."
Doc moved over. He sat beside me on the bed, his thigh against mine. His eyes met mine, he clicked his bottom plate this time, and he dug my ribs with his thumb, a trait he had when agitated.
Our eyes held. Silence fell.
Then, I found his penis in my hand. My penis already was in his hand, for my fake medical friend wastes no time where sex is concerned ... sex with another male, that is. . .
Doc began skinning my foreskin up and down over my huge knob. I returned the compliment, his foreskin sliding easily over his tiny bulb.
Doc breathed deeply. "What a beautiful life, Oliver..." He didn't finish. My hungry, hot lips saw to that. We kissed with great fervor, his tongue invading my mouth as he sank over on his back with me lying across his heaving chest.
Our lips broke and he patted my cheek, smiling softly. "We never have had much luck at six and nine, have we now, darling?"
"I'm too tall," I said, "or you're too short."
That was true. When Doc and I coupled six and nine my torso was so long I had to lie with a crook in my back so his short body could encompass the distance from my penis to my mouth.
The position was very hard for me to assume because of my six-foot even, so we usually worked independently with each of us satisfying the other's wants and he then satisfying the sexual demands of his companion.
"Who's first?" Doc murmured.
His legs were spread and pointing upward. He lay in the position a woman assumes when she goes Adam-Eve. Accordingly, I moved my left knee, putting it down behind his buttocks, and then my right knee followed, my penis dragging over his rigid erection as I got behind him on my knees, my penis in my hand as I directed it toward his anus.
My heart hammered loudly. Hot blood raced in my veins. He smelled of male aroma, of tobacco, of shaving lotion. I liked his smell much better than the soft female aroma of Minnie, or Gertie.
His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell with fast breathing, his belly going in and out. The thought came that he, too, suffered because I had been booted as a failure from the Palace of Phallism.
For Doc had been the Palace doctor. He's inspected each new stud for possible venereal disease. He had also given each new female applicant a physical examination. "Any fool can take blood for a Wasserman," he said. "You don't need a medical degree to hold down this job."
Foolishly, Doc had quit his job out of loyalty to me, just as Minnie and Gertie had indignantly withdrawn from the Palace upon my being booted out, and I do mean booted!
Now Doc was broke. He had his room rent paid for two weeks. What lay ahead after two weeks? Only one thing. He'd have to move in with me unless he made a homosexual connection, but this seemed illogical for he was too old, as he said, 'for marriage.'
And Oliver Torcido? Where did he stand? What if Minnie and Gertie, disgusted because I couldn't erect around them decided to stop paying me my weekly salary? I'd soon be where Doc now was ... financially.
Doc opened his eyes. I remained poised over him, penis jutting. "You're thinking again, Oliver," he accused, "and when one thinks he doesn't want to fuck, you know. Let us give way, my friend, to a moment of wildness, and shove all sane thoughts from our minds?"
I grinned. "Okay, pal."
"I want it in my rectum first," Doc said, "and then before you go off, put it in my mouth. I shall then dine on your sweet nectar, my love, and you later shall consume mine at my short banquet table. Are we off to the races?"
"Lubricant, Doc?"
He shook his head. "No oil, please, husband. Hit me with all the force your manly, hips possess. Ram it into me hard and fast to your testicles. Ah, I feel your knob, pulsating with manhood, at the entrance of my rectum.
"You have it centered right, my love. I shall try to open my anus slightly so you can enter your tip just a little, but even if I could open it wide I couldn't encompass your complete knob.
"Your knob is too big. It will take ramming force to drive it into my-"
My forward driving lunge broke short his sentence. He screamed in delicious pain as, with sharp swiftness, my penis rammed into his anus, scraping hard on the tender skin surrounding the anal ring.
Then, I was in him to my rocks...
His mouth clicked shut. He smiled at me happily. "You tore some little blood vessels," he said, "because I can feel a trace of blood on your penis. By the way, I'd best rid myself of these ungainly dentures, you know.
"I've never bit a cock in my life and hope never to, for I do control myself well in sexual passion do I not, lover?"
I merely nodded, penis sliding in and out of his anus. His anus ring was lubricated now by the material that had been in his colon and had been pierced by my penis.
Doc removed his dentures and set them on the bedside table. I continued humping, and, once again my thoughts, for some reason, returned to the High Madame, and I imagined having my prong up her rectum.
I have seen lovely buttocks in my life, but never had I seen an ass as lovely as that of the lovely High Madame. Now, riding my friend Doc, my penis tight in his small anus, I imagined I was astraddle the naked High Madame, my prong up her rectum.
Doc had his eyes closed, and I closed mine. Again I saw the High Madame in all naked splendor, tripping toward my bed at the Palace, her proud breasts solid and pointing, her pubic hair blonde and dense in her lovely crotch. The thought came that perhaps I'd not been able to erect because her beauty scared me and had rendered me temporarily impotent?
By sheer effort, I jerked my mind from her lovely nude vision. I was going nuts over her. My entire body demanded I seduce her. And for why? I now wondered, laboring over little Doc's heaving buttocks.
Revenge?
Yes, perhaps ... twice she'd shamed me where it hurt the most-in my manhood. Twice through her damnedable judo she'd heaved me to the floor, each time tearing my spine out of shape.
Why couldn't I get an erection around Minnie or Gertie? Was it because my rough, humiliating treatment at the hands of the High Madame had, unconsciously perhaps, turned me toward hating all females?
Such things had happened. I'd heard and read. I remembered a friend of mind had shacked up with a slim little redhead who inside of a year was so fat she waddled when she walked, and he had stopped hosing her for, to him, a fat woman was as he put it 'a terrible, sloppy poor fuck.'
He and the redhead had then fought, and I mean bodily-fists, knives, clubs. For a year she'd followed him, making his life miserable, before he finally got rid of her. But when she'd left, he'd been impotent.
She'd taught him to hate her sex so much he couldn't erect around a female. I was in the same boat. Had the High Madame's rough treatment of me made me turn against the female sex?
Doc opened his eyes. "For cripes' sake, Oliver, you're going soft in me, baby doll! When you fuck, pal, never think. Just give yourself over to the joy of the moment, doll!"
Doc was indeed correct. My prick was growing soft, even though Doc's anus grabbed and pulled, exerting more energy than my hand does when I pull it off, which I sometimes do when I wake up with a morning hard, if no female or male is around to share my pride with me.
"Tell me when you're ready to go," Doc said, "because I want to prepare my mouth for my fiesta, darling."
"I'll tell you, sweetheart."
I lowered myself over the small, panting, masculine body, cupping his buttocks as a man does a woman's, and began plying my blade in earnest, making that damned High Madame stay out of my mind. And, due to Doc's friction and my pounding, my penis was soon at the point.
When I go off, I feel the first stirring deep in my bowels, strange as it seems. The heat grows there, congeals, and moves forward, driving bliss through my throbbing sinews until, at last, my testicles act, shooting my sperm in jetting harshness. And I was at this point now.
"Okay, lover," I gasped.
Doc went into instant action. His speed at this change was. miraculous. One shrug, one upward pull, and my penis left his anus. His small body pivoted, using his hips as a pivotal point, and then he had his toes in my face ... and my penis was deep in his sweet, pulling mouth!
I caught one good glimpse of my penis before it disappeared to the stones in his mouth. The surface was streaked with brown and with this brown were a few tiny flecks of red, for I had ruptured a few tiny vessels when I'd made the abrupt and savage entry Doc had demanded.
I rolled on my back, Doc going over with me to sit astraddle my flanks, head rising and falling as he bobbed over my penis. He sat directly on my belly. He farted suddenly, as he many times does under sexual excitement.
And when Doc Mullholland farts ... Doc Mullholland farts! Loud, clear, ringing-and not like perfume. But what is a little bad odor when one is wrapped in hot, red sex with one's pistol about to fire?
And mine was ready to blast into Doc's feverish mouth. I stared at his anus, pointing directly toward my face, the gaping hole now slightly red tinged with brown, for indeed a few minor blood vessels had been broken.
I'd doctor them up with antisceptic when we were finished, as I'd done many times before. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to his sucking. Now, instead of my being behind the lovely buttocks of the High Madame, she was in Doc's position with my penis hammering her tonsils.
"Suck, baby, suck!"
Who'd said that? The words had sounded strained, distant. I realized, then, I'd spoken them. But I'd not spoken them to Doc, laboring hard over my rigidity. They'd been addressed toward the High Madame.
"Here I come, darling! Suck, suck, suck, honey!"
My voice again shriller this time. And then, my testicles spoke. My sperm whipped forward, launched into Doc's mouth. And now Doc's lips became stronger than ever, pulling as though they wished to tear my penis out of my crotch, testicles and all.
I found myself grabbing Doc's buttocks, my right thumb in his anus. So great was my passion, I spilled and spilled into his mouth my hips rising and falling in short, hard jabs as my penis went deeper into his wet throat.
And then, my testicles were momentarily depleted.
I lay breathing heavily, bouncing little Doc up and down on my heaving belly, and sanity returned. My hips were now still. Doc gave my penis a last loving tug and let it drop where it lay lifeless over my balls. He twisted his head and looked back at me.
"Good one, sweetheart?"
His voice was choked. That was only logical. His mouth was brimful of my come.
"Couldn't be better," I managed to say.
He swished my come. "You want a bit, maybe?"
I knew what he wanted. He wanted to kiss and, during the kiss, he'd push some of my white into my mouth.
I didn't like the taste of my come. I never had since the first time a woman sucked me and demanded she kiss me and give me some of myself. I do not bear that antipathy toward the come of another man or woman, though. Perhaps it is because it just doesn't seem right that I should swallow something that came from my own body.
"You need it all," I joked, "because you've lost weight lately."
He had, indeed. He missed the Palace's splendid balanced-diet meals, and I also missed them. I ate out some and bached other meals, but I leave much to be desired as a cook.
He slowly, carefully, swallowed my whiteness, eyes closed and head back, savoring each droplet that trickled, grudgingly, down his throat. A whiteness rimmed his mouth. He carefully licked this away, then smiled.
"All gone, darling. Now it's your turn."
He lay on his back, penis jabbing upward. My mouth has held much bigger things even in the line of wieners. His dong definitely was not bologna size. My mouth took it without stretching a bit.
Should I bore my reader with further details? Should I tell him-or her-how I pulled from small Doc Mullholland, medical fraud and charlatan, his white man-fluid, and shall I disclose that I found this fluid sweet and satisfying to my taste?
I can assure my reader of one thing: Even if I practice all my life and live to be ninety I'll never be efficient in bed with another man as Doc Mullholland is at around forty-five.
For Doc is a genius at this line of happy toil.
Nevertheless, I always try to give Doc-and my other male friends-the best that is in me. Therefore I loved Doc's shortness with all of my limited talent and when his sperm sprang eagerly into my mouth I tasted of it and found it good, and he wanted to share it with me, so that we did by kissing long and ardently with my tongue pushing some of Doc's own come into his eagerly waiting jaws.
There was in me, though, no shouting glee, for the thought had come that never again would I relish sex with a woman in normal fashion, for I had read about men suddenly turning homosexual.
This I did not want. To suddenly change to homosexual would disrupt all my plans for some day being the rich owner of a palace of phallism. Nevertheless, I mulled over
Doc's idea of starting a homosexual house where males came to other males for homosexual treatment. The angle might have strong points.
Doc swallowed the last of his come. "I think you are thinking too much, my friend," he said, pulling on his sock. "That High Madame-apparently she's become a psychic issue with you because of the way she treated you?"
"She couldn't raise a hard on me," I said simply. "That's a reflection on a man's manhood, is it not? Especially to a man who has pointed since boyhood toward becoming a stud?"
"You must consider the circumstances, Oliver." Doc pulled on his other sock and stood up, reaching for his shorts.
"I have."
"Let us review the facts, please, from an analytical point of view, Oliver. May I have the floor, please? " "You've got it."
"Let us closely evaluate facts. You were put on test by the Palace. You underwent each of the five sexual tests except the last where you were expected to mount the High Madame in Adam-Eve fashion."
I could only nod, for this was repetition.
"But you couldn't mount her, so you flunked and you got mad and she dumped you and you sprung your sacroiliac. But why did you fail in this test?"
"Simple, Doc. I couldn't get a hard-on."
"And you couldn't erect because just before the High Madame's visit you and the girls and I went into a square, and when the High Madame came a few minutes after the girls and I left, your balls were as depleted as my bank account.
"So why blame yourself, Oliver? Blame me and the girls, if you have to blame anybody!"
"I can't blame you three, Doc. You three are the only friends I have in the world, and the best. I blame myself for being such a goddamned fool as to go into the square with you when I knew I'd soon be tested again."
"Okay, well let that ride." Doc pulled on his slacks, zippered, buckled his belt. "Now you are at the Palace, having got in on a break. And what happens? "
"I got all the sucking cases. All the women I got from the front office wanted to suck, not fuck. And a man has only two or possibly three charges in an eight-hour shift, if that many after he'd been a stud for the days I studded and never had a day of rest."
I'd spoken truth. Undoubtedly many of my male readers are snickering, thinking it impossible that a man could get tired of sexing eight women a day, but these readers should try studding for the time I stuck with it, day after day, without a day off.
They wouldn't snicker, then.
Doc sat down, pulling on his shoes. "Yes, you got the mouth cases. You have to have an ejaculation for each one, too, or the woman won't be satisfied. That's logical, pal.
"For a female wants a male penis in her mouth for one thing; she wants the come. And if the man has no jism, then naturally the female receives none orally, and she is disappointed for she hasn't received what she paid good money for."
Doc was correct. The Palace's front office had apparently ganged up on me, and I don't know why-except for perhaps my trying to rough up the High Madame when she tested me and I failed? But, hell, I hadn't know, then, that she had been the High Madame, for she introduced herself only as Olivia.
"Well, that's the case, Oliver." Doc squinted into the mirror, adjusting his tie, his bald head shining. "Naturally, two failures-both with females-left some form of psychic scar. For example, what if you tried it with two men and your penis hung limp, and you could do nothing?"
I nodded, not trusting words.
"You'd feel the same toward men, Oliver. This will pass. Time will erase the scar. You'll soon be riding either Minnie or Gertie in high glory, ramming it to them and making them squeal, the two lovable chippies!"
"How do you know I will? " I challenged.
He slipped in his dentures, fitted them. "I've seen it happen once before."
"You?"
He clicked his dentures, fitting them exactly. "No, a friend of mine. He went sour on females. Three bad marriages. Then he went homo, but he didn't stay homo long. Within two weeks he was back on the women, using men only on the side occasionally."
"Hell, that had to be you?"
Doc bowed, ready for the street. Clean-shaven, neatly suited, shirted, neck tied, shoes polished, trousers with a knife-edge crease.
"No, darling, it was not Mr. Mullholland. I, my friend, was born homo, shall live homo, shall die homo-and I want a homosexual preacher to preach my funeral service."
"There are plenty, they tell me."
He touched my bare shoulder lightly. "I shall not spend the night with you, as you see. I think you need to be alone and meditate, which is good for the soul they tell me.
"Tomorrow the psychiatrist will come, so treat the person kindly, as is due one professional person to the other."
"Professional? What profession have I got? "
Doc smiled, twirling his cane. He opened the door. "You, my boy, are a professional cocksman, and a good one."
The door closed and he was gone.
5
Six o'clock next morning I clutched my robe tighter around my big frame and glared sleepily down at the lovely small red-haired stranger who stood in the hall, smiling up at me.
"I'm Jo," she said.
"I'm glad to meet you, Jo," I gallantly said, blinking my eyes, for this animal was really a lovely. "I'm Oliver Torcido. You've got the wrong apartment."
"No, I haven't, Oliver. Minnie sent me."
"Minnie who?"
"Oh, your Minnie, of course. I'm her psychiatrist."
Psychiatrist? My eyes flopped open, sleep all gone. "Come in, Jo," I said, opening the door wide and, so help me, I was so startled I bowed and made a sweeping gesture, like they do in those cloak-and-sword movies.
And Jo trips in, all five-two of her, all one-hundred-and-eight of her, sleek and chic with a tight skirt that lies flat and hard across her full buttocks and hugs her tiny waist like it was glued there.
Then, Jo turned. She wore a white blouse with a frilly neck and that blouse stood out in two places like twin torpedoes were housed there, pointing at the enemy, ready to fire. "Yes, I'm Minnie's analyst, Oliver."
"You're kidding," I gasped.
Her smile showed dazzling white teeth, all her own. "What do you mean, Oliver?"
"You're not a head shrinker. Minnie's jobbing me."
"I have my diploma in my purse. Do you wish to see it?" She unsnapped a handbag big enough to carry a half-gallon of whisky in.
"No, no," I hurriedly said, eyes still on that breastwork as I took her bag from her and laid it on a chair. "I'll take your word. Do you call on all your patients at this ungodly early morning hour, Doctor Jo?"
She smiled sweetly. "Only on special people who are friends of a dear friend of mine like Minnie. Minnie thinks very highly of you. Besides, I was on my way to my office."
I nodded mechanically, still eying those breasts. Did I see the faint outline of lovely nipples pushing against the sheer silk blouse? I indeed did, and I realized she wore no bra.
She studied me with serious green eyes. "You're indeed a huge, handsome young man, Oliver Torcido, and I can see why Minnie is fascinated with you, but Minnie told me you fail to erect."
So help me, I blushed. The statement had come very abruptly. She'd caught me off-guard.
"Minnie talks too much at times," I said.
Then, the realization came to me, sinking and sickening, that although her breasts and hips intrigued me, my penis had erected not a bit. In fact, it was as limp as when I'd first glimpsed her standing in my doorway, small and sexy and huge breasted and sex-appealing...
My God! Dear God, oh, God ... God, have I indeed lost it? No, no, no-what would be the use of living, God?
"Minnie is a real good-hearted woman," Doctor Jo said, "And so is Gertie, whom I know but not as well as I know Minnie. An analyst gets to know a patient very well, you know. Minnie told me you were at the Palace and played out." She didn't wait for an answer. "You have a bathroom, haven't you?"
"First door to your right."
She looked down the hall. "And that's your bedroom down there, isn't it?" I nodded. "I'll meet you there, Oliver. I like to talk to my patients in comfortable surroundings, you know. Makes informality so much easier."
Again, that radiant, tooth-white smile. Then she pivots, breastworks swinging in a wide circle, and starts for my John.
She trips down the hall in front of me, buttocks singing merrily, but there's no song in my soul, for my penis is still dishrag limber. She turns into the John, flashes me a smile, then softly closes the door and I amble on to my bedroom, wondering if I'd connected with another fraud medico like Doc Mullholland.
And why the hell was she going to the John? Didn't she have one at home? Usually when a person just wakes up they have a bowel movement and drain their kidneys. Maybe she was a slow starter?
I sat on my bed, robe open, legs spread wide. I'd pulled on my shorts just before donning my robe, so I could spread my legs wide as I sat without embarrassing anybody, even myself.
I heard the John door open, then close. I looked at my feet. I have ugly feet, all joints, homely toes. I heard Doctor Jo coming toward my bedroom. Strangely, her high heels didn't make any noise on the hall runner which was rather well worn, for whenever Minnie or Gertie walked down the hall you could dimly hear their heels hit through the thin runner.
I looked up. And gasped-
Doctor Jo stood in the doorway in best model fashion, right knee bent, and she wore only a smile-and nothing more! She was naked-stark naked!
Her smile deepened. And she just posed there, and I stared. First, I riveted my eyes on her breasts, and she had the breasts-no two ways about that.
How does a writer describe such lovely female breasts? Shall I say they were so large they seemed to fight for space on her small chest, one ramming hard against the other until they had no valley but a firm line of white loveliness separating their high-nippled beauty?
And her stomach? How does one describe such a pearl-white, flat little stomach, running down to anchor itself in her hips-motherly hips, not too big, not too small, but just right for a man's spread, grasping hands to clutch as he went up and down, ramrod-hard penis probing her trembling vagina until, at last, his testicles sent his sperm flying into her soft flesh?
Oh, yes, her pubic hair, too? For she had plenty-a solid mat of light golden brown, fleecy and curly. And her female passage, that beloved door in which all mankind had entered ... and has come from?
I could see just the top of her opening. It looked small and my first thought was evil. Christ almighty, this is eating pussy!
Finally a voice spoke and asked, "Why the birthday suit?" Finally it dawned on me that it had been my voice coming from some far mountain peak and that seemed odd for there wasn't a mountain in sight except the two creamy ones Nature had put on her ribs!
"Minnie told me you couldn't erect, remember?"
I remembered. I swallowed hard. She minced forward, walking on the balls of her precious little feet, and I had a momentary vision of lovely Doctor Jo on her back, legs spread wide as she pulled them back by her hands on her ankles, her lovely green eyes admiring my twelve-and seven-eighths as it-
Twelve-inches and seven eighths? My mind flicked to my penis. I realized, with maddening anger, that it hung limply over my scrotum and that the sight of this loveliness, pubic hair and all, had stirred it not an iota, whatever an iota is!
Oh, God help me, I silently moaned, watching her come closer, closer, still closer, and watching her breasts, her belly, her hips-and those green, enchanting eyes, glistening with something metallic now ... Yes, glistening with sex lust, shiny and bright. Shimmering with the light of a woman who wants to be on her back, legs high and spread, the hard long penis probing, bouncing, loving in her hot, exuding vagina...
I suddenly realized I stood up. I don't remember rising. She now stood in front of me, her twin nipples lightly brushing my lower ribs, for my robe had fallen open.
"Oliver," she cooed.
I swallowed, staring down at her nipples. They challenged me. I tried to speak. I couldn't. The cat had gone by. The cat had shit in my mouth, or something.
"Oliver?" This time, she frowned daintily.
Finally I croaked, "Doctor Jo."
"Let us drop formalities," those red lips said, "and just call me plain Jo, huh? "
"Plain Jo," I said dutifully.
"No, just Jo," she corrected. "Oliver, your eyes bug way out. Haven't you ever seen a naked female human before?" "Not one like you, Jo."
She curtsied, breasts rising, falling, scraping my chest. Now, if ever, my penis should be hard, rock hard ... but it was limber, wet rag limber.
God in heaven, where is your lightning, your thunder-kill me on the spot, for my life is ended, my testicles are dead! High Madame, you bitch, you whore, you wanton!
Some day I'll get you, High Madame. I'll throw you on your back and ram my over-a-foot of lead pipe up your pussy and then up your ass-hole and-
I believe that, then and there, it was born-and by it I mean my burning desire to get revenge on the High Madame, to fuck her until she hollered for help. For I stared at Jo's huge, hard breast ... and remembered the High Madame's tipped, proud nipples, jabbing against my chest as I mounted her vainly, penis dangling harmlessly.
Baby, I silently vowed, someday I'll get you, baby ... And I wasn't referring to Jo, either.
Then Jo said, petulantly, "Aren't you going to put your arms around me, Oliver, my love?"
Dutifully, I wrap my arms around her lovely nakedness like a bored husband, and I found myself comparing her curves to those of the High Madame. This angered me, for she was here and the High Madame wasn't, and you can't screw somebody when they 're not with you, you know.
Her arms went around my waist, sneaking under my robe. Her fingers were hot, her grasp was solid, and I felt her shiver as though in lust, and then remembered she'd come to test me psychologically, not to screw me.
"This is a strange way for a psychiatrist to act," I murmured, head buried in her glistening sweet-smelling red hair.
She sighed deeply, nipples rubbing hide off my belly. "Psychiatrists are only human, too, Oliver. They need love and need to be wanted, also, you know. We also are human with a human's wants and needs."
Right now, she evidently needed something personal, for her hips were grating against my thighs, imitating a high school snake dance, and my hands went down and cupped her delectable buttocks. I strained her hips against my thighs, and my penis was level with her navel.
And, more than that, my penis was dead, limp, lost.
Again, more than dismay hit me this time-in fact, terror surged through me, stiffening my loins but not my prong, and I felt cold sweat break out on my thighs and under my arms.
Before being kicked bodily out of the Palace, were this animal to come purring to me like this I'd have erected immediately and, if she'd not put out, I'd have melted and become a spot on the sheet. But ... not now, buster.
I had to stall for time, hoping I might yet erect. "I meant do you always immediately go into a clinch with a client-male, of course?"
"I make my actions fit the mental and physical status of my client."
This was clear as concrete. Her hips danced against mine and I imagined her box, dewy and moist and ready for male penetration, and being unable to penetrate right now, I again stalled for time with a question.
"You ll have to clarify that statement for me, Jo," I said.
She reared her head back. Those sea-green eyes studied me thoughtfully, the little mouth slightly open, the red lips parted ever so little bit.
"Well, if a client is nuts about swimming, let's say, I go swimming with him on her, and we discuss items in the client's natural habitat, one might say. Now, take your case, Oliver."
"Take it," I encouraged.
"Well, Minnie said you'd lost your ability to rear an erection. Therefore, my job, first, is to make sure if Minnie's correct or incorrect."
We were getting on touchy ground. I sweated more and faster and colder. "Why go to all that trouble, Jo? Why don't you just take a person's word and let it go at that?"
"Darling Oliver, please! How do I know Minnie is right? Perhaps you have just lost your manhood where Minnie is concerned?"
"Maybe," I croaked, again cursing my limp dinkus.
"Men are journeymen when it comes to beds," Jo said. "All men like a change. They get tired soon of their sexual escorts, whether or not a marriage ceremony has taken place."
"They get tired faster if they are married," I said.
She frowned prettily, leaning back against my cupped hands. I wanted to put my fingers in her crack but held back because I knew by now I could do nothing to her, that I was as impotent around this lovely hunk of female flesh as I was around the beautiful High Madame.
Again, that intriguing little frown. "Perhaps you are right, darling. Let's pretend you and I are married, Oliver. Would you soon be weary of me and would you then seek other female company?"
She watched me, top teeth clamped over her bottom lip. Her eyes looked small and mean momentarily. I guessed that a lot of tiger-lurked in this small, curvaceous nymph.
I also wondered if she wasn't nuttier than her clients. But it stands to reason that if one works with mentally unbalanced persons all the time, that person tends to become mentally unbalanced also.
"Darling Jo, I'd never tire of you, sweetheart."
Always lie to them. They like everything but the truth. Tell the homeliest one the biggest lie of all--that's she's beautiful, and shell curl up and be your friend for life ... if you keep on lying to her...
You can school and educate them, but they're still females underneath, and being females the big lie is the thing-the main thing, the one thing.
"How sweet of you, my Oliver."
Her eyes were honey-soft. Her red lips parted, she panted slightly, her nipples were hard-but my prong was still soft. What would I do? Pick her bodily up, throw her outside, evade the issue by force?
I couldn't let her know that I couldn't erect around a naked lovely such as she, for at least I am a man, am I not? And when a man hasn't pride in his penis and his ability in bed, what has he got?
She settled the issue by running her hands down my flanks. They moved hot across my quivering belly muscles, inched under the elastic band of my shorts, played in my pubic hair and then found my penis. She began skinning my foreskin back and forth across my knob, small hands loving my huge but limp penis.
"So big," she murmured, "and so limp..."
I shivered, and not from sexual lust. I trembled because I'd never been caught in such an embarrassing situation in my life.
Her small hands kept playing. I realized I had my fingers curved around her buttocks and my forefingers were in her crack, spreading it wide. I felt her anus, round and nice; it quivered under my touch.
I closed my eyes. I tried to analyze things down. I had trembled with lust, penis hard as steel, when I had entered Doc Mullholland's anus, and certainly doing it up the rectum to Doctor Jo would be more enjoyable-and possibly tighter-than doing an anus penetration of Doc Mullholland?
"You don't have an erection," she murmured.
"Don't rub it in, Jo."
"I've never been naked around a man when he didn't have it jabbing upward, Oliver. I was a junior in college in anatomy class before I learned that sometimes a man's penis points down. All I'd ever seen had pointed upward, you know."
I opened my eyes. I looked at her. Surely she was joking? Her face, though, was dead-pan serious. Did a real college diploma rest in her handbag? Hell, no, I told myself-she's bought a degree from some tinhorn factory, just like Doc Mullholland did...
I became aware that he'd pushed me back until my bed was behind my knees, and she'd done this pushing with her nipples, so hard now a man could bite one and break an incisor, I do believe. She kept on pushing, nipples bending not an inch; accordingly, I went over on my back on my bed, her hands stripping my shorts to my ankles as I went down.
She pulled my shorts free, spread my legs wide, looked at my twin works, and then pulled my robe from under my rump. I sat up. She took my dressing gown free. I was now as naked as she.
I opened my mouth to say something and a big round right nipple entered it. Again, I went on my back but this time I sucked like a baby who'd just been given a newly filled bottle.
She covered me with white clean skin, her hand again on my penis, skinning up and down that limp, deceptive, huge hunk of flesh.
I sucked and sucked, and prayed, but my penis-remained bent and dead. She lifted a huge breast, gave me the other nipple; I sucked it madly, too, but it also had no milk. This nipple left and her lips covered mine, hot and damp, and she got astraddle me in the man position, but that did no good so she sat on my belly, staring down at me.
"Minnie was right," she finally said.
I glanced at my bedside clock. We'd wrestled about thirteen minutes. I realized she learned quickly.
"Now I know for sure you cannot erect," she said, "so I know what psychiatric channels to use in correcting your difficulties." Her hand held my penis. "You do have a very large penis, even if it is limp. Some women must have difficulty absorbing one this large. I wonder if I would encounter difficulties."
I almost said, "You try and I'll report you and get your license revoked," but I didn't because she had raised her buttocks and had my limp penis directly under her preparatory to attempting to slide down on it.
I closed my eyes. I tried to think penis, penis, penis, but nothing happened. I liked being diddled with a woman over my prong, her curved hips going up and down as she took me to the testicles, then reared upward to bend and massage my penis into an orgasm.
What the hell?
Doctor Jo wasn't trying to fit my limp penis into her proper feminine place, but into her anus-an utter impossibility. Had she made an error in her haste, for her hand trembled as it held my prong upright.
I decided to say nothing. No, she'd not erred. She was trying to get my knob into her anus. I opened my eyes.
"Wrong hole," I murmured.
"Not for me it isn't, goddamn it!"
Her voice had completely changed. No longer did it hold velvet, dulcet overtones. It was hoarse and brutal. I looked at her face.
Her eyes were closed, long lashes lying on painted cheeks. Her red lips were savage, twisted down at corners. Her jaw was set. She was concentrating on just one thing, and one only-getting my knob into her rectum.
I couldn't believe my senses. Here a female had come to analyze me and now was naked on top of nude me, trying to thread my big soft knob into her throbbing anus. Could this be true?
Evidently it was, though, for her firm thighs gripped my hips, squeezing down as her rump settled over my jock. I felt my knob go through the thick pubic hair. I fell the rough edges of her anus. She had her anus slightly open. She put my knob upward, pushing it up, her hips settling down-but no limp penis in the world could penetrate such a small opening!
"Sonofabitch," she said huskily.
I found myself catching the mood. The moment before I'd been angry but the comical aspects of this seduction suddenly hit me, almost making me laugh. I gave up trying to get an erection. I concentrated on making fun of her.
"Why not try it in your snatch?" I asked. "It's bigger, you know. I never have met a woman yet who didn't have a bigger pussy than a rear end."
"What do you know about cornholing?" she asked sharply. "I've been cornholed more times than you've had it naturally, even though you did stud-and flop out-at the Palace!"
"Don't rub me," I warned. I'd heard too much about me and the Palace and that damned High Madame! "For Christ's sake, get a hard-on!"
"Minnie's probably paying you good money to get me to erect," I reminded, "so get onto your job, woman." "Fuck you, Oliver Torcido!"
"That's right. That's what you're trying to do, isn't it?" She didn't answer, moving my penis back and forth, still trying to get it up her rectum. "Why don't you use sonie lubricant? You might have a chance then."
"I've got none in my purse. Have you got some?"
I had a jar in the drawer, of course, but why tell her? Let her suffer and work and earn her pay, huh?
"Why would I have any?"
"You go up Minnie's rectum, don't you?"
"Certainly I do, but she carries the Vaseline."
She moved my penis ahead. I felt the edges of her vulva. The muscles opened, and she enclosed part of my knob, but not all. She wriggled her lovely hips, moving them down but, although she had a firm anchorage on my penis, it bent and refused to enter.
"I'll be a sonofabitch," she grunted. "God, how I'd like this big prick in me! I've never seen or held a cock this big before! I get it in me and I work-and III get it hard for you, Oliver Torcido!"
She had a big box, for she was a small woman, remember. Still, big opening or not, she couldn't take my penis, and I've had women take it limp and work it up carefully, watching so it wouldn't slip out.
I lay back, watching her angry face. I found macabre satisfaction in her shrewish visage, and I hoped some day I could make that damned High Madame this angry and frustrated. I'd do it to the High Madame come hell or high water, I vowed. My manhood was at stake, and if a man loses his manhood what has he got to live for, I ask you?
She gave the correct sharp wriggle, her vulva sagged open correctly, and my knob entered into her warm vagina.
"Ah," she breathed, and creamed my flexible penis.
Her lovely body fairly shivered with sexual excitement. I felt her whiteness run down my penis and onto my testicles. Although most men absolutely won't believe it, my penis refused to stiffen at all.
She slid down my penis, holding it by forefinger and thumb. "I'll get a hard-on for you, Oliver," she panted, "or break my britches trying..." Her hips moved up and down, assuming more rapidity.
Harsh gasps broke from her clenched lips. I lay and concentrated on my penis, but the more I thought hard the softer it became, I do believe! My mind had absolutely no control over my flesh!
"It's getting hard," she gasped, and again she had an orgasm.
Her imagination was running riot. My dong hadn't stiffened a bit. She took her fingers from around my penis. Evidently she figured it was rigid enough. She erred there.
For she rose high, just my knob in her; her hips gave a sharp, nice twist that, had I had an erection, would have pulled my penis strongly. But I had no erection. My penis flopped out of her.
For one long moment, she hung suspended over me, face showing doubt which was quickly replaced by despair. Then, despair gave way to roaring, violent anger.
And she hammered me with both fists on my chest!
6
I've never hit a female in my life with a fist. I have slapped a few around, but only after they've hit at me-for when a female hits at me she makes herself the same as a man, in my opinion, and deserves the treatment a man would get in a similar situation.
So, I slapped Doctor Jo around some.
We had quite a set-to. She was a tough, hard little rascal. She'd been a psychiatrist in a mental hospital, I later learned, and while there she'd had to forcibly subdue patients, and she used what she'd learned there on me, and she was no slouch, either.
But she didn't have the judo experience and fighting finesse of the High Madame, and I thank God for that, or Doctor Jo would have taken me, just as the High Madame had.
I pushed her first off my hips. She went sprawling and cursing to the floor on her lovely rump. Hurriedly, I swung out of bed. I'd held off a few mad women in my life, and I figured she'd grab first for my penis-and I was correct, for she got to her feet, spread her legs wide, swore again and lunged, long fingernails clawing for my prong.
Had she grabbed my dong, she'd have jerked it from me-she was that angry, that little redhead. But I leaped to one side, evading her grasp. Even then, she almost had me; her long fingernails grooved a little foreskin from me.
She lurched ahead. I moved in. I grabbed her around the slender waist, sat hurriedly on my bed, and slapped her across my thighs, beautiful derriere pointing upward. And then, I paddled her, and hard.
Needless to say, she screamed and cursed, kicked and tried to bite my leg, but this she couldn't bend her head enough to do, but the sly vixen had another plan-without my knowing it, her right hand sneaked under her and, when
I came down on the sixth open-handed stroke, she had hold of my penis ... and how!
And she yanked ... and twisted.
Never before have I felt such excruciating pain. Pain knifed my loins, tore into my guts. I leaped to my feet, screaming, and she rolled to the floor, but never once did she release my poor old penis.
She dragged me to my knees. She lay on her back. She tried to jerk my penis into her mouth. Her white teeth clicked like a terrier's in battle. Had she got my prong in her mouth I do believe she'd have bitten it off, the vixen!
Gritting my teeth, I rolled over, and thus tore her hold from my prick, which stretched out terribly, then sprang back when released. And this time I danced around her, slapping her in the belly and across the buttocks and thighs, but never in the breasts or face, of course.
She lunged, missed, stopped, cursed, her heavy breasts heaving as she played out, and I was also breathing hard when, finally, she sank to her knees, mouth open as she gasped for air, a bit of white froth on her lips.
I stood wide-legged, plainly the winner ... but what had I won? I stared at her crotch. Her thick pubic hair was matted with frothy white. A terrible longing came over me, making my mouth dry. No, my penis didn't erect, but sexual urge smashed through me, blunt and devastating.
The next thing I knew, I had her on her back. Her legs flew up and went wide, and then my head was in her crotch, drinking of her white womanhood. She broke wind from the fall, and I felt the breeze hit my head as it came down, and her perfume loved my nostrils as my tongue lapped first from her flowing womanly bowl, then cleaned her white-covered pubic hair.
"Oh, darling, Oliver! How wonderful, sweetheart and-"
She said something else, but I couldn't make it out. Her voice sounded choked. I immediately knew why. Her head was between my legs. She had my knob and about two inches in her mouth.
Fear tore me. I froze over her, mouth poised over her vulva. Unconsciously, I licked my lips slowly, remembering her clicking canine teeth of a few moments ago.
If she bit my penis, I'd beat her unconscious, woman or no woman!
For one long moment, all hung in balance-a poised tableau with my penis in her mouth, her lips surrounding my knob, and me braced on my arms, feeling her lips nibble, feeling her teeth lightly touch my foreskin.
Then, her arms went around my naked hips. Her fingers resting in my crack, she pulled my hips down, down, down-and, to my surprise, she took my penis to its entirety in her mouth, my testicles resting on the bridge of her nose.
Surprise hit me. Most women can't take me orally to my scrotum. I have just too much penis. Then I remembered that my penis was soft and, when soft, only measures somewhere around nine inches, if that much.
She gurgled something I couldn't understand, but I did understand the push upward she gave my buttocks, her right thumb anchored in my anus. She wanted me to begin up and down motions in her mouth.
Relief flooded me. She was going to suck, not bite. Accordingly, I began perpendicular activities, hoping and praying that, at long last, my old joy-prong would get hard, for her mouth was damp and her lip-work left nothing to be desired, I can assure you.
She had splendid lips. She'd sucked much and had been taught by experts. Each time my penis went deep into her throat, her tongue snaked out and loved my scrotum. She had a strong, educated tongue. Her tongue had such force it could move my balls around in my bag!
Nothing thrills me like a tongue loving my balls, but another thing was that sometimes her tongue would dart upward and circle my anus, which also gives a man a great charge, you know.
Her lips pulled on my penis, her cheeks going in and out. I was, indeed, being psychoanalyzed, and I loved the analysis. I pumped and her tongue worked and my head again went down, my lips and tongue finding her gaping, hungry vulva, secreting its white sweetness.
I waited for my penis to swell. Surely I'd erect under such heat and such expert tongue-manipulation. I waited and waited, and her tongue shot out around me, and I knew by her tongue I wasn't stiffening, for were I stiff my big John would have completely filled her mouth-and her tongue couldn't have room enough to lance out like it did and love my testicles and anus...
Tongue probing her damp vagina, I wondered what I should think about to aid my penis ... and her tongue. I got it-I would think of the sweet, small mouth of the High Madame!
The moment I'd seen the High Madame's tiny mouth, my penis had stiffened automatically, yearning to jab at the lovely blonde's tonsils. Now, I imagined I was punching the mouth of the High Madame.
I sucked sweet whiteness into my mouth, my thoughts on the mouth of the High Madame and I waited for my penis to harden. I must tell the truth. It did harden some but not much, for Doctor Jo could still put her tongue out around it, which meant that my jock never attained full size in the psychiatrist's lovely mouth.
My tongue probed far up into her vagina, loving what it found there. Her come was not the sweetest I'd ever tasted, but it had good flavor and body. But my penis worried me, as well it should.
High Madame, I thought, I shall put it in your rectum, your vagina, your mouth, and maybe between your clamped-together legs or under an armpit, and when I gel done with you, you lovely bitch, you ll know that Oliver Torcido can erect, and that young Oliver Torcido is indeed a cocksman, you sweet, lovable, blonde blue-eyed wanton...
My prick is in your mouth, High Madame. You love it and massage it and soon I'll blast it into you, my errant judo-throwing sweetheart. . .
To my surprise and happiness, my penis began to stiffen. No longer did the tongue of lovely Doctor Jo spear out alongside of my prong to lave my testicles or anus. My manhood evidently filled her mouth too much to allow space for her tongue to lick out.
Hope speared through me. I was a man again! My hips went up and down, my penis running far into her throat, then rising. Her lips clung and twisted. I heard her deep breathing.
I tasted her womanhood, my mouth filled. Sweet come trickled into my stomach. I smelled her vagina, her anus, the sleekness of her skin. Her full thighs encased my head.
I kept my thoughts on the High Madame. Again in my mind's eye I saw her proud, huge breasts, her lovely blonde hair, the arch of her buttocks, sleek and appealing. Again, my penis probed her vagina.
I must correct that. My penis had merely entered the curvature of her vulva, not penetrating her more than one-eighth or so of my knob. I'd never had it in the High Madame's vagina.
Then, for some reason, I thought of Vivian, and I must inform my reader about Vivian, who pestered me sexually when I toiled as a stud in the Palace of Phallism. Ugly, slatternly, immensely wealthy Vivian.
Vivian had no breasts. Her chest was flat as a boy's. She always came to mc for sexual attention. I could never erect for her, even if she'd got me the first hour of my shift when my testicles were loaded.
I went into her with a wimpus. She liked it dog-fashion. I would impale her from behind, going into her female opening most of the time. She was all bones and no angles but corners.
The moment I thought of Vivian, my penis suddenly softened. I lost all semblance of rigidity I had gained. And, to make matters worse, I next thought of another Palace client who made my life miserable, big blocky fat Mabel.
My throbbing brain swept back to the first day that huge Mabel rolled into my crib, naked and with an ass as wide as a Sherman tank and a cunt built in proportion to her buttocks, not to mention her loose, well-stretched anus.
Her buttocks were so wide my outstretched arms couldn't encompass them, and therefore I couldn't straddle her and cup her at the same time, and I have very long arms, too.
Now, my penis became even limper, despite the hard tongue and jaw work of lovely Doctor Jo. For one long moment, Doctor Jo worked with great swiftness and dexterity, her tongue pulling, her lips massaging, and then she spat my penis out in disgust, saying, "For Christ's sake, Oliver, we were going along good and all of a sudden ... What the hell happened?"
"I don't know," I lied, feeling low-down ... and scared.
She rammed the flat of her right hand into my crack, smacking my anus hard. That hurt and I leaped up, fists doubled. But she was on her feet in a flash and had the bed between us.
"There's something wrong with you!" she said, eyes narrowed. "No, I don't want to fight any more, because my ass is sore where you slapped me. And besides, I might have another customer who can't erect today."
I stared at her. "You mean, when a man can't erect, you set out to seduce him? You must be a sex nut, baby!"
Her eyes got dreamy. "I must admit I like my fucking, Oliver. Oh, I said fucking-and what a non-academic word that is! What would my old General Psych teacher-strict old Doc Maxwell-say if he'd heard me so uncouth in front of a client?"
"He'd probably do what he did when you knew him," I ventured to say.
She laughed. "He used to pat me on the ass every chance he got, the old ruffian-and him at least seventy!" She looked at her wristwatch. "I'd better dress and get to my office. I'm late for my first appointment now."
She whipped around my John's door, lovely buttocks cracking open in her speed. I sat down and reached out for her purse and the first thing I found was her diploma, rolled up with a rubber band around it.
She'd graduated with high honors from a famous southern California university, the diploma said, and I wondered if it was faked. I restored the diploma to her bag and the bag to its former resting place and I sat and looked at my penis, and I was so sitting-and looking-when she came out of the can all dressed for traveling, those twin torpedoes still straining against her blouse.
"Be careful on the street," I said. "You might accidentally trip the triggers and those torpedoes might go off and kill somebody."
She frowned. "What are you blabbing about, Oliver? "
I explained. She laughed gaily. "You are such a dear, darling. I shall present my bill to Minnie and not you, of course."
"Bill?" I asked. "Bill for what?"
"My professional services, of course. You need long and intensive treatments, my love. I must erase from your memory all past miserable sexual encounters, thus releasing all inhibitions from you-not to mention your quitting your psychic scars."
"Get out!" I snarled.
"When do you wish another session? "
"Never!" I looked up at those torpedoes. She smiled and bent toward me, and the torpedoes looked down at me, and I almost shifted in my seat for fear they'd be fired. "Please don't ever come back."
"I must think your case over," she said, and then bent and kissed my forehead quickly. She stopped at the door and smiled. "Good day, Oliver."
She flipped her lovely behind twice, and then the door closed behind her, and I sat there, naked, unsexed, wondering, almost ready to bawl, and then the humor of it hit me and I laughed, but my laugh was sour and thin, believe you me!
Hell, Minnie-and maybe Gertie, too?-had jobbed me! Not even a practicing psychiatrist could be as fruitcake nutty as Doctor Jo! I reached for the phone book, then called the university her diploma had issued, and I got hold of the psych department-and when I hung up, my face was pale.
She'd graduated with high honors from the university!
I rang Doc Mullholland, and finally got him out of bed. Yes, he'd heard of Doctor Jo. Yes, she was a famous psychiatrist. Minnie would send me only the best, you know.
"She sure called early," Doc said sleepily.
"What makes you so sleepy?"
"Worked late last night. Get me, worked late!"
I got it. Doc had had an abortion case. We'd agreed never to mention the word abortion over the phone, of course-who knows nowadays who's tapping whom? I fell relief. He'd got at least three hundred for the surgery. He'd be fluid a few more days.
Doc went back to bed. I wasn't sleepy. Doctor Jo had jerked me completely awake. I lay back and considered the High Madame. Blood pounded hungrily through my arteries and veins as I thought of having sex with her, either normal or obscene, whatever obscene means.
I realized that having sex with the High Madame had become a powerful obsession with me. I felt that I had to redeem my lack of manhood. Therefore, the place to start was with the person who'd seen me lose said manhood. And that person was none other than the curve-bound, sexy High Madame.
I'd fuck her. But how could I get to her? Yes, I'd rape her if necessary. But she was secure and safe in the confines of the Palace of Phallism, up in the mountains.
A ten-foot-high stone wall surrounded the Palace. This wall was studded with broken glass on top. It had but two entrances. One was an archway where clients entered. A guard was posted there in a guard house. Each person entering had to have a calling card-the huge phallus entering "the female vagina-or had to vouched for by somebody in the car.
That somebody had to be a Palace member in good standing.
Nobody but females were allowed, of course. I could never get in that way, even if I disguised myself as a woman, for I knew nobody who had a Palace card, and I cursed Minnie and Gertie for getting so mad they'd torn up their cards and thrown them in the High Madame's face.
The other gate was used by trucks and delivery vans who brought in necessary food supplies and other essentials. Each truck was searched carefully by Palace guards before being allowed to enter. Truck drivers had credentials issued by the High Madame for identification purposes.
A man might sneak in this way, but it was improbable. Of course, the High Madame had to eventually leave the Palace grounds, but it was rumored she left incognito at night and spent all her time out with a prominent movie mogul who loved her mouth wrapped around his penis.
I wracked my brain trying to remember if the High Madame had been especially friendly with any of the Palace's female clients, but could remember no gossip pointing this direction. Then, I suddenly stiffened, memory bringing back one salient point.
I had just finished a sex session with skinny Vivian, having gone into her vagina dog-fashion, for she liked this position. I had, in fact, hit her rather hard, for she loved to be smacked on the cracker-edged buttocks with my hips. Sometimes, when I smashed in hard, I even lifted her knees from the bed. At such moments, she chortled in happiness.
"That's even better than a woman's tongue!" Vivian had gasped. "Hit me again hard like that, Oliver!"
I'd slapped forward roughly again. For one moment her knees were off the bed and she was suspended on my penis, panting with joy. I let her down again. "A woman? Are you homo, too?"
"Just one girl, most of the time. The boss of this place, darling. Once again-hard-to your balls, Oliver sweetheart!"
Had my ears heard rightly? I'd then, of course, flunked my final test with Olivia, who had thrown me over her head and, as stated, snapped my sacroiliac out of place, but I'd not then known that Olivia was, in reality, the High Madame, boss of the Palace of Phallism.
In fact, at that time the High Madame had been to me a woman of mystery, as she'd been to all the new studs fighting for a regular job on her payroll.
Some rumors had said she was the world's most beautiful woman. Others had said her homely and a crone. She was aloof, apparently, from Palace problems, moving in cinemalike splendor through the splendid buildings.
Now this hag-this cracked-assed sexual-crazy rich housewife-said she'd consorted sexually with the High Madame! I leaned forward, wand shooting into Vivian's huge box, to better smell her breath.
I'd smelled a faint trace of booze mingled with the acrid odor of cunt and cock and sweating skin, for although my crib had of course been air-conditioned, skinny Vivian always sweated.
I'd pressed the matter no further, thinking the female had merely boasted. Later on, after shift, I'd sat naked in the cocktail lounge with Mike, the head stud, and I'd happened to mention this conversation. Mike had said he'd heard Vivian say the same thing. Did he think it was true?
Mike had shrugged, saying he'd seen the High Madame only twice, and the second time she'd been heavily veiled, leaving her Rolls Royce to enter her private quarters. "The first time was when she gave me my final test. Brother, that girl can fuck, and how-but she's had lots of practice, seeing she apparently has been a star in Hollywood!"
I asked if rumor had the High Madame going homo, and Mike said he'd heard such rumors, adding that she undoubtedly did, having been in Hollywood. Yes, Vivian might have gone six and nine with the High Madame.
"Vivian's husband is a big Hollywood producer, you know. Movies, TV, even radio. He shipped Vivian out here because she was drunk all the time in Hollywood and interfered with his nooky, I understand." "She's drunk here, most of the time." "Yeah, but she's out from under his feet. I've heard that the High Madame screws Vivian's husband, so why shouldn't she also go six and nine with the wife?"
Now, sitting on my bed, facing a bleak, money-less, sexless future, I lifted a naked buttock and automatically farted, my mind on skinny-assed Vivian, who, after going to my stud-bed, wanted only me-Oliver Torcido-to hose her each and every time she shelled out seventy-five clams for a bed at the Palace of Phallism.
In face, Vivian and I became rather close acquaintances-as close as fucking acquaintances could get. Sometimes she came during the last hour of my trick. After her time had been spent with me, she and I sometimes went to the lounge, where we drank for a few hours. What the hell was her address?
Studs weren't permitted to keep address books. This was against Palace rules, the High Madame fearing that an unhappy stud, after being discharged, might indulge in a little blackmail against his former bed partners.
Would Gertie or Minnie know?
I had my doubts. I understood over three hundred females held cards for Palace of Phallism. Still ... one never knew.
I reached for the phone. Before I could lift the receiver, it rang. The voice of Gertie, usually sexy and suave, rang in my ears. Gertie usually kidded and joked before getting to a problem but today she smashed through directly to the point.
"Oliver, Minnie and I have just had a long, long talk about one Oliver Torcido, and I must admit our summation is not in your favor, Oliver."
My heart plummeted a few hundred stories. I could see my weekly income-meager as it was-winging out of the window. Luckily, I'd saved a little of my Palace stud money-about two hundred bucks. That would tide me for a while. Or give me money to move on...
"Okay," I snarled. "Come with it, baby!"
My sharp retort must have rocked her. She hesitated before continuing and then she used a much less authoritative tone of voice. She now beat around the bush but the verdict was the same-she and Minnie were tired of me.
"And you're cutting off my dough?" I asked, still bulling ahead. "Well-"
"Okay," I said shortly. "Do as you wish, female. You're like all women, you two. When a man's down and needs you, you pull out on him. When he's up and doesn't need you, you hang to him like a leech."
Then, the irony of it struck me. I couldn't help it. I had to laugh. These two females-once my best friends-were deserting me because my penis wouldn't erect! But my laugh was cut short. I thought of the thousands of divorces granted on the grounds of incompatibility which a lawyer I know defines as two people unable to stomach each other any longer.
"What's so damned funny?" Gertie asked angrily.
"My two girl friends," I said. "Swearing eternal love, bouncing up and down and under my joy prong. And now, because of a psychic shock, I cannot erect, so there goes love, my dear."
"Doctor Jo called. She says there's no hope for you. She says that your psychic scar is so deep you undoubtedly will forever be impotent."
"Fuck Doctor Jo!"
"She told me you'd tried to and failed miserably, and if you flopped around somebody as lovely as she is there is no future for you as a stud, Oliver, and I'm sorry and-"
"No future as a stud!" She hit me really where it hurt! "You need me, baby; I don't need you."
"Minnie and I can always go to the Palace. We can get back in. We both own a lot of stock in the enterprise. The High Madame can't keep big stockholders out of a company they own."
"I don't need you or Minnie to start out," I said. "I built up a clientele at the Palace. All I have to do is notify a few of them, give them my address-women like Vivian, for example."
"Vivian who?"
My blood pressure dropped. Evidently Gertie didn't know Vivian. All I wanted was Vivian's last name. The phone book would undoubtedly tell me the rest, unless Vivian had an unlisted number.
"You know which Vivian I mean," I said. "The skinny one who always came to me when she came to the Palace."
"Oh, Vivian Smith! Well, maybe you were the only stud that would take that refugee from a cornfield on? I understood most studs wouldn't stick her. They were afraid of getting bones in their pricks!"
"You talk too dirty!" I hung up.
I consulted the phone book. It held four Vivian
Smiths-all with different middle initials-and three Mrs. V. Smiths. I picked out the Smith that I figured lived in the most high-priced district.
I reached for the phone. It rang. Gertie, calling back. I let the bitch sweat. I waited patiently. After three minutes sharp it quit ringing. I dialed my Vivian Smith. I had the wrong one. I hung up to pick out another Smith.
Again, the phone yammered. I let it holler for another two minutes. Finally it stopped.
I dialed another wrong Smith.
Again, my phone rang. We did this four times, dark-haired lovely Gertie and I, and then I heard a deep female voice say, "Mrs. Vivian Smith talking. Who, may I ask, is this? "
Cautiously, carefully, diplomatically-that was Oliver Torcido, at that crucial moment. And it all paid off. . .
7
It was like old times. Once again skinny, flat-breasted Vivian was on my bed on all fours, her head resting on her folded arms, her cracker-edged butt staring upward, crack open and anus dark and glistening in short stubby pubic hair.
"Sock it to me, Oliver," she said, gleefully paraphrasing the words of a current rage song. "To the balls, Oliver, like you did at the Palace, my sweet."
"Regular or back door? "
I hoped for regular. Her anus held no appeal for me. I, too, was naked, of course, and I had my wimpus holding me erect, with a fishskin over the wimpus to hide it, and she thought I had a natural erection.
She'd said so when she'd flicked a kiss over my knob. "You can go in me bare if you wish, sweetheart. But it makes no dif to me, really. Actually, I like it with a rubber because I must admit my ass-hole is very big. It has stretched since you started cornholing me with that huge, grand, glorious cock of yours!"
Sweet little talker, my flat-titted Vivian, huh?
But please remember always, reader, that the people I encounter in my trade are all abnormal or twisted in some mental manner, or else they'd not come to me for stud service. It's that simple ... and complicated!
"I intend to please you, darling," I said, "and if a rubber gives you more feeling, then a fishskin it is."
"You always have been so thoughtful of me, Oliver! Much more so than my husband, goddamn his dirty soul!"
Her voice held deep, genuine hate toward her spouse. This was not new to me, though-almost all women I've serviced have hated their husbands. These women are more honest than the average woman. The average wife loathes and detests her husband, also, but he is in most cases a good meal-ticket, so they lie and play up to papa who, in his ignorance, imagines he is being loved and needed, for what is more ignorant than the average husband?
But the husband was the one I wanted to talk about, and I greased her anus in best professional manner as I asked, "Evidently your husband steps out with other women, darling? "
"He fucks every female he can stop long enough to screw," she said, "and he hasn't paid a bit of attention to me sexually for years and years, so no wonder I go to you-he's my downfall, the bastard!"
I'd heard that before, too, from female clients. Always the blame was somebody else's, you know.
"Who does he now consort with?" I asked, fitting my greased knob directly over her anus.
"Any female he can put it into."
I swished my knob up and down, getting her-and it-well greased. I began slowly, carefully, pushing forward, my penis limber on my wimpus, my wimpus taking the strain of entry.
"He must have some particular female he caters to more than others? I've always heard that a man who has a harem had a favorite woman."
"He-Oliver, why so slow! like the expression says, Sock it to me! I love pain around my ass-hole-and in my rectum, darling. Wham it to me, sweet. Oh, my god, how good ... May I yell?"
"Yell," I said.
She moaned and groaned, my balls pounding her crack now. You didn't need to squeeze a finger into Vivian's long, oozing female opening to make her twist in sexual excitement while she entertained a man in her rear.
She evidently found sexual release when my cock ran up and down her colon, for she went white time and time again, gasping in happiness as her liquids broke free in her uterus and vagina.
My hands gripped her flat waist, I pumped mechanically away, her anus loose and sloppy, even for my twelve and seven-eighths, my mind on the rounded lovely buttocks of the High Madame. There, I decided, would be a tight anus and, I guessed, a very small and cozy cunt.
I still had one goal in life: to get even with the High Madame. And I'd gain that revenge by having hard, tough sex sessions with her-up her back gate, in her normal slot, between those white teeth.
But first, I'd have to catch her on the outside, for I knew the futility of trying to storm the impregnable walls of the Palace, and if Vivian's husband and the High Madame consort sexually, all I had to do was watch Vivian's errant spouse-but first I had to make certain these two were buddy-buddy.
There'd be no percentage in keeping the eagle eye on a man who wasn't being visited by the High Madame, you know.
But right now I couldn't talk to Vivian, for she groaned and threshed in the throes of love, as the poets say. Finally, her passion expended, she and I settled down to good solid cornholing.
"You like this," I mentioned.
"like it? I love it!"
I ran it in to my" testicles, feeling not an iota of excitement. "Most people say this is dirty," I said, "but to me it is natural. Did you learn it from your husband, maybe?"
"That dirty sonofabitch? He taught me nothing. But I'll bet this one he'd got now has taught him how to tongue and suck, believe you me. I've seen her on the street. She's a sporty bitch. They say she used to be a madame, and I wouldn't put it an inch beyond the sow!"
I frowned, pulling back until just my knob hung in her anus. Used to be a madame? The High Madame was still the madame, unless she'd stopped madaming the last few days since I'd been booted out of the Palace.
I decided to barge right to the point.
"Doesn't the High Madame still boss the Palace?" I innocently asked. .
"Certainly she does. Why do you ask?"
"Somebody once told me your husband and the High Madame were close friends."
Vivian laughed sourly. My penis jerked around in her rectum, because when a person laughs his belly vibrates and his anus also jumps around. I lost a stroke because of her laugh.
"What's so comical?" I asked.
"You think the High Madame would screw my husband, Oliver. Have you ever seen my old man?" "Naturally, I haven't."
"He's so fat he looks like a walking tub of shit, which is just what he is. He's got such a big belly he hasn't seen his prick in years, unless he stands in front of a mirror."
Her harsh voice glistened with hate. I almost shivered. Evidently she and her husband were very much in love, huh?
"I don't think he's ever seen the High Madame."
I pointed out that I'd heard her husband was a movie and TV producer, and she said this was true. I reminded her that according to gossip the High Madame had been a leading cinema star a few years ago before suddenly quitting the screen and TV to become madame of the big and lucrative Palace of Phallism.
'T don't know if the High Madame were ever a star, Oliver." I hesitated, my penis in her rectum to my scrotum. "That might just be idle gossip. But what makes you think my stupid rich husband is friendly with the High Madame?"
"I don't know. I think you told me so, one time, out at the Palace."
"Not I, darling."
We worked in silence for a long moment, the only sounds heard were her sharp moaning and the slop of my penis in her anus. I glanced down at her angular buttocks, my penis sliding in and out of her anus.
I noticed my fishskin was brown and sloppy-looking. Evidently she'd had to go to the John ... and hadn't. I paid this no never-mind. She loved to clean my fishskin with her tongue after each session.
My mind dwelled over her words. I had selected the wrong woman to question. Then who had told me her husband and the High Madame were close friends?
Had it been big, fat, heavy-breasted Mabel, the other old sow-the walking suet-barrel-who pestered me at the Palace?
I tried to remember all Mabel had told me, but Mabel had been vaccinated with a phonograph needle, and ran on endlessly. Therefore, it was logical that I didn't remember all our conversations, which had been many for after discovering that I had twelve and seven-eighths, Mabel came to me and me only for sexual excitement.
I pumped away, hands anchored on Vivian's skinny pelvises, wondering what business Mabel's husband was in, and deciding she'd never told me or, if she had, I'd immediately forgotten-indeed, I'd might not even listen.
Mabel loved it dog-fashion, but she wanted my foot plus in her natural female opening, not in her anus as did Vivian, who began moaning louder now, her anus closing and opening faster and faster around my fishskin.
Evidently Vivian was really enjoying this session. I was charging her only thirty bucks. I could give her two and one-half times as much for the same money she'd have spent with the High Madame.
"I'm so glad you went into business, Oliver," she cooed.
The thought came that I definitely didn't need Minnie and Gertie to back me for a house. I could work this bag of bones for enough money, for surely her rich husband paid her adequately to get the heck out of his way.
"I'm starting out small because I haven't got enough capital to rent a big house and hire other men to work for me," I said. "I don't have credit established here, either."
"I wish I could help you, Oliver, and I really mean that, love, but my husband only gives me two hundred a week for spending money, and you know how fast two hundred goes nowadays."
"Maybe Mabel will lend me some money," I said.
"Mabel?" She wriggled her buttocks back toward me, anus opening and pushing on my penis. "Do I know Mabel, darling?"
I described fat, ungainly Mabel. I didn't know her last name, either. I was sure Vivian knew Mabel because I remembered seeing her and Mabel both drinking in the Palace cocktail lounge one day, both naked, of course, for only naked women were allowed in the lounge.
Vivian and Mabel had been at the same table.
"Oh, yes, you mean Mabel Jones! Maybe you have my husband confused with Mabel's? Mabel's old man is a big movie and television producer, too-in fact, he's head of a company as big as my husband's, if not bigger."
I must have missed a stroke, for she winced and reached back between her legs and tickled my balls and said, "Naughty boy, Oliver. You hit me from the slant but it sure felt good, darling. You get all my trade from now on. I always have loathed that long mountain drive out to the Palace!"
Suddenly, I was very anxious to get rid of Vivian, for I wanted to call Mabel Jones. I then remembered the miles of Jones in the telephone directory. I needed to know what section of town my Mabel Jones lived in.
"I suppose a woman as rich as Mabel lives in a very exclusive residential section," I said. "I've always wanted a big home in a nice district."
"Mabel doesn't live in a very high-toned district. She lives out on Alameda Street."
Alameda Street ... Things were working out okay, but my heart sank when Vivian asked, "How much for an all night stand, darling? "
"Forty bucks," I said, without really thinking, for I needed money so badly I'd have jazzed the circus'fat lady for twenty.
"It's a deal," she said.
Then, suddenly, it hit me with sickening force and, for the first time, I realized what I'd done. I'd have to spend a night sleeping with and jazzing this bag of bones, and my blood sickened. Still, forty clams were forty clams, and the rent had to be paid and booze bought.
Then I remembered my good and tried fraud medical friend, one Doctor Mullholland. Vivian loved going six and nine. I didn't mind six and nine, but I sure didn't love it with Vivian's breast-free body under me, her long snatch expelling fluids into my mouth, my throat swallowing her come.
Doc would go six and nine with this bone pile, for Doc would six and nine with the devil. I'd call Doc on the quiet and invite him over for the evening. I hoped no female needed another abortion.
Vivian cooked dinner, bustling around, ugly as sin, naked as a jaybird is supposed to be. Once she turned off all the burners and went into my arms and demanded I put it to her, as she so quaintly put it.
This time, she wanted it natural, she said, but she still went on her all fours, and I got under her, my fishskin clad penis in her huge vagina, and I dutifully punched upward, my long penis reaching to the end of her vagina. Each time I hit bottom she gasped and white became more prominent on her pubic hair.
I did it with bored indifference, a job to do and nothing more. I remembered how bored I'd become at the Palace and how I'd got to think of each client merely as a fifty buck piece for me, nothing more.
Finally, our session ended, we went into the six and nine on our sides, with her cleaning my fishskin and me getting my first supper from her crotch, and then we ate and she watched the TV soap opera-her favorite, she told me-and I sneaked into the bedroom where I phoned Doc.
"Hell, yes, I'll relieve you, friend," my good friend little Doc said, and sure enough he came within the hour, acting surprised to see Vivian in my apartment.
"Why, Doctor Mullholland," Vivian said, extending her hand.
Doc bowed, kissed her scrawny paw, and said, "Miss ... Miss ... " He scowled. "Oh, this terrible memory of mine ... Oh, yes, Miss Vivian Smith? "
"Missus," Vivian corrected, "much as I hate to admit it.
"There are worse things than marriage," Doc said.
"Name just one," Vivian challenged and both laughed. I went to mix drinks. I could see Doc through the open door but not Vivian.
Doc unloosened his tie. "You're naked," he said.
"I love being naked. Surely you must have some idea what beloved Oliver and I have been doing?"
Doc slipped out of his shirt. "I think you've been playing tiddly winks," he said.
Vivian giggled. I shuddered, wondering why her husband had ever married her. Then I wondered why any man ever married.
"I like you, Doc," Vivian said. "I've liked you since the day you gave me my physical so I could enter the Palace."
"You mean the day I rammed my forefinger way up your pussy," Doc said, unbuckling his belt.
Again, that inane giggle. I had the two highballs mixed and the cold beer uncapped-I drink beer, you know-but I waited, listening to the nutty conversation and thinking how stupid the average female is.
Someday watch a group of women talking. They giggle and make gestures and snicker like idiots, making a man wonder how he could ever be so hard-up as to hit the sack with an animal that silly.
Then I remembered my naked fellow studs conversing at the Palace, each with his penis on wimpus, cock covered by prophylactic, and I changed my mind about women being loco-for a group of men are completely nuts, as witness some of the social clubs in action.
I finally came to the conclusion, once again, that the entire world was crazy, and I carried in the drinks, hoping that soon I could sneak off and call Mabel.
Doc put his drink on the table. "Thanks," he said absent-mindedly, eyes on Vivian's hairy crotch as he slipped out of his trousers and wore only socks and shorts.
Vivian sipped her drink, eyes on Doc's shorts. My heart went out to Doc Mullholland. Why had Nature played such a good, staunch friend such a dirty trick, for the Old Girl had given good old Doc just a few inches.
Mabel would be due for an unhappy surprise.
Doc sat down, pulled off his socks, took a drink, stood up and looked at Vivian, whom he'd caught in the act of running her tongue around her lips, her eyes on Doc's hips.
"May I speak bluntly, Vivian dear?"
Glass poised, Vivian giggled. "We have been speaking bluntly, haven't we, darling Doc?"
"Okay," Doc said. "I don't give a damn about doing it the way Adam did to Eve. I like it in the mouth, darling."
"Why, Doc, you've been talking to Oliver, and you two dear boys have been exchanging sweet confidences, for Oliver knows I just love to go six and nine, you sweet thing, you.
At this moment, I slipped out. The corner drugstore phone, as usual, was occupied by somebody with long hair, and I couldn't tell whether it was a man or woman, not a good goddamn.
I bought a beer in a pitch black cocktail lounge and managed to see the phone book with the aid of my lighter, and the moment I saw the Joneses I almost threw in the towel. Is every sonofabitch in the world named Jones?
Suddenly, I had a tit in my face, black nipple inches from my mouth. Unconsciously, my lips began to work, and the button quickly retreated, the G-string clad bargirl stepping hurriedly back out of reach.
"Could I bring you a flashlight, sir?"
"I'd sure appreciate it, miss."
She moved away, buttocks humming a tune, and when she delivered the flashlight she kept her discreet distance, poking the buck tip somewhere down in her G-string, and I murmured, "Oh, to be a five buck bill, huh?"
She said, sharply, "Sir!" and left.
I went down the Joneses address column, finding only seven living on Alameda, and I jotted down their addresses and waited, finally getting to the joint's phone, and I got Mabel on the first one.
"This is Oliver," I murmured huskily, cradling the mouthpiece, "and I'm very lonesome for my dear sweet Mabel."
"Oliver who?" Abruptly, curtly, and I frowned, wondering if I had the right Mabel, for she'd snapped like an angry terrier in the middle of a dog fight, but I barged ahead with, "Oliver Torcido, Mabel."
"Torcido?"
The thought came that maybe she'd never heard my last name. "From the Palace," I explained.
"I don't understand," the voice said. "Hold the line a moment, please." I held the line, wondering.
The line talked back drearily and I was on the verge of hanging up when dulcet female tones said, "Oliver, my love, my sweet. How I have missed you, darling. The Palace hasn't been the same since you left."
"Since I was bodily booted out," I corrected. "What were you doing when you left me holding a dead hunk of
Mr. Bell s invention? "
"Oh, I checked the other phones in the house. I have six others, you know, and somebody might have been listening."
"Your husband, maybe?"
"No, that dirty sonofabitch isn't home! He just comes and goes, but I've had a shitting time today, because the little upstairs maid is knocked up and she says my husband is the kid's father, and I got a hunch the fucker is, at that."
I thought, Money for Doc, and said, "Is your husband in the habit of consorting sexually with the hired help?"
"He'd fuck the Sphinx if it had an opening. I called him in Hollywood and threw it up to him and he said he'd always gone into the maid with a rubber but to get her aborted and not bother him. Do you know a good abortionist? "
My heart sang. Doc could drag down five hundred for this. "Doc Mullholland will abort her, I believe. You remember Doc?"
"Do I? When he gave me my physical at the Palace he ran two fingers up my ass-hole, and I'm still shivering with happiness for some reason. Where is he? I've been to the Palace three times, hoping you'd come back, and I haven't seen Doc either time."
I told her that Doc got heaved out when I had, and that he was now visiting me. She said she'd be right over to sec him about the abortion, but what the hell was my address?
She sounded tanked. She was, all two hundred and some odd pounds of her, huge breasts and all.
She had sense enough not to drive, taking a taxi. "Got off a block away," she panted, rolling into my apartment, "because that fucking husband of mine might have a tail on me.
My heart jumped. "He's jealous of you?" "Jealous, hell!" She wrapped huge arms around me and took me bodily to her motherly breast, and I felt her nipples under her bra harden, for she wore sandals, no hose, shorts and a bra, nothing more.
We had no conversation for a long while. The reason was simple. Her mouth ground against mine, her arms around my neck, her huge body arched on tiptoe as she kissed me, with me trying to summon a bit of courage and answer her kiss, her nipples punching twin holes in my hairy chest.
When Mabel kissed you, you got kissed. It was like being gagged with a wet towel. You have to learn how to breath all over again, but finally our kiss ended, as all things must.
"Darling, I missed you oh so much! That dirty madam e-"
I was naked now, penis properly clothed with wimpus and fishskin, and I jabbed my wimpus against her belly, making her wince and shiver at the same time, and then she got the desire to kiss again, which we did and of course another long dead silence followed.
"Fuck me right now," she whispered.
Vivian and Doc occupied one of my two bedrooms and to get to the other we had to pass their bedroom, and they'd left the door open. Mabel stopped, staring at Doc over Vivian, Doc's short penis in Vivian's mouth and his head sucking noisily, bobbing over Vivian's crotch.
"Oliver?"
"Yes?"
"That one on top-that's Doctor Mullholland?" "He rooms with me," I said.
"The thing on the bottom? That's Vivian Smith, isn't it?"
Thing? I'd figured she and Vivian as friends ... I had to think fast and lie just as fast.
"Yes, that's Mrs. Smith. She and Doctor Mullholland are going with each other, you know? "
"You mean-they're lovers?"
"Certainly."
I'd get Doc on the side, wise him up to what I'd just said.
"I've always admired Doc until this moment," the thick lips said, "but I never figured he had a taste for shit."
Vivian hadn't wised me up to the fact that she and this ambling tank of suet were not the world's closest friends, and I wish she had, but it was too late now. Vainly, I tugged the huge, dimpled elbow.
"I want to watch that Smith bitch get hers," Mabel said.
Doc and Vivian didn't see us, being wrapped in their own scarlet world of sex. Vivian lay with her eyes closed, sucking and pulling, her cheeks going in and out and Doc had his tongue rolled up tightly, shooting it in and out of Vivian's white box.
"Darling," I said, and put her big hand on my wimpused penis suggestively, and with difficulty she jerked her eyes from Doc and Vivian back to me. "I just love to see people fuck," she said.
"We can arrange the mirror," I suggested.
"Oh, let's, sweetheart! When my husband and I were first married we fucked and corn-holed and sucked in front of mirrors, and it gives one a big charge to see one's pussy being penetrated by a cock or tongue-adds much to the indoor sport, you know."
Her hand tightened on my limp penis.
"Where's our bedroom, honey?"
Our bedroom? "Next door," I murmured.
She fairly led me to my bed by my penis. She closed the door behind us, then released my limp penis and turned her huge bovine back to me. "Undress me, darling?"
She kicked off her sandals. I first unloosed her short's string. Her shorts fell down, about two yards of blue, at least. I looked down at her immense, spreading buttocks.
They ran out and out, up and down, her crack in their middle, demure and womanly. I thought of the High Madame's beautiful ass. I wondered if I were on the right track. What if her husband couldn't take me to the High
Madame?
I untied her bra's string, my penis stillborn dead. Her bra fell. Each cup could hold a gallon of water, her breasts were that huge. She was naked, now. She turned, arms going around my neck again.
Again, we kissed.
Again, a cow's tongue slopped mine. My hands went automatically down to cup her buttocks. Her rear was so wide my arms had to stretch to full length, and I have long arms.
Finally I got my hands in place, fingers spread. I tugged up on a ton of ass, my fingers going into her crack. My forefingers found her anus. I imagined my tongue lapping that huge hole, as it had done before-but when one is under passion, one does things one wouldn't do while sane.
But my prick, rubbing her bare belly, was dead and lifeless, so passion would not grip me today-but with this thought was fear that I'd lost it forever, and never again would I erect
My mouth was ashes, my throat congealed. I thought of Doc Jo and her analysis that my failure twice with the lovely High Madame had given me a psychic scar that perhaps might never be eradicated from my pride in my manhood.
Mabel's lips left mine with the sucking sound of a plumber's friend giving the last suck at a clogged toilet, and then she was on her big knees and hands on my bed, her expanse of ass staring back at me, her anus big and round and sagging open and her vulva below her anus, bigger even than her ass-hole.
"Mount me, darling," she implored, looking back at my penis between her wide-spread tree-thick legs.
I stared at her wide buttocks, looked at her anus, gawked at her huge vulva. She could take a studhorse, I was sure, in either hole, and I was a mere human-although I did have twelve and seven-eighths, when hard, and I wasn't hard now, believe you me.
Then the happy thought came that she'd spring for at least forty bucks, and some unfortunate people have to work eight hours a day for five long days for that meager sum.
This cheered me a little, but not much. "Which?"I asked.
She wriggled her enormous behind, a bitch in heat. "In the cunt, of course, like old times," she gasped. Grudgingly, I complied...
8
Again I copulated by sheer rote, my penis sloshing in and out of Mabel's huge opening, my hatred toward the double-crossing High Madame growing as I remembered my stud days at the Palace.
My logic was simple. The High Madame owned and ran the Palace. She issued all orders. Some days the front office sent me suck cases all day, and who can ejaculate in the mouths of eight women in eight hours?
I could go off three or possibly four times a shift, so most of my females were disappointed-for a female sucks to get a mouthful. And when a customer is dissatisfied with the service, she naturally registers a beef to the front office-and the front office was completely under the High Madame's orders.
Why had the High Madame had the office send me eight suck cases in one shift? Other studs usually got a suck case or two when they began shift full of masculine fluids and the rest of their women were wimpus-cases, but I had to be sucked eight hours a shift.
The High Madame had hated me. She'd given me the trial only because Minnie and Gertie-two Palace stockholders-had put pressure on her. She hated me for roughing her up when I'd known her only as Olivia. She was getting her revenge.
Mabel reached back and loved my testicles. "You're slow, darling. Did you shoot it all into Vivian?"
"Quit the needling," I said, and really began fucking this ton of ambling lard, my penis whacking upward into her gaping red cunt, my belly smacking loudly against an acre of buttocks spread out wide with crack open and anus showing as it sagged between the enormous mounds-an uninviting sight, I must admit.
"That's better, sweet."
Her big hot fingers stroke my balls. I don't like customers playing with my testicles. I consider them private property.
One woman once pulled my balls hard, in a moment of passion. She almost tore them out of my sack. Unless I knew a client real well, I gently took her hands from my testicles, afraid of another such episode.
Many whores, I understand, won't let their customers suck their nipples, for in passion-or in pure deviltry-a few have had their buttons bitten off, I have heard.
But Mabel had played with my testicles many times before and had not hurt them, so I let her hand remain. Besides, I wanted some vital information from her; therefore, I had to keep on good terms with the fat sow.
I also knew she didn't like to talk when she was being serviced, but after or before servicing her mouth ran on shutters. Therefore, I just grabbed her huge rear end and pumped, my penis making a sucking sound as it went in and out of her enormous box.
I will say this for the old girl: She tries. Her cunt opens and closes, but it's so big it can't pull down on a man. I imagine a man would have to be very hard up and have been away from a female for a long time to go off in Mabel, for putting it to her-in her vulva or anus-is just putting your penis in a warm damp place, and nothing more...
I would fake an orgasm. I'd grab her big ass and pull back as though passion tore me, spilling my testicles. She'd not know the dif. Now, her fingers loving my right testicle, she murmured, "Why do you wear a rubber in me, darling? You know I can't get pregnant, much as I'd love to have a big baby boy of yours."
"Do you want me to take it off?"
My question had her stumped, as I'd expected, for if there is one thing Mabel Jones-likes it is being fucked-or hosed, as she so inelegantly puts it. And if I took off my fishskin I'd naturally have to take my penis out of her, and that was definitely one thing Mabel didn't want ... at this time.
"You take your cock out of me," she said huskily, "and I'll tear your balls out, one at a time, and slow, slow, Oliver..."
Another sweet-talking customer, huh?
So, I kept pumping way, beating my belly against those tons of soft beef, the smell of cunt and cock rising from her hips, mingling with the scent of her anus and her smooth skin, now covered with a fine sweat as she gasped and groaned with each inward push and outward lunge of my penis.
Her skin was damp under my spread out fingers. I heard her gasping grow louder as passion spread hotly through her yards of ass, vibrating and shimmering. I looked at the dresser we'd shoved into position so we could be seen fucking in the mirror.
My fishskin clad cock came out to the knob. I was proud of the length of my penis, as any man would be if he had twelve and seven-eighths. For a long moment, my bulb hesitated in her vulva, and you could see her cunt's lips open and close, showing their red insides, the outer lips and the powerful inner lips.
My knob pushed against her clitoris. She shivered in delight and broke wind, so great was her passion as my penis slid in, hammering through her damp vagina, my balls touching her pubic hair, the roughness of her dense mat giving my testicles a tingling sensation as, for a long moment, my bulb pushed hard to go further into her, but a man has just so much and no more, even if Nature had been so kind to him that she'd endowed him with over a foot of whang.
"Oliver, fuck, fuck, fuck!" she groans. "Way back, Oliver-hit my uterus, tear me apart, darling-but fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Accordingly, I tightened my grip of her big belly, making my fingers dig her soft flesh, for she-likes to be hurt while doing it. I bit her on the back. She wriggled, tearing my teeth loose, and so great was her passion that she farted with rifle-like sharpness, her bowels rumbling like a soon-to-spout volcano.
"Do that again, honey-only bit harder this time, please!"
So I fucked her and bit her and slapped her big buttocks, for once I played I was a jockey riding a mount at Santa Anita, and as I rode I slapped her with open hands on her buttocks, first on the right mass of flesh and then on the left, with her trying to fart in unison to my resounding slaps. But, of course, she didn't have enough gas, for who can fart steadily for thirty five minutes?
And I was on her for that length of time, pumping away, slapping, biting, hitting, smelling and listening to her groans and farts, wishing I had the fair and rounded buttocks of the lovely High Madame before me and not this wide and sweating mass of female flesh.
"Doesn't your husband ever jazz you?" I asked.
"Not since I can remember when!"
Her white cream matted my pubic hair. She exuded so much that the inside of my left thigh was sticky and damp.
"Don't you ever go to the Palace any more?"
"I've been there once since you left, Oliver. I went to bed with Mike." Mike was head stud, a veteran of the cocksman's art. "But it wasn't my Oliver, because nobody-yes, nobody's-hung like my Oliver Torcido!"
'Thank you," I said, believing not a word. She'd been to the Palace more than once, for I'd been gone some days-just how many I didn't know, for Doc and I had been more or less drunk every afternoon since the guards had thrown me out on my rump.
And drinking makes one day blend into the other, you know.
"Mike's an experienced hand," I said.
"Yes, but he falls short of you by about three inches, anyway."
Palace office records will show that I have Mike bested by three and three-sixteenth inches, if my record is still in the files, which I doubt. I suppose it was thrown away when I was thrown out.
"Wonder who's doing it to the High Madame?" I ventured.
No answer, just a grunt, then her rump twisted with passion, her grunts changing to groans, the groans changing to a keening song of delight as, once again, she whirled and spewed high in sexual excitement.
I looked at the mirror. My prick was out full length. The fishskin was snow white, dripping her fluids. I looked down at her anus, directly under me. Suddenly, her anus looked very inviting. But I'd have to ask her, for she would eventually pay me; I worked for her, not her for me.
"May I?" I asked. "Your rear gate, darling?"
"You really want ... to corn-hole me, sweet?"
I wanted to see if she could erect me, for my penis was still dead, and perhaps her rear end would be tighter than her vulva, for the latter was as flexible as a drunk's penis.
"I'd love to, Mabel." I "Okay, ram it to me then, honey! No, don't use my jism to loosen me up. Just go in me without grease-and give it to me rough to your balls! Oh, how wonderful and-"
She screamed in delicious pain, and then my testicles smashed against her crack. Her anus was a bit tighter than her vulva, but my penis didn't erect a bit, just lying idle on my wimpus.
I grabbed her hips hard, deliberately making my fingers dig her flesh. Her rear came back even more, her crack disappearing and her anus lying exposed and flat with her ass, my penis going in and out, the black rim clinging and releasing my trusty fishskin.
We settled down to hard and steady cornholing, she grunting like a satisfied sow taking a boar's corkscrew prick, and I again ventured as to who was doing it to the High Madame.
"Why do you ask that, Oliver? "
"I just wondered. Conversation, nothing more. But she's getting it from somebody-she has to be, you know."
"Because with what she's got, she's bound to be sexy and demand a lot."
Mabel giggled. Her anus shivered around my fishskin, and her belly joggled. I looked at my penis in the mirror. I was again proud of its long length. I shoved it in her again, her heavy hips encasing my joy prong.
"My husband does it to her," Mabel said.
"Your husband? You're joking, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not. He's done it to her for some years now, you know. He's a movie producer in Hollywood. She used to star for him." '
"You don't say," I said.
"I do say, Oliver. Oliver, I'm sorry, pal, but I'm coming again, my love. Just hammer the hell out of my ass for a moment or two, huh? And your finger-ah, my God, what bliss!"
My forefinger played with her clitoris, coaxing it to life. She had a short little cock there, about the size of a baby's prick. Still, she might be able to bull-dagger another woman, if she got rid of her big gut.
Her little prick was too short now, with her gut so big. I felt goo hit my finger, and I marveled at her ovaries. She'd gone and gone and gone, time after time, and she again spilled whiteness, and quite a bit of it, too.
Finally, her big buttocks quieted down. She breathed deeply and I commenced again to settle down to steady prodding, occasionally glancing at my wristwatch. I'd give the old girl her money's worth.
Suddenly, a wild yipping came from the next bedroom. Doc was really giving it to Vivian, for Vivian was the one groaning in high pleasure. The thought came to me that perhaps Doc had had an orgasm, something he claimed he only had with men.
I heard sounds in the hall, and I glanced toward the door. Naked Vivian stood there, her pubic hair a matted whiteness, and she crowed, "I did it, I did it! Doc went off-and he sure filled my mouth!" .
"Congratulations," I said.
"I got the mouth," Vivian said, and looked at Mabel. "Darling, aren't you just about done with Oliver?" "Why ask that? " Mabel demanded.
"I'd like him for a while. Doc hasn't got much, you know. He's okay for the mouth, but for the other two-well, he lacks a lot."
Doc Mullholland, also naked, came into view. "No tales after or during school," he said, jabbing a thumb in Vivian's anus.
Vivian leaped a foot, clutching her buttocks, but Doc had his thumb securely fastened. "Back to the nuptial bed, female," he said, and he marched Vivian away, she dancing in front of him, his thumb still anchored in her anus.
"One way to handle them," he told me, and passed out of sight.
"I do believe," Mabel said, "that those two love each other. Vivian is the biggest goddamned liar I've ever met."
It seemed to me that Vivian had said the same thing about Mabel, but I had one job-and only one-and that was to find out where her husband and the High Madame met, and when they met.
"The High Madame was gone quite a bit from the Palace when I was out there," I said, going in to my testicles and hesitating, my knob dead in her rectum. "I guess during those times she was in Hollywood visiting your husband, huh?"
"I don't know, Oliver. I have nothing in common with my husband except that I still bear his last name, and I hate the name Jones. My maiden name was Schitzenpooper, you know."
I was getting nowhere ... fast.
"He must pay your bills, doesn't he?"
"The dirty cocksucker gives me only three hundred a week, but he built the house for me, and I've got a nice place with swimming pool and all, you know. But what can a female do on a lousy three centuries a week? "
"Go to the Palace just once a week," I sympathized, shaking my head sadly, for she was watching me in the mirror.
Suddenly she said, "Your prick is all brown. I guess I should have taken a number two first, huh?" And she giggled, her anus vibrating. "You're fucking me so hard I'm sobering up, I do believe!"
"That bad or good!"
"A woman can always get drunk," she said philosophically, "but she can't always get screwed. Aren't you about ready to blast off, lover? "
"Why ask that? You tired of being fucked?"
Again, that inane, insane, drunken giggle. Again, her anus jumping, her belly heaving.
"What a silly question, Oliver Torcido! What woman would ever get tired of being hosed? I'd like it in my pussy again, darling."
"What's wrong with your mouth?"
"Okay, my mouth, honey."
I'd made a mistake. I wanted her to tell me where her husband and the High Madame met, but who can talk with a mouth full of cock, wimpus and fishskin prophylactic?
Mabel has an enormous mouth. Although some won't believe this, she took my penis to my testicles. I realized my hips were growing tired. We'd been at this a long time.
I pulled my prick out until just the knob hung between her thick lips. "Maybe I should take my rubber off, honey?"
"I'd like to get a mouthful, Oliver."
I had talked myself into a trap. My penis had stiffened a little at the sight of Doc's bare buttocks, but when Doc had left it had immediately gone down again. I knew I could never blast off in Mabel's mouth.
I found an out. "What say I strip off my fishskin and go in you natural?" Her opening was so huge a man didn't need an erection to enter her. "You said you wanted a baby of mine. 'I'd love to give you one, honey, for I love you dearly."
"Oh, Oliver, how romantic!"
Her lips pushed my penis free and I noticed the fishskin was now clean, although her bottom lip held a trace of brown. She raised her legs and parted them, her big box gaping open, drooling and red.
"I'll take it natural now, on my back."
"Okay, honey."
I had no hard. I got behind her, my prick dangling, and I spread her legs wider, holding her by the ankles. She took hold of her ankles and pulled her legs even further back, her anus and opening clearly exposed. I went down on her, her huge breasts rock-like under my weight, her nipples hard and big and black under my chest.
With my right hand, I steered into her-I felt something slightly warm, very loose, and dripping wet, nothing more. I anchored my penis in her and then cupped her big buttocks solidly with my hands, and I went to work hitting her hard but carefully measuring the length of my stroke so my prick wouldn't flop out. Once I got things going, I went hard, for I wanted this sex deal ended and the conversation to begin.
She rose and I struck her, my head lying beside hers. She sank back and I went back, my knob hanging in her hot opening. She puffed and broke wind, hips heaving, belly rising and falling. We got going good, and then the damned phone blasted off, right beside my ear.
I felt her big carcass hesitate, then we began again-and again the phone roared. This time we both stopped, me in her to my balls. We lay there waiting and, sure enough, again the phone rang.
"You'd better answer the sonofabitching thing!" she gritted.
I picked up the phone. "Oliver here. Who's speaking." "Minnie here, darling."
"We're through," I said. "You walked out on me when I needed you most. Go to hell, baby!"
I slapped the receiver home. We began fucking again and, once again, the Bell invention yammered. Again, the big one and I had to stop, and the huge one said, "She's calling back, darling."
"Oliver here."
"Baby, this is your Gertie. I'm so sorry that Minnie and I walked out on you and-"
"Fuck you," I said shortly. "When I needed you, you deserted me!" And again I slammed the receiver home.
Mabel reached out and took the receiver off the hook and laid it on the table, and we began fucking again, with me imagining I was riding the High Madame, which required a lot of imagination when on top of big Mabel, the bed half a story below. Still, I did it and my prick began to harden.
Hope speared through me. At that moment, though, Mabel broke wind-loud, hard, stinking, and my imagination played out, the High Madame's lovely nakedness retreating into nothing. And again my penis became dishcloth limber!
It was time to end this farce. I'd fake an orgasm and climb off her. I grabbed her buttocks even harder, fingers buried in her wide crack, my hips going like mad. "I'm-I'm coming, baby..."
My hips smacked against her spread-out ass, making a loud noise. My limber prick shot in and out the warm damp huge opening. My fingers dug at her ass-hole, and she fucked wildly.
"A baby, Oliver-
A baby, darling-your baby, Oliver! Oh, I feel you coming, love! Fill me, love, fill me!" "Here-I-come ... "
I didn't put a drop in her. I lay on her for a while and then pulled out, my cock white from her activities, I looked at my prick, hanging dead over my balls, and I said, "My God, darling, you took everything out of me!"
"I'm big," she said, "and all woman ... Here, let mama kiss that, darling. I do pray you put a baby in me."
"I hope so, too," I lied.
I sat on the bed's edge. She got on her knees and put her head between my legs. She took my penis in her mouth, then licked around it and cleaned my pubic hair. Once her tongue darted under me, seeking my anus, but her tongue wasn't long enough. Finally, my penis was clean.
To her surprise, I took her back on the bed, she lying on her bovine back, her huge knockers pointing upward. I half-lay on her left breasts and found her mouth with my lips. Her arms went around me and we kissed and finally we broke with her panting, "Darling Oliver, you want to put twins in me?" and her voice sounded breathfully hopeful.
"Later," I said. "I've missed you so much, Mabel."
"The telephone ... You've broken with Minnie-with Gertie-"
I nodded.
"They're just too bitches," she said. "They just used you for your cock."
I nibbled her big ear. "I must pay you a compliment, darling, and no man can pay a greater compliment to a woman. You're a much better bed partner than the High Madame."
"The High Madame? You ever fuck her?" "Naturally. She tested me for my stud job, you know. Hasn't your husband ever told you that you were a better piece than his girl friend?"
"You've got a short memory, Oliver. I told you my husband hasn't hosed me for years. So you really think I'm better than that bitch out at the Palace? "
"Much better. There's no comparison, darling. I wonder where your husband fucks the High Madame? "
"What'd you mean by that? Whether he goes in her ass-hole, her cunt or her mouth, you mean?"
This definitely wasn't my day. "I mean, do they screw in the Palace or his office or his home or apartment or whatever he lives in? "
"He's got a home here. He spends most weekends here, I understand. I've never seen him at the Palace. So they must make connections maybe at his home here? But why are you so interested in my husband?"
"Just conversation, nothing more."
She had my penis in her hand, skinning it back and forth. Her cow-like eyes got dreamy. "You know, love, I'm getting hot pants ... again..."
Within time, penis still limber, I mounted her, using her vagina.
9
Doc Mullholland lifted his head from between Minnie's hairy crotch, his lips rimmed with Minnie's white. "Did you find out where he lives here in town, Oliver?" the fake medico asked.
He, in this case, refers to Mabel's husband.
"He's not in the phone book," I said, "and that's only natural for men as rich and famous as he is always have unlisted numbers or calls from insane nuts on the outside would drive such a man crazy."
Gertie said coldly, "Oliver, you are neglecting duties. Let me remind you that Minnie and I bought your time and Doc's instead of spending money at the Palace, but we do expect the expert attention a Palace stud gives a client!"
She spit out my penis to make this long speech. My penis lay idle-and still limp-brushing her cheek. I wondered if she were serious. A look at her eyes told me she was.
"Do you want your money back?" I asked angrily.
"Any damned time you want a refund," little Doc snapped, "I'm shoving your dough back at you, lady!"
"You're getting too big for your damned pants," I snarled.
Instantaly, her eyes softened. She took my penis in her hand. "I was just joking, darlings. But who is this he you talk about?"
Minnie had also taken Doc's prick-also limber-from between her lips. She now rolled it gently between her palms and said, "I wondered who this mysterious he was, also."
"Just keep wondering," I said sharply, "and put my prick back in your mouth, Gertie, because then you can't talk."
My penis immediately went into her soft, red-lipped mouth. She began massaging it with her lips, cheeks going in and out.
"And the same goes for you," Doc told Minnie.
Minnie scowled, kissing Doc's small penis. "What's come over you boys? You're so rough and mean today."
"Let's be blunt," I said. "You and Gertie walked out on us the other day. You didn't need us, savvy? Now maybe we don't need you, huh?"
Doc and I had decided to be rough with the girls when they'd called asking if they could come over, because we had nothing to lose and much to gain. And I've found that if a man makes himself hard to get a female will break her neck trying to get him.
"I'm sorry," Minnie said, and took Doc's penis in her mouth. My hips rose, putting my bulb on Gertie's bottom lip, and she also said, "Sorry here, too, boys. Forgive two old bitches, huh? "
"Forgiven," Doc said, and his tongue probed Minnie's vagina again.
My tongue shot into Gertie's opening. She gasped with joy, sucking harder than ever, lips pulling stiffly. My tongue rose to the red outer wall of Gertie's vulva.
"Forgiven," I also said, and my tongue shot down into white dampness again, and we all began fucking in earnest.
Yes, I'd located the address of Mabel's rich husband. I'd gone to the county tax-collector's office, saying I was interested in buying a certain piece of property, and could I inspect the city's tax rolls, please?
I could, for the records were open to the public. Within a short time, I'd located the town property of one Halliburton J. Jones, Jr., and I knew now where the High Madame got her nooky, if Mabel was right.
From now on, all was simple. All I had to do was watch the Jones house and catch the High Madame before she entered. Doc had once again remarked that my plan was completely crazy. "Have you gone insane, Oliver? "
"Doc Jo says that to remove my psychic scar I must return to the place where I received it and work back from there."
"You received it at the Palace," Doc said.
"Knock it off," I had growled. "I got it from the High Madame and got it twice-once when I thought she was Olivia and the next time at the Palace when I couldn't get a hard-on and enter her, either."
"Doc Jo is crazy," Doc Mullholland said.
"Who isn't?" I countered.
So here we were, Doc going six and nine on Minnie and me six and nine on lovely Gertie, her small cunt wrapped around my tongue, her vagina dripping white feminine juices into my hungry mouth.
But I must admit, here and now, that I wasn't up to my usual snuff sexually. The reason was simple. Big Mabel and skinny Vivian had spent last night with Doc and me for Mabel, upon hearing Vivian intended to stay all night, had suddenly decided she'd buy a one-night stand, too.
Both females, as usual, had proven sex hungry; indeed, if Doc and I had three hours combined sleep between us, we were lucky. Now we sucked and prodded with our tongues, both so sex-weary I almost fell asleep over Gertie's lovely damp box.
I would have fallen asleep, too, had not she accidentally nibbled me with her incisors, getting a bit of my penis' skin between her teeth, a pain which brought me out of threatened slumber.
"Ugugugams," she mumbled around my limp penis, so I guess she was apologizing. My tongue scooped fresh sweet come from her vagina, and I wondered if she'd ever nibbled me before, and couldn't remember a single time when her teeth had contacted my skin. Was she worried about something?
My mind switched to my penis. I washed now that Doc and I hadn't staged a love fest immediately after Vivian and
Mabel had left and just before Gertie and Minnie had arrived.
Although Doc and I had changed partners often during the long night, neither of us had had an orgasm with either Vivian or Mabel, no matter how the girls took it-up the rectum, in naturally, or between the lips. But, the moment we coupled homosexually, I had shot my wad off into Doc's hungry, pulling mouth.
And Doc, too, had immediately unloaded in my mouth.
Although Doc was elated, the bottom fell out for me. Had I, in all reality, turned completely homosexual? Would never again the lovely thighs of a lovely woman hold sexual allure for me, driving my manhood to spike-like rigidity?
Now, my penis driving in and out of Gertie's mouth, I felt utter and complete despair.
My head nestled between her lovely thighs, my tongue went by rote through its performance, scooping and loving her vagina. My tongue rubbed her clitoris; Gertie shivered and twisted in sexual excitement. Stubbornly, I kept my tongue massaging her clitoris, acting like a mean baby who persisted in keeping her hand on the doorbell button.
Whiteness gushed around my tongue. I felt her lips pull like vacuum on my penis, her tongue curling around my knob and loving it hard and swift as passion spilled from her, and I drank deep of her blowing sexual bowl.
Her come was sweet, I knew; still, today it held a trace of bitterness, for some reason. I wondered how the come of the lovely High Madame would taste. I felt sure it would be sweeter than the honey made by even the wildest of the wild bees.
Please remember I had never gone six and nine with the High Madame. When I'd tested for the Palace, she'd come as Olivia to test me in man-woman position, and in no other sexual manner.
I had had only the knob of my limp penis into her, and she'd taken no more than the bulb of my prick. The reason had been simple. My penis had been so flexible I'd not been able to get more than my knob into her tight little snatch!
Both times I had begged her to lie still for just a moment. Sometimes, when I am not completely erect upon entering, a woman needs just to lie stationary, her legs high and spread wide, I can work and the friction of her opening will harden my penis. Then, with my penis rigid, the female is free to lower her legs, dig in her heels, and begin the proper hip gesticulations so necessary to bring a man to a complete and deep ejaculation.
The High Madame had lain still for a moment, and then, with a wild wriggle, had both times thrown my flexible penis from her snatch-and each time I had gone wild with rage and had attacked her.
She had then, as related, heaved me around, six-feet and all one-ninety of me, and my sacroiliac-the small of my back-had gone out, leaving me groveling at her lovely feet, a cripple.
The dirty bitch!
I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until Gertie, my knob just outside her mouth, said shortly, "I'm not a dirty bitch I'll have you know, Oliver Torcido!"
I realized, then, I'd spoken aloud.
My head momentarily left her opening. My mouth was full and I tried to talk and couldn't so I had to swallow her come and even then my tongue stuck to my palate as I said, "You are not a dirty bitch, Gertie. I was thinking of another female, honey. Believe me, darling."
"I'm sorry I nibbled you hard, darling," she said, "but passion got the best of me. Apologies accepted."
Again, her red lips moved out, grabbed my knob, pulled my penis deep into her mouth. Again, my head lowered.
I faced a dilemma. Gertie wanted me to come in her mouth, of course, and I knew I couldn't come, and my heart was weary and sore, for after our initial explosions Doc and I had settled down to steady six and nineing, and I had blasted off three more times in his hungry mouth, with him giving me two discharges of his body's sweetness.
In other words, I'd shot my bolt with Doc. I was done until my batteries recharged. Even had my cock been in a male mouth-or rectum-I'd still not have been able to ejaculate.
Minnie knew that Doc wouldn't shoot into her mouth. She sucked Doc merely because she liked a prick in her mouth and she found satisfaction in the taste of a penis. But Gertie expected me to blast into her throat.
Somehow, I'd have to get out of this fix. I sucked noisily, idly drinking of her, my mind trying to conjure a scheme. Finally I lifted my head.
"You surely must be tired of my lying on you, darling. I'm a heavy big man, you know."
She tongued my penis to one side of her mouth. "Sweetheart, I could have you lying like this until eternity, it's so good. Aren't you close to coming, though? My jaw muscles are getting sore."
"I'm saving myself," I lied.
"I want to sample your other parts," I said. "I've missed you, darling. And I still think you're being courteous and that my weight is really heavy on you."
"Oliver, why don't you tell the truth, damn you? Why don't you admit you can't get a hard-on, you lying bastard!"
Doc raised his head. "Such vile language," he chided. "A man would think he was in a house of queers, so help me."
"Fuck you, Doc," Gertie said, spitting out my penis. "I'm done with you sonsofbitches! I know what's happened. You've been fucking each other, homos both, all night-and now Oliver can't even get a hard-on, the ass-hole!"
Doc said, "I need earplugs."
I now sat on the edge of the bed, one eye on furious Gertie, carefully watching those long scarlet fingernails, for once in rage she scraped me down the back-with both sets of nails-and my back had furrows for a week.
Minnie reared up her head from between Doc's thin legs and looked at us, twisting Doc's prick as she turned her head, and Doc grunted angrily and raised his hips, his penis pulling from Minnie's mouth.
"Watch what you're doing, woman!" the fake medico growled. "A man's only born with one prick, you know. He can't get a new one!"
"And you need a new one so bad," Minnie mourned. Then, to Gertie, "Hang onto yourself, baby. Go regular with him or let him put it up your rear gate. Even with a soft, Oliver's got more than most men."
"I thank you to keep your nose out of my affairs," Gertie told Minnie. "I'm not used to not raising a hard-on my men, you know. I sure haven't lost as much sex appeal as you, for one thing."
Minnie, wisely, held her temper. "You're shitting nobody but yourself, baby," she said. "You haven't had a natural hard since Oliver put one in you last. Those studs that you take on at the Palace all wear wimpuses and hide them with rubbers or fishskins, and you know it."
Minnie, of course, spoke truth. Gertie didn't say another word. She got on her hands and knees, lovely hard breasts hanging compactly, and spread her legs wide and said, "Do. it in my normal place, Oliver."
I got behind her, holding my cock in my right hand. I parted her snatch with my other hand, and steered my penis upward, praying I could get the knob in-for if I got the knob in, limp as I was, I knew the rest of me would follow, for a man's knob is the biggest part of his penis, you know.
How the hell, I thought, do I always get in such terrible predicaments? And what the hell manner of swordsman was I, anyway-unable to erect. I'd sure picked the wrong profession!
With my free hand, I parted Gertie's cunt, wishing it were as big as Minnie's for a man could drive a truck into Minnie and hide it. Just the old Oliver Torcido luck though, for not coupling with Minnie!
I opened Gertie until her red showed, and then I slowly introduced my knob upward, finally feeling heat touch its tip. Gertie felt hot and good, but my cock paid this heat no attention.
My hand wrapped around my twelve and seven-eighths, I gingerly twisted my penis, trying to corkscrew in my knob, which now completely filled Gertie's opening. Despair lashed me, for my knob wouldn't go through into her vagina.
Gertie's right hand came back as she balanced herself on one arm and she tried to help me, stretching her pussy from the top, forefinger hooked in it. This made things worse, for it pulled her snatch long and narrowed it in the middle, and my knob was forced out.
"Oh, sorry," she hurriedly said, finger slipping from her opening. I caught the good smell of clean womanly sexual aroma, but it also didn't effect me an iota, and once again I mentally cursed my pecker.
"Maybe if I lie on my back, Oliver?"
She rolled on her back, spread her legs wide, and looked down at my penis from between her high mounds, their dark nipples glistening lovely. I stared down at her naked, olive-skinned beauty, a catch in my throat but not a bit of response in my stupid penis!
Gertie was a lovely, no two ways about that. From the tip of her black shiny hair to the soles of her small feet she was all woman, and a more beautiful beast would be hard to find.
Small, compactly built, she looked the superb female fucking machine, and that she was, but I was no longer the superb masculine fucking machine-and she frowned in puzzlement and anger, for to her, her feminine allures were falling short, and this was an insult to her and to all womanhood, if you figure in a female's funny stupid manner.
I lowered my weight down gingerly on her beautiful breasts. They took my masculine weight without giving, as hard breasts do. Her hands went down between us. She pulled her vulva wide.
My right hand held my penis. I braced myself on my left elbow so all my weight wouldn't be on her. I pushed my prick ahead, encountering her opened cunt. Again, my knob felt warmth and dampness.
I put-my hand directly behind my bulb. I pushed it bodily into her vagina. My heart sang. I had my knob in her. Now the rest of my penis would follow. I would pump hard! My prick would stiffen in the tight confines of her cunt, in its warmth and dampness!
Her fingers withdrew. She wrapped both arms around my naked torso, gasping as my cock slid in. My left hand went down and joined my right in cupping her shapely, firm buttocks, spreading her crack so I could drive deeper into her vagina.
"Don't-move," I pleaded.
"I wo n't, darling," she whispered huskily.
I kissed her lips. She kissed me back. Her legs were way back, spread wide; her rear was up on a slant, my cock punching down. I began slow up and down motions, praying that my prick would harden.
She lay still, her nipples under me, her firm thighs solid under my prick. She gasped in short, pounding jerks. I smelled her good womanhood, a perfume in my nostrils. I felt her softness under me, the good sweetness of the human female receiving the penis of a male.
My sucking had lubricated her vagina very much. My dishrag penis slid up and down easily. I was careful not to rise too high. To have pulled my ass back too far might have jerked my knob from her. I fucked her carefully, slowly and then, gaining momentum and confidence, I began fucking harder ... and faster, sure that my prick was getting stiff.
Hope grew in me-a red rose blooming. My sinews felt good. I wanted to shout. My penis was stiffening. I had no psychic scar. Doc Jo was wrong. I was getting a hard-on. Getting, hell-I had a hard-on...
My hands clutched her svelte buttocks. I drove my forefingers against her trembling anus. I whispered, "I've got it now, baby. Thanks for the help, darling. Now fuck, baby-fuck me, Gertie!"
"Okay, sweet."
Gertie's lovely legs went down, dimpled knees bent. She dug her small heels deep into my bed for leverage, her buttocks beginning to rotate slightly. Gertie was-and is-a superb fuck, you know.
She has wonderful action. Her cunt, small and dainty, can take a cock like mine that fills her completely and twist it and massage it as it goes in and out, and within a few minutes can suck all life from it.
I rode high in the saddle, fingers loving her ass-hole, my penis sliding in and out, her warmth and female aroma enveloping me. I'd fuck her until she begged me to stop, I thought.
Then, her ass made a circular, sweeping motion-just a regular Gertie fucking move. And, to my horror and dismay, my penis slid out of her, flying out of her hot box, slapping up in limp surrender against my heaving belly.
I'd had no hard-on!
Suddenly, everything happened at once. I never knew a woman could be as strong as Gertie, at that moment. Rage gives them extra strength, I guess.
For I flew back off that bed. I realized, when I smacked my bottom hard on the hardwood floor, that little Gertie, somehow, had got both bare feet in my gut-and kicked!
I hit hard. My brains jarred and they 're not in my ass, as so many females scornfully have told me. For one red moment, all was flame and swirling smoke. Then, my brain steadied. I stared up, hardly believing my eyes.
Naked little Gertie towered over me. She looked ten-feet tall with tits as big as washtubs. She held something in her hand. A long cord trailed from this thing. The thing came down, aimed for my skull.
I saw then it was the bedside lamp. I tried to duck but the old Oliver Torcido luck was with me and I moved my head too slowly. I saw red again. Then my shoulders were flecked with hunks of the lamp. She'd busted it over my tender skull.
I remember roaring and rearing up, a mighty god coming out of destruction and choas-a god with a dead, useless prick! And then, I was down again, and I didn't know what had hit me until I saw Doc Mullholland lying belly down across my middle, his homely little face but inches away.
"She kicked me to hell and gone off her!" Doc said, as though he didn't believe his own words.
"Who did?" I asked, still dazed.
"Minnie, of course. The big fat bitch-"
I saw another lamp coming down. This time I didn't need to duck. The lamp broke across Doc's head, stunning his eyes. He tried to get off me, arms braced, mouth flopping foolishly open. Then, he fell over me again, and I realized this time not my shoulders-but my belly-were covered with broken lamp.
I roared upward again, Doc rolling down my length, and I lunged at Gertie, who had a high heeled shoe held high. The shoe came down. The old Oliver Torcido bad luck still held. I ducked too slowly ... again.
The heel hit my skull. Lights again danced, and I dived for Gertie, who didn't have the Oliver Torcido bad luck, for I smashed into the wall, head first, and bounced off. I'd missed her completely!
She'd leaped to one side, the bitch!
I got to my feet, eyes narrowed in best movie manner, and I advanced bent over, like Tarzan, and then boom-I was flat on my belly, and no Gertie was under me, and no Gertie had landed on me, either.
Minnie, the vixen, had tackled me from behind!
Something weighing a ton crashed down on the small of my back. My first thought was My goddamned sacroiliac is out again! Minnie was jumping up and down on my back in best wrestler fashion, and Minnie doesn't fight in the flyweight class.
Pain lanced my gut. I almost blacked out. Dimly, I realized Doc was knocked cold; he was no help. Now, somebody danced on my shoulders and neck, driving my nose hard against the floor.
Gertie leaped on my back, both bare feet hard and solid. I twisted and threw Minnie, and my back seemed okay. Then Gertie lucked me in the face, and don't let anybody tell you a barefooted person can't kick hard!
From then on, it was all a blur. I remembered Doc crawling to the wall and sitting there, stunned and terrified, and I landed beside him, and the two women, panting heavily, had their clothes in their hands, wearing only their bathrobes which they had taken along, planning on an all-night stand.
"We can drive to the Palace like we're dressed," Gertie said.
I pointed at the top dresser drawer, my back on fire. Minnie bent, anus opening, and got the money, went to put in under her bra-and then remembered she was naked under her robe
I looked at Gertie. To my surprise, she had tears. "I'm sorry I had to beat you, Oliver, but you must believe that I love you very, very much, sweetheart!"
I felt my hammered belly. I almost got to my feet and lunged into both, but discretion held me back. The neighbors might call in coppers. We'd all be thrown naked into the Black Maria. As it was, it was a wonder no coppers hadn't already arrived, for Minnie had howled like a turpentined panther when she'd laid little Doc low with that lamp.
"You showed your love very convincingly," I reminded.
Minnie also had tears. "We love both of you boys," she sobbed, "but what use is a man to a woman when he can't get a hard-on? "
That statement seemed logical.
The girls stopped at the door, Minnie with her hand on the knob. Gertie said, "Don't call us." "Well call you," Minnie said. They both flicked their asses and left.
10
I sat there, just plain numb. Doc sat holding his head.
"We deserved it, pal," I finally said. "We actually tried to swindle them. We knew we couldn't erect We tried to work them for their money. We should have been honest."
"Honesty never pays," Doc said. "How's your back?"
"No pain down my legs," I reported, "so my sacroiliac never slipped." Suddenly, I cocked my head. "Do I hear females coming out in the hall?"
Doc also listened. "Right," he said, "and the high heels stopped in front of our door. They've come back, the bitches. Their consciences have hurt them. They've returned to apologize!"
"Could be," I whispered.
I felt happy. I really love Minnie and Gertie, you know. Doc also loves them both. I couldn't imagine the two women being mad at me and Doc long. We'd had spats before, but never this serious.
"What ll we do?" Doc asked.
"You sneak behind the door and open it. Well rough them up a little. I'll tackle them both as they come in." "Okay, buddy."
Silently, we got afoot. My back had no pain. Doc tiptoed to the door. He slowly took the knob. Somebody knocked lightly. Doc ripped open the door. I went into hurried action.
The female stood with arm stretched to knock again. I fastened both hands around her wrist. I jerked her into the room. Too late I saw it was not Minnie or Gertie.
The female wore a blue halter, blue shorts and blue high heels. Twin torpedoes projected out, straining the cloth of the halter terribly. I'd have known those torpedoes even if they'd been on a submarine.
Doc Jo, my analyst!
We hit the deck together, me twisting her around. I landed on those torpedoes, and they didn't explode-but she did.
"Get off me, Oliver Torcido, you big good-for-nothing sonofabitch!"
Doc stared down at her. "She knows your name," he said foolishly. "I am Doctor Mullholland, M.D."
"M.D., shit!" Doc Jo said. "I've heard of you, you medical fraud, you abortionist-and your bought degree!" Fuming, she climbed to her feet, fists doubled.
"I do not tolerate insults to my person or to my academic standing," Doc Mullholland said shortly, but Doc Jo had no respect for either-for she just swung.
She clipped Doc Mullholland flush on the jaw. Doc went back, hit the bed, and settled down, dazed but not out. Then, the psychiatrist was on me, torpedoes and all.
We had quite a set-to.
She didn't hit. Remember, she'd worked mental hospitals, and had undoubtedly taken courses in self-defense against unruly patients, and apparently she judged me an unruly patient, for she sent me flying against the wall.
By this time, Doc Mullholland had got to his feet. Whether he tackled her or she just jumped him while he was lurching around, I never did find out. But he soon lay on the floor, clutching his testicles.
I got to my feet and she whirled and faced me, arms down low and fingers working. I stopped. I stared at her mouth. It was rimmed with white froth, she was that mad.
I remembered the beautiful mouth taking my limp penis so delicately, so tenderly, and sucking it, trying in vain to get it hard. Then, the mouth had been soft, feminine; now, it was hard, ugly.
Doc Mullholland wailed, "She kicked me in the nuts, Oliver!"
"I never kicked you!" Doc Jo corrected, her narrowed eyes watching me. "I kneed you, you fraud!" Then, to me, "What's on your mind, Oliver?"
"One of your torpedoes sticks out naked," I said.
She glanced down. Her right breast had popped out of the halter, the dark nipple staring at me accusingly.
"Don't trip the trigger," I said. "That thing's pointing right at my head!"
With difficulty, she somehow managed to cram the breast back in, a job that would make putting toothpaste hack into a tube look easy. But, at last, that torpedo was covered.
"What ever possessed you boys?" she demanded.
Doc took his hands from his testicles. "They feel okay now. If there was any doubt as to my sterility before, there is none now. We thought you were Minnie and Gertie returning."
"Explain, please?" Doc Jo turned to me, torpedoes cutting a wide arc, and I brought her up to date.
When I was done, she put her finger to her lips. "I see ... You couldn't erect again, huh, Oliver?"
"Don't rub it in," I growled.
Doc said, "He can get a hard on around me."
I whirled on the little false medico. "Goddamn it, don't tell tales out of school!"
"I forgot," Doc Mullholland said.
"Maybe your homosexual desires have overcome your desire for normal sex," Doc Jo said. "Your ego has defeated your id, or vice versa. I have talked your case over with five of my colleagues, Oliver."
"Here we go," I told Doc Mullholland.
Doc Jo paid my sarcasm no attention. "We psychiatrists all agreed that you should again have sex with the High Madame."
"Why did you say that? " I asked.
"The High Madame has hurt your manly pride. To a man, the most precious item is his ability to copulate, and you failed to do so with the High Madame-"
She paused, eyes narrowing. Her eyes went from my big limp dong to Doc Mullholland's little penis.
She wet her lips. "Do you two boys always walk around nude? " Her voice sounded strained. "Most of the time," I said.
Doc Mullholland said, "Why not join us, my lovely?"
"Well ... " she said, wetting her lips, eyes on my peter.
"We need company," Doc Mullholland said.
Her hands went behind her. She began taking off her halter. Finally she said, "Oliver, my top catch, please..."
I went behind her, smelling her healthy female perfume. Her halter had hooks and eyes. The top hook was caught, and it had a reason. Her huge breasts put a terrible strain on the poor hook, pulling it hard against its eye.
Finally, I got the hook free. Her halter popped out like a hand had pulled it from the front.
Doc Mullholland fastened his eyes on her huge breastworks. "Did you ever have a bra or halter shoot clean across the room?" he asked, voice hoarse.
Doc Jo didn't answer, for I'd reached down into her shorts from behind. She wore nothing underneath the shorts and my forefinger loved her crack and danced around her anus. "That sure tickles good," she murmured dreamily.
Within seconds, she was quit of her shorts and high heels and we were three nudes, but not nude in Paradise.
Her words dripped honey. "I don't know what possesses me around you, Oliver, but the moment I see you I want to go nude."
Fear struck me. I remembered my inability to erect. I looked at Doc Mullholland, who stared back at me, his soul in his eyes, for he too apparently suddenly had remembered his inability to erect around females.
What had we talked ourselves into, anyway? My backbone stiffened as I got angry at myself. Twenty-one, six-feet even, one-hundred and ninety pounds of hard muscle, and here stood this lovely, tip-breasted, small waisted female, one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen, dressed or undressed-and I was afraid I couldn't get an erection?
Sure youll get a hard-on, Torcido.
We took her on the floor, Doc Mullholland and I, buddies even to the point of sharing the same woman. Doc Mullholland came forward on hands and knees and then went over on his back, legs sliding out from under him and going into the air, his short penis hanging over his scrotum as though in challenge to Doc Jo's red lips.
If Doc Jo were challenged, she immediately accepted it. She went on all fours, face pointed toward Doc Mullholland's head, and his penis went into her mouth. I looked down at Doc and, unseen my Doc Jo, motioned that he get her head over his mouth.
Accordingly, he sat up and leaned forward, arms going over Doc Jo's back, his right hand catching inside her buttock. Then he carefully, slowly, leaned back, his right hand catching inside her buttock. Then he carefully, slowly, leaned back, turning her delectable rump until, at last, his head was between her legs.
Both of his arms now went around her butt, pulling her cunt down over his face. He went to work with slopping joy. I got behind his head and her ass, my penis in my hand, my eyes on her small anus.
Her rump wriggled back and forth over Doc's mouth, and I heard Doc Jo's slopping sucks on Doc Mullholland's prick. Her anus was not steady, moving in a circle first, then up and down, and doubt filled me for my penis was limp and her anus looked very, very small.
Doc looked up at me, eyes twinkling. He was in seventh heaven, as the saying goes. I realized, with sinking heart, I couldn't force my limp penis into Doc Jo's ass-hole-I'd have to use a wimpus.
I closed my eyes, fighting my terror and heartbreak. I do not like to have to use a wimpus and fishskin, for I like to feel a woman around my stiff penis-a live, gasping, moist cunt or gripping hot anus. I like the feel of a woman's whiteness on my bare prick and the rub of her anal ring against a nude penis.
I had to use a wimpus and a fishskin at the Palace, yes-but what man, god, saint or devil-can fuck eight hours straight a day, day after day, and still erect for each client?
An impossibility read about only in those fantastic sex books where a hero fucks and fucks and his penis never falters or becomes soft regardless how long and often it is utilized ...
I wanted to make Doc Jo happy, too. I had a feeling that, despite her rough exterior, she liked me and wanted me to be happy, too. But above all I had hopes of some day starting my own palace of phallism and I wanted her for a regular customer, for she undoubtedly made good money.
I looked down her straight, lovely back. Her red head rose and fell as she skinned up and down on Doc Mullholland's wee pecker. I got slowly to my feet. I took my wimpus and fishskin into the John. When again I knelt behind her pitching buttocks, my twelve and seven-eighths was properly clad in condom, my trusty wimpus holding my penis jutting at a correct angle.
I knelt, Doc's head between my knees, my scrotum resting on his forehead as I greased my fishskin properly. This done, I scooped much Vaseline on my right forefinger. This I spread around Doc Jo's anus and then my finger entered her puckered brown hole, for I wished to thoroughly lubricate inside.
"Oh, how wonderful!"
Her mouth momentarily left Doc Mullholland's penis. She looked back at me with lovely red head cocked, a trace of slobber around her lips which were not red now, for she'd worn off her lipstick on Doc Mullholland's penis.
"Wimpus and all, huh, Oliver?" Then to Doc Mullholland. "Did any woman ever suck anything out of your little cock? "
"One did. Just the other day."
"She must have been an expert ... and then some," Doc Jo said, her mouth again surrounding Doc Mullholland's wee penis.
Her anus opened and closed. I lay the tip of my condom against it. The moment my greased fishskin touched her ass-hole her hips worked down harder against Doc Mullholland's sucking mouth.
Doc suddenly swallowed faster and harder. My penis against her anus had driven her to extra sexual excitement and Doc Mullholland had had more to swallow.
Carefully, I pushed forward, my knob straining to enter her rectum, but my knob was too big, even though greased. I pushed harder, feeling my wimpus bend slightly; still, my bulb wouldn't enter. I began to sweat but I continued pushing, braced on my knees.
I couldn't do it. I just had too much cock and she too small an ass-hole. Doc Jo was the one who got my knob into her rectum.
Resting her lovely head on Doc Mullholland's testicles, she reached both hands back, buried her fingers in her crack and spread her buttocks savagely, little fingers digging her tanned skin.
Her ass-hole spread enticingly wide. She pulled so hard I could see the red inner anal ring. I pushed harder; my bulb went in. Elation filled me. I watched the rest of my long dong slide into her ass-hole.
Again, she braced herself on her hands, head rising and falling over Doc Mullholland's penis.
Her colon was very tight although later she'd told me she.d had it up the rectum many, many times. Fucked in the ass, she said, was her favorite medium of sexual expression.
Even with condom on, I could feel my penis push into something soft and mushy. I looked down at her lovely behind. My hands gripped her small waist. Her hips spread below me and my cock was deep in her ass-hole, her crack spread wide.
I began back and forth pushings, my scrotum scraping over Doc Mullholland's nose. Occasionally Doc Mullholland's tongue left her opening and shot up to lick my balls, making me tingle with sexual lust ... but my penis stiffened not an iota.
I realized that I had to do something. By some hook or crook, I had to become a man again! I remembered Doc Jo saying that I would have to return and face my problem. That meant, then, I must again attempt to have sex with the lovely High Madame?
I put my puzzlement into words.
Doc Jo raised her head, listening carefully to me, but Doc Mullholland made a lot of noise, so I told him to calm down. Immediately, his lapping became a mere sibilant whisper.
Doc Jo listened, the ball of Doc's penis hanging to her bottom lip. "Yes, all six of us agreed that once again you should go to bed with the High Madame, Oliver, and, in conquering her, you'd discover that you are once again a man, you know."
"And I'd get a hard-on fast again?"
"We think so, if you can erect and mount her-something you tell me you failed to do twice. Do you think that if you and she were alone naked you could erect and impale her in proper or improper fashion?"
"I'd fuck her if it killed me," I said, and meant it. I'd get a hard-on around her. I knew that. Something inside told me that.
"You should return to the scenes-the environment-where you failed, Oliver, and such a match should take place there, darling."
Doc had stopped lapping. He listened, eyes bright as he looked up at me around my penis.
'T can't get into the Palace," I told her. "Guards would beat the shit out of me if I tried. And nobody could climb those high stone walls. They've got glass set in concrete on top."
"You met her first in a motel, didn't you?"
I gave her the motel's name. She nibbled on Doc's bulb, eyes thoughtful. She said, "I am a dedicated person, you know."
I said nothing. Doc licked her vulva's outer red lips thoughtfully, making no noise, not wanting to break the serious mood of the present.
"I am dedicated to helping people cure themselves of mental ailments. To me my patient is my world, Oliver, and you are my patient. Sometimes I test for the High Madame, you know."
"You-test-new possible studs?"
"Yes, I am the Anus Girl, they call me. I test them on rectal injections. It's an easy way-and a happy way-to make a hundred bucks, you know."
"You didn't test me," I said. "I was tested in ass-hole by Jackie first." I remembered, suddenly, that Jackie had had red hair like Doc Jo had, and then I remembered Jackie had been much bigger with smaller breasts.
"I know Jackie," she said, Doc's cock bobbing on her bottom lip as she talked. "Was Jackie adequate?"
"Her anus was terribly loose," I said, "and I guess she took a lot up it in her time, and then I got tested again in the anus by May."
"You had two anal tests?"
"Something was wrong with the first one. I think afterward Jackie got drunk and forgot to grade me right away and the High Madame wants a test-girl to grade a possible stud immediately, I heard. This way the incident is fresh in the test-girl's memory. All personal small details then can be recorded before forgotten."
"I believe you must have been Jackie's last test job," Doc Jo said, "because she got canned right after that and I became the High Madame's chief anus girl. Yes, I can see why May tested you for ass-hole later. What did you think of May's ability?"
I told her that May was very educated and competent. I remembered her small anus opening and grabbing around my cock, which had been stone hard at that time.
"I hate to get personal, darling Oliver, but do you think I am better cornholing than May? "
May had her beat the proverbial country mile, but who'd be ignorant enough to say so at this time, for I felt sure this woman was going to help me in some way. "She's a raw amateur compared to you, Doc Jo sweet."
"You are a nice man, Oliver. Now I'm going to suck at Doc's nothing here and you continue up my rectum and Doc continue lapping and I'm going to do a little thinking and maybe I can work out something, Oliver."
Again, Doc's little penis went into her mouth. Her head began rising and falling, red hair glistening. My penis went to its roots in her rectum, my balls dragging again across Doc Mullholland V nose as his tongue, rolled and extended, probed her clitoris, making her shiver in double delight from my prick and his tongue.
She really must have given Doc Mullholland a load that time, for he swallowed three times in quick succession. I pushed and pulled mechanically in her tight rectum, waiting for my penis to get hard-but I might just as well have waited for the Sphynx to get the mating urge.
But I was out to please her, for one never knows what the future holds. Suddenly, her red head reared up, Doc's penis once again dangling like a forgotten cigarette on her bottom lip.
Doc stopped sucking. I was on the deep inward stroke, my wimpus-bound penis deep in her colon. I remained like that, my penis buried to its roots in her brown expanded ass-hole.
"I've got it," she said.
I waited, heart hammering. Doc Mullholland breathed deeply, his hot breath on my scrotum.
"Anything for a client," she said, and added, "Minnie and Gertie are both paying me to help you, now."
Good old Minnie and Gertie! I felt on my right ribs. Minnie-or Gertie-had kicked me there, and hard. My ribs were very tender. How sweet and good it is to have such sweet and good female friends!
"I'll call the High Madame. I'll tell her I have a wonderful prospective stud for the Palace. She's always on the watch for young, strong-backed, long-peckered studs, you know. They're her stock in trade."
I thought of the misery I'd gone through to get the name and address of fat Mabel's husband. I saw myself again with my wimpus-covered prick up Mabel's big anus, her bigger female box, and with her mouth around my penis, pulling and tugging, and her mouth as loose as her anus.
Not to mention searching Official Records, also!
"Darling Jo," I said, "I love you. Where will I again meet the High Madame?"
"Let's fuck awhile," Doc Jo said, and pulled on Doc's cock. Doc licked my scrotum, then shot his tongue into Doc Jo's oozing font. I began pushing and pulling, my hands gripping her buttocks but my penis making no response.
Again, naked despair tugged me, sickening my soul. Perhaps I wouldn't erect around the High Madame! This time, if she laid a hand on me, I'd slap her silly, keeping out of her reach-for judo is no good when a person can't lay his hands on your person, you know. No, I'd erect, and fast-Now Doc Jo's sweet voice cut in. "I have it all outlined. I'll call her and tell her you have thirteen inches plus by actual measurement, soft penis, and when hard it will hit around fifteen inches, and you can erect immediately, Oliver sweet."
Doc Mullholland gently licked my testicles, his unique way of telling me he was happy for me.
"And where will we meet?" I asked hoarsely.
She evaded my question. "Shell come to test you when she hears me say you have fifteen inches, and she always tests alone-that is, nobody comes with her because she-likes to move in secret."
"Where will she test me?" I repeated, even hoarser now.
Again, no direct answer. "Boys, fuck me hard. Doc, jab your tongue high, and scoop widely. Oliver, hose me in the ass like there's no tomorrow. Okay, boys let's all start."
Doc shot his tongue into her. I grabbed her hips hard, mad at her, my penis shooting in and out, my balls smacking against her crack. We fucked in harsh, hard slobbering swiftness, and then she spit out Doc Mullholland's prick, twisted her red head, looked back at me.
I stopped, poised over her delectable buttocks. Doc again laved my scrotum, sending tinglings through me. "You ll meet her at the same motel," she said.
11
Doc Mullholland tenderly washed his short penis over the washbowl. "Not much," he said, "but all I've got and ever will have. I've read ads where they sell a cream a woman can use on her breasts and make them grow."
I stripped of fishskin and carefully washed my condom under the bathtub faucet. "You sent for some and tried it on your cock? " I said.
Doc dried his penis gently with a soft towel. "Never done a damned bit of good and I used up thirty odd bucks worth of cream. Might even have made it grow smaller, pal."
He studdied his penis, lying on the towel, and I also studied it, wondering why Nature would endow a burro with a long hard cock and a man as nice as Doc Mullholland with a mere sprig. Nature is an odd dame at times , . .
"What makes your cock so big?" Doc asked.
"I really don't know," I truthfully admitted. "My brother Mack has a tiny little thing, almost as small as yours. He's the only brother I've got. My two sisters have big boxes."
"How do you know? You go incest?"
"Hell, no! I don't like the insinuation, Doc."
"Jezzus, Oliver, you are touchy, man. I was smiling, ala Trampas."
"Trampas? You mean on TV?"
"The same, but first in a famous Western novel. 'When you call me a sonofabitch, smile,'and that sort of shit, you know. I'm smiling, pal."
I put a hand on his bare shoulder. Thrills shot through me and my penis jerked and showed life. My God, I was homo-all homo-one hundred percent homo! God strike me dead, because now I can never, never be a professional stud, my life's ambition and goal!. . .
"Your two sisters..." Doc prompted.
"Oh, my young uncle-a year younger than me-he fucked them both and said they had enormous boxes."
"Uncle? Hell, that's incest, pal."
"He's an uncle by marriage, not by blood."
"Oh," Doc Mullholland said, slipping into his shorts. The moment his ass-hole was hidden, my penis became normal-long and heavy and draped over my balls in limp abandon.
"Doc Jo isn't arranging this date for love," Doc Mullholland said. "Minnie and Gertie are paying her plenty. Those two still love us, Oliver."
I again felt of a sore rib. "They show their love in odd ways," I said.
"Doc Jo said she'd call back tomorrow," Doc Mullholland said. "I wonder if there's anything special a man can eat to make him have a hard-on? "
'They eat ground up rhinoceros horn in the Orient, I've heard."
"I've read that crap, too, and I've read where that's a fallacy-just like taking Spanish Fly is a fallacy, too."
"I could go on an LSD binge, maybe? A trip?"
"Then you'd never get a hard-on. You probably wouldn't even see the High madame if Doc Jo can arrange to have her meet you at that motel. Hell, you might not even see the motel!"
"ll! just eat hearty and get a good night's sleep."
"And I'll go to my room tonight, Oliver, so well not be tempted, you and I, to couple Hollywood style."
"Good idea."
I spent a restless night. The phone rang three times between nine and midnight and I didn't answer, for I felt sure it was either Gertie or Minnie, or both. Doc Jo had said she wouldn't call until tomorrow.
Toward morning I woke up with a very slight hard, one that a man could pull in masturbation. This was indeed an encouraging sign. My heart sang within me. I looked back hurriedly and realized I'd dreamed I'd been putting my prick in the High Madame's hot, hungry mouth.
She'd just begun to massage it with tongue and lips when I'd jerked awake. I'd been lucky I'd awakened before having an orgasm, because I had to save all I had for today's encounter with the High Madame.
But I didn't meet her that day ... or the next. She was not at the Palace, Doc Jo reported. Nobody seemed to know where she'd gone. I had a hunch she was shacked up with Mabel's husband, but of course had no way of proving this.
Mabel and Vivian called. Both wanted sexual relief. I stalled them off, saying I wasn't feeling too well. Both then sent over their private doctors. The doctors tested me and informed me I was in tiptop physical condition.
"Just like a young stud-hoarse," one said, closing his bag.
I told neither M.D. about my lack of sexual ability. I would have felt embarrassed had I ventured to mention such a thing. A psychic scar, I now realized, effects a person's entire personality and body. They are terrible things to carry.
Gertie and Minnie called. I told them both, rather impolitely, to kiss my ass-and those were the exact words I used. Both oozed apologies. Both wanted to come over.
"Stay away, you goddamned harpies," I snarled, hating myself while I growled, for both had been very, very good to me.
"Oliver, I love you," big Minnie breathed. And lovely dark-haired Gertie said softly, "Someday, sweetheart, in bed ... soon, huh?" "Go suck my peter," I told her.
She sighed. "I would, darling, but your peter, unhappily, isn't within sucking range. Bye until you're in a better humor."
"Which will be never!" I slammed home the receiver.
Then, I sat on my bunk and bawled. So help me, I yelped like a pregnant sophomore who had to tell mama and papa the president of the senior class had put it to her ... sans rubber.
A thousand terrible thoughts flashed through my mind, foremost being the one that now my proposed Palace of Phallism-backed by Minnie and Gertie and my hard cock-would never materialize.
I knew Gertie and Minnie, somehow, could raise the money to put me in business, but what good would I be if I couldn't erect? This might sound crazy-and illogical-but my prick had ruined my future ... at least in a money-making sense.
Doc called faithfully, my good friend. He had two abortion cases in one night. Doc Jo had sent the women to him.
"They were Doc Jo's patients. I'm getting a great reputation as an abortionist, pal. Doc Jo says she maybe can get other head-shrinkers to send me abortion cases. I take no woman that has gone three months through, you know."
I nodded, listening idly.
"After three months the foetus is well developed and there's a danger, even though all instruments are sterilized and the doctor is an expert. I'm not putting my head into the pen, you know."
Again, I nodded, mumbling something.
A long pause and then, "Pal, are there any good signs?"
I realized my cock was tingling and threatening to stand up. I realized, also, that the sound of Doc Mullholland's voice, womanly and sweet and high-pitched, had affected my penis.
"Not a one," I hurriedly said.
Doc sighed. "I'll be honest, buddy. My mouth is dry. It needs a lubricant. I've got a smoking hot ass, brother."
I wet my lips. My cock now strained my shorts. "Doc, I got to take this test, if and when Doc Jo ever locates the High Madame. Doc, after that, good old pal-"
"I know, Oliver. Good luck, amigo."
He hung up. I started skinning my cock back and forth. Since boyhood I've masturbated when no female-or male-was around. Usually I can pull my penis up to ejaculation easily.
But today a strange thing happened. The more I pulled on my dong the softer it got, not harder. Finally it lay in my hand dead and inert. I grew angry. If I could have bent double, I do believe I'd have bit the goddamned thing off!
"You double-crossing bastard," I told my penis.
Of course, I got no answer.
I kept everybody away. For four days I lived like a hermit. I watched TV and went to sleep in my chair watching the idiot tube. I cooked and washed my dishes and made my bed and cleaned my apartment. I was a good little housewife with a limp useless prick instead of a hot cunt.
Gertie and Minnie called faithfully. Just as faithfully I told them where to head in. After they called and if the phone rang again I didn't answer it, for Doc Jo said she'd give me four rings and then she'd hang up and I'd then ring her. That was our signal.
I grew restless, angry at the world, mad at myself and my fellow humans. I kicked an ottoman so hard my big toe later lost its toenail. Naked in my big chair, I scrounged down, eyes on my penis-hating the limp dead thing that, up to now, had served me in wonderful fashion except during my final test as a possible stud and during my labors in the Palace of the High Madame.
I leaned back. I closed my throbbing eyes. I'd slept so poorly my eyes felt as though sand was under my lids.
I made myself see cunt, cunt, cunt. Cunts floated by me-big cunts, little cunts, medium-sized cunts, drooling cunts, dry cunts-cunt, cunt, and more cunt.
I tried to remember the best cunt my penis had ever entered. I compared the hundreds of women I had screwed ... yes, hundreds, for I'd spent sixteen days at the Palace and I'd had eight females a day and sixteen times eight was-
I did mental arithmetic. Figures blurred, jumped. Finally I decided on one hundred and twenty-eight cunts at the Palace, alone...
Cunt, I though, and then thought of my penis, and it was dead as usual.
I then thought anus. Anus, ass-hole, anus, ass-hole, anus-get hard, my prick, and I saw anuses. Big ones like Mabel's sagging ass-hole, small openings like Doc Jo's dainty anus, medium-sized ones like Gertie's ... Anuses floated by, some almost devoid of hair, others covered with hair, some needing a bath, others so clean they glistened like polished black sole leather...
And, it still lay lifeless, unmoving...
I then thought mouth. Big mouths, small mouths, medium-sized mouths, some with hard sucking lips, others without strong lips ... And I thought throat, with my penis way down in a female's throat, her sucking and pulling, and then my testicles shooting, jabbing, ejaculating ... Still, lying there dead, not moving...
I stood up. Shit, what's the use? I can't get a hard-on around the High Madame, even if I get a chance to meet her. And then it hit me...
What was it? It was hate-burning, terrible, driving hate! Hate toward the lovely High Madame, naked, high-breasted, dark of pubic hair, the woman who had broken me mentally, given me this terrible psychic scar that, in turn, had made me a sexual cripple with long, dangling, limp dong...
I now thought murder...
I got to my feel. I paced the floor, jaybird naked. I imagined myself shoving a penis so big into the High Ma dame's ass-hole that she was troubled with piles the rest of her life.
I pounded one fist against the other. Then, I stopped, surprised. I looked down. My cock stood out rigid as a long board.
What had happened? I got it, then. I was mad-insanely mad-at the High Madame. I could gladly-happily-kill her ... And my hate had driven my penis to terrible stiff erection!
I spread my legs wide. I stared down at my hard long cock. It stuck up at an abrupt angle. My knob had swollen. It was as big as a small apple. My pee-hole gaped open.
My cock ran out like a small short hose. It was anchored solidly in my hairy crotch. Below my penis lay my scrotum, my bag shriveled and my testicles pulled up high and in, like they always are just as I'm ready to go off.
I took my prick in my right hand. My hand looked small against the jabbing length. I wagged my penis up and down like a semaphore arm. It went up and down protestingly, it was that stiff.
Come on, High Madame!
I began skinning my penis back and forth, the foreskin sliding over my knob and then back. I hunched like a dog screwing a watermelon. I would jack myself off, and happiness struck me.
Just then, the phone roared.
Startled, I jerked upright, penis forgotten. I cocked my aching head, listening. One ring, two, three, four-no more. Doc Jo...
"Oliver, darling."
"Yes, Jo, sweet ... "
"I contacted the High Madame, darling. Shell meet you at the motel in the same room, and I've called the motel and the room is reserved. You remember the number? "
"Could I ever forget it? Room Thirteen!"
"Thirteen it is, sweet. Your new name is Ben Johnson. She became rather excited when I mentioned you had over fifteen inches. Oh, I did it brown. She's a connoisseur of stiff long pricks, you know."
"That's her trade, Jo."
A long, hot sigh. "Darling, how I hope-and pray-you erect and your psychic scar is forever gone. I am sure this will work. I've had husbands come to me whose wives said the husbands couldn't erect and I've put those husbands in bed with a little whore I know-a sweet little thing-and all of them-yes, all!-have immediately erected and climbed on my little whore friend."
I listened impatiently. Whore friend? She'd probably erected the bored husband herself!
"And I also-"
"Jo, please. What time, honey?"
"Oh, yes, the High Madame. Let me see-it's one now. Oh, she'll be there at two sharp, honey."
I looked down at my penis. To my dismay it lay completely dead again. Think hate, I thought, and think murder, Oliver Torcido.
I thought hate. I thought murder. My cock didn't think hate or murder, though. Not a movement Could I do it to the High Madame?
"Oliver, are you still there? "
"I am," I said, "but my penis isn't!"
12
The High Madame might have recognized my red Mustang so I took a cab to the motel. I stepped out-Oliver Torcido, twenty-one, six-feet-even, one-hundred and ninety pounds, with twelve and seven-eighths when hard and about ten and one-half when soft, and right now I owned the ten some plus, not the twelve and seven-eighths.
"Mr. Ben Johnson, sir," I told the clerk.
"Oh, yes, the lady called." The baldheaded clerk took a key from a slot. He'd been clerk when I'd been at this motel undergoing Palace sexual tests, but apparently he didn't recognize me-and I was glad for that.
But he'd seen hundreds come and go since then, for I knew this motel sometimes rented out the same bed at least six times a night, for they came and fucked and then left, and the maids just changed sheets ... sometimes, that is. . .
I went to old Nunber 13. I stood inside the door, looking around. Here I had put it up Jackie's anus in my first test, anal penetration. Red-haired Jackie, naked, had knelt on that bed, lovely with widely-parted buttocks, and my hard stiff penis had penetrated her ass-hole, straightening out the great bend in her colon.
But Jackie had loused the test results up and I'd then punched the anus of honey-blonde little May on that bed, and I'd passed that test. Then had come huge breasted Millie, who tested me on going off between her enormous breasts, a test I'd successfully passed with her timing me with a stop watch.
Then had come dark-haired, olive skinned Paula who had had me go off between her clamped thighs, halfway between buttocks and knees, and Annette, dark and French, had tested my cunt-lapping, which I also passed, and then had come the High Madame, calling herself Olivia, and she would test me Adam-and-Eve, me on top of her with it in the natural hole ... and I'd failed to erect. . .
Yes, this room held memories ... some good, some bad...
I glanced at my watch. I just had time to hurriedly undress. A few minutes later, I stood in my birthday clothes in front of the full-length mirror. Muscular, tough, big, I stood there ... with a limp dead penis...
I thought hate. I thought murder. My penis thought nothing. It had gone completely to sleep!
It lay slack over my testicles, nestling in my pubic hair, completely unaware of the world and the world's demands on me ... and on it.
I started to dress again. There was no use. I couldn't get a hard-on. For the third time I'd fail to erect for the beautiful High Madame.
Doc Jo had done her best. I was thankful to her, but it was no dice. I sat down and pulled on my socks-and then I heard car tires grate on the asphalt outside. I ran to the window. I pulled back the corner of the curtain and looked out. And my heart leaped and sank, at the same time.
The High Madame had stopped her blue Mercedes-Benz before my door. She came out, naked left leg extended, naked right leg following and she stood, looking at my door, her body flowing, lovely, with her wearing only sandals, halter and shorts-a vision of blonde-haired loveliness, her sweet blue eyes searching my door, a slight frown between her puckered eyebrows.
Hurriedly, I tore off my socks. When she rapped, I was beside the door. "Mr. Ben Johnson, please?"
"Yes," I said, and opened the door.
I was behind the door when she entered. She came five feet into the room, I smelled her faint good perfume, and then she looked about, for I was behind her. Then she turned and saw me and I'll never forget that moment when I closed the door and locked it, throwing the key under the bed.
She said but one word, "You?"
Her red lips spat the word in utter derision. The word smashed into my ears. It drove redness across my brain. It made me think hate. Murder lust flared inside my raw guts.
"Mr. Ben Johnson," she said shortly. "Old Oliver Torcido, and me tricked-and I'll get that Doc Jo's ass, so help me, if I have to eat it off myself!"
I stepped forward. She stepped back. I looked at her breasts. Never before-or since-have I seen such large, lovely breasts. Now, of course, a scant halter covered them, but it hid only their dark nipples.
I reached out. I snagged the halter in front. I jerked her toward me. The halter broke. I held only a piece of cloth. She slapped me hard on the cheek, her huge breasts, now naked, swinging as she struck.
The blow did something to me. I grabbed her and lifted her and, as I carried her kicking and biting to the bed, I tore her shorts from her, one-half of the shorts sliding down each leg.
She wore no panties. She'd come to test a stud and she'd worn only enough to pass on the streets. Her cunt lay open and damp and lovely. She bit me, at that moment, on the left ear.
I yelped with pain. I threw her on the bed. Her teeth almost took my ear with her, but my ear still clung to my skull. She landed on her back. Her legs flew wide and up.
I acted fast. Before she could close her legs, I was on my knees behind her. I grabbed a wonderful ankle in each hand. I rocked her back and spread her legs wider and then-a miracle happened...
Doc Jo was right, damn her!
For something brushed the knob of my penis. I glanced down in alarm, hope spearing through me-and this time hope didn't die aborning.
For I had an erection-a long, huge, big, hard-knobbed hard!
My cock stood out a good foot in front of me. My knob had brushed her thick blonde pubic hair. She, of course, didn't see my stiff prick, for her huge breasts were in the way, of course, and she didn't lie on a pillow.
"You sonofabitch!" she said. "You couldn't get a hard-on if somebody tied a wimpus to your-oh, my God, what was that? "
"That," I said happily, "is my cock, darling Olivia, lovely High Madame." And, with that, I lunged ahead, hard and fast, the devil in me-with me wanting only to hurt her-and I buried my long big John to her until my scrotum was hidden in her long pubic hair!
"Holy God," she gasped. "My belly's full of prick!"
I cupped her buttocks savagely, spreading her lovely ass wide, my cock sliding down hard, my knob twitching against the far end of her damp vagina before rising until only my bulb caught in her nether lips before sinking down again, deep to my balls.
"You bastard!" she screamed. "I'll kill you! So help me Christ, you're raping me-and there's a law against rape!"
Her long fingernails flashed up, sharp as eagle claws, but I'd been expecting that. I caught her wrists. I penned her arms to her side. She twisted her blonde head, hair disheveled, and tried to bite my arms, but they were too far away. And, besides, I lay my length on her, her huge breasts solid springs under my hairy chest as my hips flashed up and down, my penis dragging against her cunt's walls, filling her box completely.
"Baby," I breathed in her small ear, "you are going to get fucked-and how, my darling little bitch!"
"I'll holler murder, Oliver!"
"And rape, too," I said, "because you ll not be dead and you ll be raped, but what can you do about being raped, you sweet hunk of cunt?"
"What'd you mean, you sonofabitch?"
I punished her terribly, my balls hammering like bowling balls against her crack. My two forefingers were in her anus, anchoring her solidly.
"Okay, you yammer rape, little girl. Naturally, the bulls will take me to the clink. There ll be a trial, for I'll plead not guilty. And at that trial I'll tell how you tried to test me for cunt-and you run a house of studs-"
"Oliver, for Christ's sake-stop, please!"
I braced myself on my extended forearms. I'd forgotten and released her arms, but they just lay idle. I looked down her lovely length. Her eyes were closed, nostrils flaring, mouth a small red line. I looked at her high breasts, white and peaked, nipples dark, and the nipples looked hard to me-the bony nipples of a woman being thoroughly fucked, and enjoying every stroke.
I saw her flat, heaving belly, the belly-button rising and falling. Then, her pubic hair began, a blonde forest, and, penetrating that forest, was my big long round rod, coming out of my knob, hesitating, then jamming in until my balls again hammered her lovely ass-hole.
A great change had come over me. No longer was I a sniveling, soft-pricked beaten ex-stud. I was a king, on top of the world, and my throne was the body that lay under me, feminine and curvaceous and receiving. And then, to my surprise, a great thing happened.
Her lovely arms rose. They encircled my naked, sweating, plunging body. They pulled me softly down on those huge, hard-nippled breasts. The hands cupped my head. They centered my head over hers.
Her blue eyes parted dreamily. Her hands pulled my mouth down to hers. She kissed me and I kissed her and sparks flew like from under a welder's torch. And then, I became aware of something else, too.
Something surprising ... and damned pleasant.
For her full hips were rising and falling under me, her cunt opening and closing womanly around my damp, hot cock. She was fucking me!
Wonderment tore my soul. When would man ever, ever understand a woman? Here I had raped her, forced her and, under heat of passion, she'd began fucking me, a man she hated...
And how she could fuck! I'd been fucked by experts before, but never an expert like this High Madame. I to this day envy Mabel's fat husband. He is, I believe, the best fucked man in California, bar none.
Her cunt's outer lips pulled hard, but the inner lips pulled harder. She milked me like the strong, hard hands of a farmer milks a cow. She pulled and tugged, ass rising and falling, and before I knew it, I went off deep in her, my knob storming the opening of her uterus.
Never before had I had such a deep, profound sexual release. My testicles spouted my semen in great, lunging streams, for I'd not had an orgasm for some days, a novelty for me. She pulled harder now, wrenching and twisting, as though she wanted to pull my dong free, swallow it in her vagina.
My hands held her solidly, forefingers still anchored in her anus. Then, finally, the redness slowly passed and I became aware of breathing hard, and of her lying still under me, legs wrapped around my middle.
"Did I-give you a good one, Oliver? "
"God, and how," I breathed.
"Leave your big cock in me a while. The knob is throbbing. I like that, darling. Later on, will you go up my rear gate? "
"With pleasure, darling. You're not angry at me?"
"No, it was all my fault, Oliver." I saw no logic in that, but let it go. Most things females say are not logical to me. I lay until my penis grew very limp and then I took it from her, its length white from her come.
"Stand on your knees, honey," she said, "and I'll lick you clean. My, how big your prick is, even when soft."
She was on hands and knees, approaching me. "You ll come back to the Palace darling?"
My heart jumped. I looked at her blue eyes, her lovely back, her crack at the far end, and I realized I could have this in bed whenever I wanted, back at the Palace. And I jokingly said, "Just don't send me eight suck cases in eight hours. No man can go off eight times in eight hours."
"They did that-to you? "
"Didn't you know?"
"No, I didn't. I have a house rule. Only two suck cases a shift, and the first the first client the second the fifth-so a stud can rest up. You will come back won't you?"
I saw those good four hundred buck a day days, which made for only twenty four hundred bucks a week.
"Certainly I'll come back," I chortled, and then closed my eyes, for her red sweet mouth was enveloping my penis.
Her lips were strong, her mouth hot and damp-and my cock, even limp, filled her mouth completely and, when hard, would extend her lips savagely, I felt sure. Yes, I, Oliver Torcido, had come back!
She'd suck me a while and I'd get a hard-on and we'd go six and nine. I licked my lips, already tasting her cunt and its white sweet come.
Her mouth now had almost all my penis, her tongue rolling it. Sweet happiness swarmed over me. And then, all of a sudden, the whole thing changed-and not for my betterment, either!
For, without warning, she fastened her white, shiny, sharp teeth down hard, very hard, on my poor cock!
I was caught completely off-guard. One moment I dreamed of studding days-and huge sums of easily-earned money-and the next, excruciating pain tore at my cock and balls, for she bit hard and without mercy.
Frankly, I don't remember all the details. I remember grabbing for her bare ass, for I intended to grab her by the ass-hole and tear her free from my prick, and she must have released my prick finally, for I dimly remember being on my feet with her dancing in front of me, taunting me.
"You sonofabitch!" she screamed. "You forced me and thought you had me, but if you're a damned liar I'm a bigger one."
I grabbed for her. I forgot I wasn't supposed to grab for her. And then, I was flying through the air, once again. And again, I landed kerplunk on the floor, flat on my back-and again my goddamned sacroiliac popped so loudly you could hear it as my ass slammed the hardwood floor.
I tried to get up. The pain in my penis was nothing compared to the pain in my spine. I groveled in pain, hand clutching my back. I remember little of what happened next, but I do remember the long string of brown coming out of her anus, and her anus was directly over my mouth.
Her thumbs gouged my cheeks. I tried to move my head but her feet imprisoned it making movement impossible. I watched that long brown thing come down. Her thumbs forced my mouth open. Slowly, carefully, the brown cylinder entered my mouth, folded into sections, and my mouth couldn't hold all, for when she stood at the door brown covered my face and chest.
She looked chic and sweet, halter in place, breasts pushing out, her thighs and ass covered by her shorts, which I guess she pinned together. She blew me a kiss.
"If you come around the Palace, I'll have you hammered to death, and don't think it can't be done, your body never being found."
I didn't doubt her.
She reached under the bed. She found the key. She put it in the lock and turned it, the lock making a sharp click.
"If you ever see me on the street, never accost me. If you do, I'll have an assassin murder you. That clear?"
I nodded, gulping. I swallowed some more brown, too. It didn't taste like strawberry ice-cream.
"And if you mention this to the law, my influence with certain people will be brought to force and you ll draw years in the pen, buster. You believe that?" Again, I dumbly, silently nodded.
She smiled sweetly. "Good-by for the last time, Oliver." Then she was gone.
Somehow, I got to the phone. Minnie, Gertie and Doc drove out to save me, the girls bringing their chiropractor along. The bone-bender got me on the bed and adjusted my spine while the girls washed the brown off my face.
I was very embarrassed, and sick too. I puked up brown. The girls stood and said, "That dirty bitch," and "Oliver, we both love you,"and Minnie said, "That goddamned Doc!"
Twenty minutes later we were in my apartment, my back in working condition again, the three of them examining where the High Madame had bit my penis.
"Get some iodine on it," Minnie said.
The iodine burned. The cut wasn't long. She'd mangled flesh more than she'd cut skin.
All of us were nude, now. Doc stood watching, his little penis peeping from his pubic hair. Minnie's huge breasts swung when she moved, her pubic hair heavy and dense.
Lovely little Gertie stood to one side, looking at my penis. "We should bandage it," she said.
"Oh, no you don't," I hurriedly said.
"Why not?" Gertie said.
"A man can't screw with his prick bandaged," I said, "and I'm going to pick up where I left off, and I left off trying to get a soft one into Minnie, if memory is right"
"Your memory's right," Minnie said hurriedly. "You can erect now, Oliver? Really? "
"What'd you think I had in the High Madame? Drop to your knees and try it for size in your mouth, woman."
Minnie went to her knees before me and gingerly took my penis in her mouth, her tongue beginning to massage, her lips rolling it.
Gertie and Doc watched us, Gertie's hand on Doc's penis. Minnie began making slopping noises. I closed my eyes. The supreme test was at hand. Would I? Or wouldn't I?
I felt a tingling in my testicles, and elation filled me as my penis began to stand up, pushing further back into Minnie's hot mouth.
Doc said, "He's getting an erection!"
"He sure is," Gertie said happily. "Minnie can't take all his cock, now! It's just too long for her mouth."
She was right Minnie was going less further up my cock each stroke as my prick expanded lengthwise and in thickness. Now her mouth was so full her cheeks were pushed way out
I tell you, it was a great feeling-the best good feeling I'd had for a long time, for once again I was a man-all man, all cock, the old Oliver Torcido, cocksman deluxe...
Gertie said, "God, it's good to be together again, the four of us-all complete. Oliver, Minnie and I have talked it over. Well raise money somewhere-put you up in a house-"
My heart sang. Minnie's mouth sang back and forth on my penis. Unable to control her passions, Gertie fell to her knees and Doc's tiny penis disappeared in her hungry mouth.
Gertie sank on her back and she and Doc went into the six and nine, and Minnie led me to the bed, leading me by my penis which was still in her warm, grasping mouth.
We got on the bed, and I gently pushed her head from me, my penis coming from her mouth in slow sections-long and damp and big and bone-hard, at long last.
"Yes, Oliver, well somehow establish you in a house," Minnie said, going over on her back.
Her legs went up. I took her ankles and spread her legs wide apart. I saw her anus, brown and shiny, and above it her cunt, sweet and oozing, and I wondered, briefly, which I'd take, but I settled on her female opening. The other could come later.
She caught her ankles and thus freed my hands. I put both hands on my penis, steering it toward her cunt, and then I realized I didn't need any hands so I dropped them. My penis stood out, rigid and long, throbbing and with big, hungry knob bouncing as it felt her pubic hair, then settled on her cunt.
Minnie raised her head so she could look over her breasts. Her eyes feasted on my penis. "My God," she said, "what a lovely sight ... "
My knob nuzzled through her hair, felt the lips of her cunt, and the lips twitched, anxious to receive me. My knob went into her and she shuddered in bliss, and I hesitated, there on both knees, prick just entering her house of pleasure, teasing her a little.
For one long second, we poised like that, Minnie and I. and all that was heard were the sounds of Doc sucking and tonguing Gertie and Gertie's mouth slopping around Doc's penis.
Then came Minnie's pleading voice. "Don't tease me, darling. Sock it to me, to your balls-"
I lunged ahead, my penis sliding deep into her hot, creamed vagina. Minnie's lips caught my penis, tore at it. Her legs came down, and she anchored her heels, meeting each downward lunge with an upward drive.
"To your great big round balls, Oliver!" she gasped.
