The second Chuck walked into the room he wanted to bolt and run. But he didn't. He had been unemployed ever since he graduated from high school three months ago. There weren't any legitimate jobs for seventeen-year-old kids. This place was his last hope. And the advertisement did say "good pay." And yet, he couldn't throw off his sense of uneasiness. The ad didn't describe the sort of work. It was just listed under "general help." But what kind of a perverted place was this office? Chuck kept asking himself as he looked around at the lewd and obscene photographs and drawings that plastered the walls. The person who was going to interview Chuck for the job wouldn't be along for a few minutes. This gave the boy an opportunity to examine the huge blow-ups that adorned the wall.
In one of the more startling photographs, a huge colored man was embracing a white, blonde-haired girl. They were both in the nude. The Negro had a monstrous erection which jutted out from between his legs and burrowed into the pubic hair of the girl. One black hand was firmly lodged on a white ass cheek, and one black finger was dug deeply into the girl's rectum. She seemed to be enjoying this sort of attention. Her big, white titties crushed up against his black chest. One of her slender, shapely hands gripped the purplish black prick. Her other hand was busy caressing one of the curved cheeks of the black man's ass.
Despite himself, Chuck felt his own penis stir, and charge stiffly upward. At seventeen, the blonde, handsome and muscular youth was still a virgin. He had been raised in a strict home by his dad and stepmother. Working full time while attending high school had left few energies to channel into sexual thoughts. But after the death of his father, a paper route didn't bring in enough money. And no one seemed to want to hire a high school graduate without much experience.
The bulge in Chuck's pants embarrassed him. Suppose the person who was going to interview him came into the office? He averted his eyes from the offending photo of the nude interracial couple. But the rest of the art work was just as bad.
In another photo, greatly enlarged, a couple were performing the most perverted act that Chuck had ever seen. And not only was the act abnormal but there was an abnormal sort of difference in the age of the naked couple. The male partner couldn't have been more than thirteen years old. But his cock bone was every bit as expanded as the aroused prick on an adult male. The naked boy was seated on a couch. Alongside of him was a naked woman. The woman was at least sixty-five years old. She had gray hair, flabby tits, and a skinny, shapeless body. Her face was lodged between the legs of the boy. And she was happily sucking on the boy's hard, bony prick. She wasn't a bit bashful about her activities. She was looking directly at the camera with an ecstatic, dreamy smile on her old wrinkled face. The boy's mouth was open as though he was urging her on.
Perverted and degrading, thought Chuck. Yet, inwardly and very deep in his thoughts, he was compelled to honestly admit there was an excitement about such people performing such acts. What's happening to me? Chuck asked himself. I'd better get out of this cesspool of an office. But as he turned to leave, another rather striking photo caught hold of his eyes and held them.
Chuck's eyes widened as he looked up at the images of a young, naked girl who couldn't have been more than twelve years old. Hairs were just beginning to sprout around her cuntal slit which looked mature and used despite her age. The girl was seated on a chair with her legs spread wide apart. On his knees, a man had wedged his face between those legs. The man was elderly, at least in his seventies. He, too, was naked and there wasn't a thing attractive about his wiry, skeleton of a body. But it was possible to see the prick on the old man which was in an excited state of erection. It appeared that he was masturbating his bone. And as he jacked himself off, his long, educated tongue was lapping the girl's cunt. That tongue had rocketed the girl into an ecstatic orbit of her own. All of this was evident by her full, beautific smile; her round, hard and glassy eyes; the contortion of the lower part of her anatomy as though she was gyrating as the old man sucked her pussy.
Chuck's own cock was now tormenting him to such an extent that he considered unzipping his fly and performing a quick jack off into his handkerchief. But his common sense soon took charge of him again and he discarded the wild but lustful and relieving idea. He had always wondered, in his more secretive and guarded moments, about the sensations that could be aroused in him by pressing his lips against a female cunt. He had heard some of the boys at school singing the praises of eating pussy. But this was the first time he had seen a couple in the act.
But why was everything so perverted in these photos? Why a black man and blonde girl? A yound kid and an old bag? And a twelve-year-old girl with a seventy-year-old man? Everything was abnormally topsy-turvey about this place. Chuck's common sense that was always so strong within him, now urged him to turn the knob on the door and run out without even so much as a backward glance. But as he reached for the knob, a door on the other side of the room swung open. A voice said, "Sit down kid. We'll get this interview over with as quickly as possible."
The owner of the voice was a woman; a tall, shapely, middle-aged woman. Her hair was dyed a corny yellow and although her face was still handsome, her eyes were hard and unflinching as though her opinion of the human animal was a very low one. And there wasn't a doubt that she included herself in that low opinion of the human race.
There was still time for Chuck to dash the hell out of the place because that inner sense of self survival loudly told him that he was headed for nothing but trouble if he remained. But Chuck did remain. He had been raised to respect women. All women. And the one who now confronted him was very much a woman. Besides, he was desperate for a job. His stepmother was still in a state of shock after the death of Chuck's father. She was in no condition to seek employment. It was up to Chuck. And so, he turned and faced the woman with the dyed, blonde hair.
"Sit down kid," the woman said waving to the comfortable looking couch across from her desk. Unlike her face, the woman's voice was warm and friendly, and even kindly, Chuck thought. And he was relieved at the opportunity to sit down. The protrusion between his legs was still very much in evidence. But if the woman saw the excitation of his cock, she made no mention of it. Her eyes did lower for a moment over his crotch and her tongue flickered over her full, shapely lips. But she sounded and looked all business.
Chuck managed to stammer. "I read your ad for a general helper."
The woman nodded. "I'm looking for a general helper between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. Must be in perfect health. And," she added with emphasis, "must be able to follow orders. All kinds of orders." She gave Chuck a warm, motherly smile. "You look like you're in perfect health. Can you follow orders? Even if they're on the unusual side?"
"Yes ma'am," Chuck replied. His penis was beginning to soften now. She seemed sincere enough. And he was almost ready to dismiss the photos on the wall as a form of way-out art that a lot of places were going in for. He had to remind himself that he had been raised in an unusually strict home. People, in general, he told himself now, were more liberal about their sexual attitudes. It was no longer a forbidden subject. And some offices probably emphasized their liberality with extreme samples of modern art.
The woman's eyes appraised Chuck, ll and he began to feel uncomfortable again. They ravaged his frame as though he was naked. But when they finished their careful evaluation of his youthful and virile looking body, they appeared to be satisfied.
The woman nodded. "I believe you'll do just fine," she said as though coming to a carefully thought out decision. "The job starts at a hundred a week. Goes up even more as you become more skilled at your duties."
Chuck swallowed. "A hundred a week," he echoed as though he had to convince himself that he had heard her, correctly. There wasn't another kid in his graduating class who stepped into such a high paying job with a promise of even more to follow if he proved himself. And he had almost run out on such an opportunity!
The blonde looked pleased at Chuck's reaction. "Of course, that's just a start. You can do much better and in a very short period of time. Depends entirely on you," she added and it sounded like a warning.
"But what do I have to do?" Chuck asked. "I mean, general helper could mean just about anything."
The woman chuckled, throatily. "Wondering what kind of business I'm in?"
"Yes," Chuck replied.
She waved a hand around the room. "And those pussy busting photos have really got your curiosity aroused."
Chuck blushed crimson. He had hoped she wouldn't mention them. But he tried to be blase about it. "Oh, they don't bother me. I've seen all kinds of modern art exhibits."
The woman threw back her head and laughed. Her huge pair of tits shook as the mirth took charge of her. Then, she wiped at her eyes. "They're not exactly exhibits." She became serious again. "Okay kid, I'm going to give it to you straight. My professional name is Madame Amour. I supply partners for the many swap clubs that are now in operation in this city."
"Partners for swap clubs?" Chuck echoed, with wide-eyed disbelief and bewilderment.
"That's right," Madame Amour replied. "A lot of people want to join in a swap club party. But they don't have a partner to swap. I supply them with one." She stood up and tapped a few of the photos on the wall. "Most of my customers want an unusual kind of partner. Know what I mean?" she asked Chuck.
"Not really," Chuck replied but a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that he probably did understand.
"Okay kid," Madame Amour said. "I'll draw a picture for you. An old lady wants to get fucked by a young boy. For a fee, I supply her with the stud. Then, she takes him to a swap club, and swaps him around for other unusual kind of partners. She'll make out okay because a young stud is in demand at a swap club meeting."
The blonde woman elaborated, and it was clear that she felt warm and loving about the kind of services she rendered with her type of agency. "An old man has always wanted to eat a young girl's pussy. Thinks it'll restore his vigor. For a fee, I supply him with that young girl. Then, he takes her to a swap club where he's certain of getting equally good partners in exchange for a young and hot-cunted girl. And of course, I supply blonde girls for Negro men, and vice versa."
Chuck leaped to his feet although his knees were shaking and there was an excellent chance he wouldn't make it to the door without heaving. "Filth," he managed to utter. "The most degrading thing I've ever heard of." He pointed to himself with a sense of outrage. "You expect me to have sexual relations with elderly women old enough to be my mother, or even grandmother? And for money?" He shook his head. "I'm not a male whore Madame Amour, or whatever your real name is. I don't sell myself for money!"
"We all sell ourselves in the market place, kid," the woman said in a voice that grew soft for the first time. "What difference does it make what we do as long as we don't hurt anyone?" She added with a smile. "A young, virile kid like you will even make those old women happy."
"Go to hell!" Chuck blurted, and reached for the knob on the door.
"A hundred a week," the woman said without raising her voice. "And tips. The old women are big tippers if you please them."
Chuck's hand froze on the knob. For what seemed a very long while, he looked down at his hands as though they were paralyzed. Why don't they open the door to let me leave? he asked himself. But he knew he couldn't leave. He and his stepmother were destitute. A hundred a week could make the difference between living and existing. Slowly, shamefacedly, he turned around. But he kept his eyes averted from the patient and understanding Madame Amour.
Chuck spoke as though he was in a trance. "I'd be doing something I was always taught was wrong." He could almost see the stern, prophet-like face of his father as he spoke against the evil of the flesh. Sex had never been mentioned in his house, and sometimes, in an unguarded moment, Chuck had wondered if there was ever any physical contact between his father and his young stepmother.
And now, Madame Amour nodded approvingly at the seventeen-year-old boy who was so obviously torn between conflicting emotions; between the moral precepts of his upbringing and the need for survival. "The old women will go for your innocence," she mused more to herself than to Chuck. "They like to see an embarrassed blush. Gives them the notion, they're seducing you and leading you down the primrose path. Still." she added thoughtfully, "they want someone who knows a little about pleasing the whims of their cunts." She snapped her fingers to rouse Chuck from his inner, tormenting thoughts. "How much experience have you got with pussy?"
Chuck felt his face grow hot again. "I'm still a virgin," he said and for the first time felt ashamed about it. His father had always praised the virtues of self-discipline; of turning the face away from lustful temptations.
"Jezzis," gushed the woman and now it was her turn to display a look of surprise. "A virgin at seventeen? I'll bet you've jacked that poor cock of yours down to a sliver."
Chuck was beginning to get used to the woman's blunt, frank language. It was part of her nature, he decided. At least, she was honest and expressed herself as she felt. Despite her profession, and the vulgarity of her language, he was beginning to like her. She was completely devoid of pretensions. And yet, his father would have violently hated such a person. He would have immediately condemned her profession as immoral, and branded the woman as a female pimp. But was she? Chuck wondered. Wasn't she performing a service that people apparently wanted and were willing to pay for?
Chuck replied. "I suppose sexual relations is a natural sort of thing. I don't think I'm going to need any lessons."
"Bullshit," Madame Amour replied but good humoredly. "That's the common, American fallacy. No one needs any lessons in fucking. And so, a couple of virgins get married. The result is quite often a disaster."
"Do I get the job, or not?" Chuck asked. His voice was firm now and he felt a lot more self-confidence about the entire project. He didn't want the job but he needed it. And this Madame Amour needed him, he deduced. There weren't too many seventeen-year-old boys around who would fuck sixty and seventy-year-old women; not even for money. But they weren't as hard up as Chuck for money.
"Calm down, junior," the Madam waved a hand at Chuck to be seated again. "The job is yours and you know it. The idea of hiring a virgin appeals to me. I get too many of those goddamn pros who know too much about cunt. They're not the kind the old women want to pay for. They like them young, sweet and innocent. Still," she added again, "not too innocent. You've got to know how to service their needs."
"A fuck is a fuck," Chuck said slipping easily into the language of his employer.
"No, it is most definitely not!" the woman retorted. "Another American fallacy. You stick it in and pull it out. Horse-shit. There's a lot more to it than that sonny boy. A helluva lot more."
Chuck glanced uneasily up at the photos. His eyes lingered especially over the one showing the old man eating the young girl's cunt. "You mean?" he asked and was somehow unable to complete the question.
"Exactly," the woman who called herself Madame Amour replied. "The secret desire of almost any old woman is to be eaten by a young boy. They come here to play out their fantasies. You'll be expected to give them a tongue job. Make no mistake about that."
Chuck grimaced as though he was going to throw up. "That's where they piss," he protested. "I just don't think I'm cut out for this job. As much as I need the money, I'd better forget it."
"Nonsense!" the woman exclaimed. "You're beaten before you start. With that kind of backbone, you're not going to get very far in this life."
"The thought of eating an old woman's cunt revolts me," Chuck said, emphatically. Still, he made no move to leave the office. Somehow, he was waiting for the woman to convince him that he was wrong, his attitude was wrong.
The woman sensed his need for reassurance. "Okay sonny boy, you can practice with me. And before I get through with you, you'll wonder how you got this far without tasting cunt before. You've got the makings of a real talented pussy eater. You just need a shove in the right direction."
Chuck looked across the room at his would-be instructor. Physically, she attracted him. There were deep, erotic lines around her kissable lips that strongly suggested the act of fellatio. In fact, her entire body radiated an aura of eroticism; the way her full, shapely breasts spread over the upper portion of her body; the tapering sides of her body until the slant met in a narrow waistline; the flare of hip and fleshy ass, and the strong, shapely, nutcracker legs. She was wearing a tight fitting dress that revealed much cleavage between the tits, and Chuck had to fight down a desire to plunge his entire face between those soft and inviting tits. He began to wonder about the size, shape and general appearance of her cunt. Did it have a lot of hairs? he wondered.
And thinking these thoughts, the meat of his penis stiffened again and rose up to the angle of the fuck. When he stood up, the bulge in his pants suggested the appearance of a circus tent with the pole in the middle.
Madame Amour clapped her hands. "Good. You've got a bone on. You're thinking along the right lines, sonny boy. Come suck mommy's cunt for her. That's a good boy," she said as though she was his mother.
The thought of having such an attractive and yet erotic mother excited Chuck. Damn, he thought to himself. If my father was here, he'd smite me dead. Am I a cesspool of iniquity as father so often described boys who were lustfully attracted to the flesh of a woman?
Madame Amour was unaware and unconcerned about Chuck's mixed emotions. She was busy peeling up her tight-fitting skirt. Beneath the outer garment, a girdle kept the flesh in place. Now, she tugged this restraining influence down to her ankles. Female flesh spilled out and settled back into place. And that place consisted of several shapely curves; the rounded hips, the curvacious ass cheeks, and the slightly curved tummy with its erotically dimpled navel.
When the girdle had, at last, been rolled down to her ankles, Madame Amour straightened, leaned back, flipped a hand over her cunt area. "You like?" she asked with a wink.
Chuck's eyes rolled down onto the woman's pussy parlor and locked into place. His breathing became quite audible and the stricken look on his face forewarned of an impending orgasm. "Beautiful," he breathed. "Your cunt is simply stunning."
The woman's genitals could boast of more pubic hair than adorned Chuck's cock region. In fact, she had more hairs than he had ever seen on any man. And they were beautiful hairs; long, fine as silk, shimmering bright in the light of the room and tantalizingly curled. Chuck was seized with a strange compulsion to snap a bunch of the cunt hairs into his mouth and pull back on them in order to straighten the curl. But he fought back this compulsion, and remained standing in the quiet of the room with only the sound of his strained breathing audible.
"Take out your cock," the woman said, gently. "No sense suffering while you're eating me."
"I don't understand?" Chuck said with his eyes still fixed between the legs of the woman.
She explained. "When you're eating me, you'd better jack off for relief." She permitted herself to chuckle. "Another few spots on my rug won't hurt it any."
Chuck wondered briefly about the other boys or men who had gone down on Madame Amour in her office chair. But he didn't let that bother him. Nothing mattered now but getting some relief. As instructed, he unzipped his fly and let his long, hard and youthful prick emerge into view.
Now, it was the turn of the middle-aged woman to look impressed. "Nice," she whispered as though she was talking to herself. "Couldn't have got a better one if I had ordered it."
Chuck had never given much thought to the appearance of his penis whether it was in an aroused state or not. But now, he had to admit that his stiffened prick was a thing of beauty. The firm shaft that was now bulging with blood choked veins, had turned the color of a vividly washed red sky. The cockhead was a much deeper, richer looking red; almost purple. And the rim of the cockhead had turned an even different shade of red. The eye in the center of the head was distended as though it already wanted to cough out the seminal fluid. His nuts felt especially soft and loose and sensitive to the touch.
"Yummy," Madame Amour enthused. "The old women clients of mine are going to have themselves a ball eating a young prick like that."
The thought of the old, toothless women gnawing on his bone started to turn Chuck off. And so, he immediately changed the subject. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, pointing to Madame Amour's exposed and gaping pussy.
She blinked. "You're supposed to eat, son. Eat my cunt." And spreading her legs even farther apart, waved him between them. "On your knees, junior. Time to eat mommy's cunt."
Chuck tried to restrain his excitement which was mounting by the second. He permitted himself to sound irritated. "Must you keep referring to me as sonny? I feel perverse enough without creating an idea of incest."
"But darling," Madame Amour protested. "Most of my old women clients have this incest hangup. That's why they're hot after the ass of a young boy. It gives them the illusion they're eating or fucking their own sons, or even grandsons."
"Sick," Chuck hissed through clenched teeth. "They're sick."
"Maybe," the woman replied in a harder voice. "Or maybe not. It's not for us to say. Or condemn. It's our job to make them happy. To be more exact, it's your job to make them happy and play along with them. If they want this illusion about incest, you give it to them!" This time there was authority in her voice. It was a tone of voice that would not tolerate any objections.
Chuck sighed. "Okay, okay. I get the message. If I wasn't so desperate for a job, I'd tell you to go fly a kite."
Madame Amour's voice became even harder. "But you're not going to. Are you, sonny boy? You're going to learn how to eat cunt, and play out the role of their son or grandson."
"Yes," Chuck said, thoroughly chastised. "Let's face it, I'll do anything for a hundred dollar a week job."
"That's better, sonny boy," the woman said. "Now, on your knees. I want to feel that nose of yours up my cunt."
Now that the moment of decision had arrived, Chuck struggled to beat back waves of nausea. Looking at an exposed female pussy was one thing. It was even exciting. But to press his face against one, and actually stick his tongue into the opened crack was very definitely, a horse of another color. And now, a strange, musky odor assailed his nostrils, and he clutched at his stomach muscles lest he heave up.
Madame Amour took note of the boy's flour-white face, and the way he kept holding his stomach. She understood the extent of his torment but she was going to force him to go through with the mouth job on her cunt. First, he was a challenge, and she didn't want to lose a boy who could become valuable to her. Secondly, she was irritated with his reaction to the smell of her cunt and the prospect of eating it. This sort of bigoted attitude towards perfectly normal sex acts was something she'd always fought against. The time for kid glove treatment was over.
Madame Amour's voice became a snarl. "I said for you to get the hell down on your knees and start lapping cunt!" Her voice was authoritative, imperial, demanding.
Chuck immediately clumped down on his knees. His father had taught him that he must never argue with a woman. The strong odor of hot cunt splashed over his face and stuffed his nostrils. He took a quick gulp of air and then held his breath.
"Eat!" the woman's voice thundered down to him. "Treat your mom to a re; I good tongue job."
Chuck found himself between the woman's thick but shapely legs. Before him loomed the hairy edifice. The long, curled hairs seemed to waggle their tips at him in an enticing way. The outer lips of the box were sliding farther apart before his startled eyes. And behind them, he detected two more inner lips which were swelling out and turning a deep red color. The soft, meaty walls of the inner cunt did look edible. And then, his dangerously bulging eyes became fixed on a long, blunt object that seemed to rise up and stiffen near the top of the cunt box. The look of surprise on his face turned to one of awe and wonderment. She's got a prick, too, he told himself and found it still difficult to believe in the reality of the sight. And although he was still holding his breath, he could feel the waves of heat that roared out of the hole as though the cuntal innards were a blast furnace.
Impatient with the boy's timid assault on her box, Madame Amour lifted her legs, draped them over Chuck's shoulders and thus pulled his face against her cunt. The hairs, at last, bit into his face. They sparked a tingling sensation that prickled the skin of his entire body and blistered it with goose pimples. His face was pressed partially against the outer vulva and partially against the inner meat of her cunt. The odor, Chuck realized, had to be an extremely strong one. But he was no longer able to hold his breath. And so, he ceased his struggles and gave up by releasing his breath.
The next few moments were critical ones. If the odor still nauseated him, he could heave and spoil any further chance to improve his education. The woman would probably fire him as unfit for such a job. And indeed, waves of nausea did wrack his body and he coughed as though he was going to upchuck. And indeed, the apoplectic-faced boy was compelled to turn his face away as he really believed he was going to heave. But he didn't. The churning stomach subsided, and he was able to turn his face towards the woman's cunt, again.
"Eat me," she shrieked down at him. "Eat my cunt, goddammit!"
Chuck nodded, and slipped his hands under the cheeky ass of the woman in order to draw her closer to his mouth. As he began to breathe normally, he was surprised to realize that his attitude towards the sight, smell and even taste of the cunt was rapidly changing. He no longer felt nauseated. To the contrary, he felt hungry; hungry for the taste of pussy. And there wasn't a thing disagreeable to the odor. He was rather startled to now realize that the smell of cunt excited and delighted him. A fragrance filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply.
"Smells pretty," he breathed aloud. "Cunt smells pretty," and he made this observation as though a great truth had suddenly been revealed to him.
Madame Amour realized the boy was undergoing something of a metamorphosis. He was changing for the better; from a prude to a potential cunt eater of great talent.
"Let yourself go, honey," she said in a soft, encouraging voice. "Let it all hang out."
"Smells so good," Chuck kept repeating himself as he puckered his lips and planted a big, French kiss over the hairy surface of the love nest.
The effect of the virgin boy's red, shapely lips over the opening lips of Madame Amour's cunt produced a startling effect on the woman. She sat bolt upright as though she had been hit with a streak of wild lightning.
"Oo-La-La," she yammered, uncontrollably. "That mouth of yours feels so good on my cunt." The woman had been eaten by hundreds of experts in the act of cunnilingus. But the raw vitality of the youthful virgin, and his ever mounting excitement were worth all the cunt experts in the world. "Go boy. Go!" she urged in a high, shrieking voice.
Chuck had heard the expression "eating cunt," before. Vaguely, he associated such an act of eating with male lips pressed against female pussy. But what else was involved? he kept asking himself. The woman was so impatient to be eaten. And this impatience precluded any opportunity to leisurely explore the female organ and leisurely make plans on the best way to attack it with his mouth. He'd have to act, and act swiftly. And if he failed the test, he'd be shit out of luck, Chuck realized. In a way, his immediate future depended on how well he caught on to the intricacies and mysteries of eating cunt.
Apparently, from the woman's delighted reaction, his first move of merely kissing the surface, had been a correct one. What next? Chuck asked himself. The hairy surfaced, outer lips were continuing to slide farther apart. Beyond these lips, there was another pair of lips, Chuck found. And these inner lips were blood-gorged, swollen and moist. And beyond these lips, was a deep groove.
Chuck made a quick decision. This cuntal channel had to be the hole that normally accepted a man's stiff prick, he decided. What would happen, Chuck asked himself, if I made my tongue stiff, and stuck it down the hole? He was in a perfect position to obtain an immediate reply to this question. And so, he contracted the muscles of his tongue and jabbed the velvety piece of tongue meat as far down the cuntal hole as he could drive it. And as he did, he kept an eye fastened on the woraan's face to assess her reaction.
And so, Chuck pulled his face back away from the cunt, stiffened his tongue, and plunged it down the love box. The woman's body and head snapped back, her eyes swam crazily about in the sockets, her lips ripped apart, and the most bloodcurdling scream that Chuck had ever heard, spiralled out of her mouth. This scream was laced with the most foul obsceneties the straight-laced boy had ever heard.
"Motherfucking, little shit," the woman babbled incoherently. "Suck my cunt! Eat it, bite it, chew it. And spit it back in again. But don't take your tongue away. Don't ever take your tongue out of my cunt!"
This filthy language had an extremely strange effect on Chuck. He had been raised to reject profanity under any circumstance. His father had preached often enough against the sin of blasphemy. But now, under the circumstances of eating cunt, the woman's profanity excited and pleased him. And he continued to use his tongue as though it was a prick. He rammed it in and out of the hole in an ever increasing tempo. He was literally tongue-fucking the woman's cunt. And as he tongue-fucked, he improvised. He'd rotate his tongue as though it was a corkscrew. Or, as the tongue tip was touching bottom, he wriggled it about. And every now and then, he'd suck the soft, oyster-like walls of cunt into his mouth and suck on them with a gusto of a hungry gourmet.
Chuck's face became drenched with cuntal effluents. That didn't matter. Nothing mattered but to continue to eat in this manner for he had never felt so happy, and carefree. A smile wreathed his wet face as he noisily smacked, gulped and munched on the meal of cunt. He was displaying a natural talent as a cunt lapper that few boys his age had. And this ever moving, exploring and talented tongue was driving Madame Amour to the brink of lustful insanity. Her cunt was being tormented, and yet it ached for more and more tongue.
And once, when Chuck withdrew for a moment to catch his breath, his eyes lighted once again on the clitoris, the she-cock that had so impressed him when he first gazed at the exposed pussy. Now, Chuck arrived at another conclusion. If men love to have their prick sucked by a woman, wouldn't a woman want her she-cock eaten by a man? The answer came roaring back to Chuck. Of course! And so, instead of resuming the tongue-fuck, Chuck now opened his lips and caught the tip of her clitoris between them. This brought on a response for which he wasn't prepared for.
The body of the woman jerked up and off the chair. She remained standing in a semi-squat over his mouth in order to give him easier access to her clit. "Eat me," her hoarse, husky voice bawled out. "Keep eating my clit!"
Chuck quickly made a few amazing discoveries about the character of this woman's cock. While it resembled a miniature male penis, it was remarkably different. First, he could pull it out to a much greater length. And this he did. Firmly clamping the clitoral head between his lips, he pulled back in very much the same way as bird yanking out a reluctant worm from the ground. Once Chuck had pulled Madame Amour's cock out to its maximum length, he commenced to give it a special treatment with his tongue. This was where his talent made itself manifest because he had absolutely no experience with eating cunt.
Once the she-cock was stretched to the ultimate, Chuck slid his tongue under the shaft. This area must have been studded with myriad nerve endings, because the woman let out another shout that sounded like a war whoop. Encouraged, Chuck tried slithering his tongue along the remaining sides of the clitter cock. The entire piece of female prick meat was undoubtedly jam packed with sensitized nerve endings because the woman became almost delirious. But Chuck realized the end was near.
Madame Amour seized the boy's face between her two hands, rammed her entire clit into his mouth and proceeded to pump a fuck into his yawning orifice. Of course, as she pump-fucked, Chuck now had enough expertise to continue the use of his tongue. A series of minor orgasms broke out of the woman's body. But she was in no mood to settle for second rate climaxes. She was after the Big One, the Big O, and she'd settle for nothing less.
As Madame Amour pumped, she screamed. And as she screamed, foam-specked spittel flew out the corners of her mouth. And then, something within her broke, or tore loose. All restraints were washed away. Startled by the fury of her movements and cries, Chuck was about to tear his mouth away from the cunt lest the woman had suddenly lost her mind. But before he could make a move, he felt the stream of hot, oily liquid Niagara into his mouth. He remained at his post to suck, swallow and lap every drop of the precious cuntal flow. Finally, the torrent thinned to a stream, and the stream to a few drops. And then, there was nothing.
Madame Amour sank back into her chair. The drenched-faced Chuck stared at her. His penis was still very much in an excited state of erection. The fury of the mouth job had so absorbed his full concentration that he had forgot to masturbate: He still had a hard on that required urgent attention.
The woman stared down at the boy through half-closed eyes. "You'll have to jack it off without my assistance," she said. "I'm exhausted."
Anger thinned Chuck's full lips. He continued to look at the woman in a hard and unsmiling way. Finally, he said, "Piss on that noise."
The woman's eyes flew open. "I beg your pardon," she said. She was certain that she hadn't heard, correctly. This boy simply didn't use profanity. And she was certain he had no backbone. He was the ideal mommy's boy.
Chuck repeated himself. His voice was louder. His enunciation clearer. "Piss on that noise."
The woman struggled to sit upright. She was still in a weakened condition. But she tried to put firmness back into her voice. "No one talks to me like that sonny boy. Aren't you forgetting that you work for me?"
"I'm not working for you yet," Chuck reminded her. "I don't intend to work for a selfish, self-centered cunt."
Chuck's language and boldness surprised even himself. But he was angry. He had been used by the woman who now was refusing to reciprocate. She wanted everything her own way.
Madame Amour looked back at Chuck with appraising eyes. He had more guts than she had at first imagined. And she didn't want to lose his services. He had a natural talent as a pussy eater, and his mouth and natural zest for cunt would bring the agency in a lot of money. But she also had to put him in his place. She wasn't going to be shit upon by some snot-nosed virgin punk.
"What's the beef, sonny?" she snapped.
"You know what it is," Chuck reminded her. "You get eaten. Now, I'm supposed to hand jack myself off. That doesn't ride with me."
"But I'm exhausted, honey," the woman explained. "Your tongue and mouth gave me the best blow of my life. I'm completely shattered. In an hour or so, I'll be okay again. But you'll have to wait."
"Wait?" Chuck echoed, his voice rising angrily. "My cock won't wait. It has to blow."
Under normal circumstances, Chuck would have never addressed a woman in such a brutal tone of voice. And he would have never insisted on having his own way despite the rightness of his request. He had been raised to respect a woman's wishes and to accede to her every whim. And normally, this would have been the way Chuck accepted. But these were not normal circumstances. And fevered with lust, and in the grip of an emotion that he didn't understand at all, the boy was not going to behave as though everything was normal. Never before in his entire life had he eaten a woman's pussy. The taste, smell and feel of that sweet, piece of cuntal meat was still very much with him. His cock had never erected to such a red and hard condition before. Within his testicles, the cock cream was a boil. He simply couldn't ignore it. And every pore in his body demanded a blow off with a much greater intensity than a mere hand job could generate. His cock meat throbbed for the feel of a female cunt box. But, Chuck mused, it was possible to settle for something else under these trying conditions. And that something else was the woman's big, and erotic looking mouth. Yes, he decided, he'd use her mouth as a cunt!
Chuck rose to his feet with his cock jutting stiffly out from between his legs like a battering ram. Madame Amour was still talking, still lecturing him about his place as an employee, and her rights as his employer. But Chuck's ears were now closed to everything but the pounding of his own lust-filled heart. He took a step closer, and while the woman was in the middle of a word, rammed his prick between her lips.
The assault was so unexpected, and caught her by so much surprise that for a moment, she didn't react at all. Then, it struck her. The boy was using her and not vice versa. She was used to manipulating people and calling all the shots. If it wasn't for the fact that her mouth was stuffed with cock, she would have hurled the words, 'Snot-nosed bastard!' But she was incapable of uttering any comprehensible sound at all. And even if she had been able to protest verbally, Chuck wouldn't have paid any attention. He was totally committed and preoccupied with attaining his goal. And that goal was to blow his cock in Madame Amour's mouth.
Madame Amour's immediate impulse was to bite down hard on the offending length of penile shaft. There was nothing like pain to soften the most rigid of cocks. But when she recovered from her bruised ego, she began to evaluate on a less prejudiced basis, the quality of Chuck's joy meat. She had never in her life tasted a penis with such a honeysweet flavor. The bulged cockhead was even sweeter than the shaft which was extremely unusual. But now, she came to realize, she was sucking on a very unusual cock. And instead of trying to spit it out, or bite into the flesh, she opened her mouth wider to accept as much meat as possible.
Chuck wasn't aware of her changed attitude, and didn't care. All that mattered was relief. And that relief could only be accomplished by hammering his long, turgid bone in and out of the fifty-year-old woman's mouth. Saliva gushed out of Madame Amour's mouth as she continued to suck on the shaft and lash the head with her tongue. Finally, Chuck's entire frame trembled, his neck swivelled around as though it was broken, and words shattered out of his mouth as though he was in great distress.
"Gotta blow," he said in a harsh whisper. "Gotta blow out a storm."
And that's exactly what happened. A storm of cock-cum burst through the head of his cock and into the woman's hungry mouth. Her lips and throat kept working more frantically than a thirsty baby with a nippled milk bottle. The boy's seminal fluid was sweet as honey, and she couldn't get enough of it.
Madame Amour's mouth milked Chuck's prick dry. And she continued to suck after the last drop had been swallowed. The penis was beginning to feel numb. Chuck extracted the meat, with difficulty, from her mouth. "That's the best blow off I've ever had in my whole life," he said and his face glistened with happiness.
The woman continued to stare at Chuck's shrivelling penis with a mixture of deep love, respect and unabashed awe. "Never tasted anything that good in my whole life," she said in a low, incredulous voice. Then, looking up at Chuck, she added. "That sticker of yours is going to make us both a fortune. You've got talent. And that's what counts in this business. Youth and talent."
But now that chuck had relieved himself of the terrible cock pressures, his normal attitudes and values returned with an even greater force. He felt secretly ashamed of himself. And that last act of forcing his cock into the mouth of a woman was most uncharacteristic of him. This entire, filthy business could change him into a person that could be utterly distasteful to both himself and his stepmother. But he'd have to tell mom the truth about his new job. He had never kept anything from her in his life.
"When do you want me to start?" Chuck asked hoping she'd give him a few days to adjust his reeling sense of values.
"Tonight," Madame Amour retorted as she began to dial. "No sense wasting time when there's money to be made."
"Money to be made," Chuck repeated bitterly. "From a swap club stud."
But Madame Amour didn't hear him. She was too busy dialing numbers of potential clients whom she felt would want to sample her new boy. She looked up from the telephone for an instant. "D'you mind leaving?" she asked Chuck. "I want to build you up. And I don't want you to get any swelled head on me. So amscray outa here. And report for duty about nine this evening."
Chuck was about to say something but changed his mind. It was too late now to back out of a situation that could warp him for the rest of his life. It was with a terrible sense of foreboding that chuck returned to his home where he'd have to tell his stepmom-about a job he'd accepted as a swap club stud.
CHAPTER TWO
"Swap Club stud?" Emma Cole repeated the words with a look of total incomprehension on her still, beautiful face. Chuck's stepmother was in her early forties and had been about twenty years younger than her late husband. She was possessed of a natural, pure sort of beauty that required no makeup, no artifice. She was tall and shapely and Chuck had often wondered why she had married his father. But there wasn't any doubt that his mom had loved dad very deeply. Months after his father's death, mom was still in mourning. Now, she was still wearing a black dress. The fact that the dress clung to her ample curves and revealed a good deal of milky white cleavage at the bosom meant nothing. Everything she wore, even mourning black, made the woman glow with her natural beauty.
Chuck averted his eyes. He knew how straight-laced father and mom had always been about anything even remotely suggestive of sex. If it was possible he wouldn't have brought up the subject at all. But dad had always taught him to price honesty above all virtues. And Chuck was trying to be honest; honest with himself, and honest with his stepmother.
Emma said, "But I simply don't understand, dear. What on earth is a swap club stud? It doesn't sound nice at all."
"It isn't nice, mom," Chuck said and hoped that in some way the floor would open up and swallow him. He was at a complete loss to explain the nature of his duties that were to start at nine that evening. He stammered on, "I'm supposed to be an escort for old women who like to have a young boy around."
Emma looked back at her stepson. "But that isn't so terrible, dear. They want someone nice and refined like you to talk to and visit with. What's so terrible about that?"
"They expect me to be more than just an escort," Chuck tried to explain, and his eyes moistened with frustration. There just wasn't any easy way to explain the nature of his job. Again, he'd have to call on his inherent honesty, and hope and pray that mom would understand.
But still, he tried one more evasive tactic in the hope he could rationalize his decision. "I was all over town mom. No one else would give me a job. And we're just about broke. Dad didn't leave us a dime."
Emma said quietly, "What are you trying to tell me, son?"
Chuck wrung his hands nervously together and looked up at the ceiling. He looked anywhere but into the eyes of his mom. "I'm trying to say," he forced out the words, "that the old women who rent my services expect me to have intimate relations with them."
Emma's eyes widened. "You mean," she asked, "they expect you to fuck them?"
This question, posed with such candor, stunned Chuck. He looked back wide-eyed. He had never before heard his mom use such a word as 'fuck,' and he couldn't get over it. Her cupid bow lips were so pure and adorable looking that he simply couldn't believe that one profane word could pass through them.
"Yes, or no?" Emma pressed, and there was a hint of impatience in her voice.
"Yes," Chuck replied with a release of breath.
Emma nodded. "That's understandable. You'll make them happy." Her voice grew hard, business-like. "How much is the old gal, Madame Amour going to pay you?"
"A hundred a week," Chuck said in a slow, unbelieving way. This woman couldn't be his stepmother. He was almost certain she'd blow her top. Instead, she not only seemed to be approving but to be calculating about it.
Emma snorted. "So much chicken shit. I'll have a little chat with the old bag. You're worth more than that."
The speech and manner of his stepmother stunned Chuck to such an extent that for a very long while, he remained speechless. And when, at last, he did try to say something, the words came out all jumbled and didn't make any sense at all.
Emma said, "I'm afraid I've shocked you."
"Yes," Chuck managed to reply. "I mean I've never heard you say vulgar words before."
Emma lit a cigarette and let the smoke trickle out of her nostrils in a fine, thin stream. "You don't really know me," she said. "And you never really knew your father."
Chuck protested. "I knew him all my life. A good man. A stern one but filled with a sense of righteousness."
Emma grimaced. "What he was filled with dear was shit. Pure, unadulerated shit. In brief, he was a hypocrite of the first order."
Chuck tried to grab hold of his reeling senses, and make some sort of order out of them. Then, the truth struck him. Or, so he thought. "You're not well, mom. The strain of dad's passing has unsettled you."
Emma crushed out her cigarette with a vehemence as though she had arrived at a decision; a decision that had long been overdue. "I'm going to tell you the truth about your daddy," she told Chuck. "And I'm going to tell you the truth about myself. Now, that you're old enough to make a living, you've got to know. It'll help you. It'll help you find yourself."
"I already know who I am," Chuck said and tried to restrain his rising anger. He kept telling himself that his step mom was sick and didn't really know what she was talking about.
Emma looked straight at the boy. "Know where your father met me?" she asked.
Chuck shook his head. His father had always been hesitant about discussing his courtship of Emma.
"In a whorehouse," Emma said, bluntly. "I was down on my luck, and I went to work in the house that was not a home. Just for a few weeks until I got back on my feet again. Then, one night, your father walked into the place, and I had to service him."
Chuck thought he was going to heave. "My father frequented a brothel? And you used to be a...."
"Whore," Emma replied with relish. "I loved to fuck. I figured I may as well get paid for it."
"I don't feel so good," Chuck gasped.
"Take an aspirin. There's more to come," Emma replied. "You should have been told a long time ago."
"My father was always so opposed to promiscuity, to sex for the sake of lust," Chuck said as he remembered the many anti-sex lectures given to him by his father.
Emma chuckled. "He did sound convincing. But he loved the blow off I gave him so much, he offered to marry me." She shrugged. "He wasn't exactly my type but what the hell, it was a roof over my head, and he didn't want more than one fuck a week."
Chuck kept shaking his head. "I don't understand," he said in a lost voice. "Why was he always lecturing me against the evils of sex?"
Emma ran a hand suggestively over her genital area. "He was always afraid I'd give some of this sugar to you. He could only get it up once a week. In between, he was terrified, I'd let you fuck me."
Chuck blurted, "The thought never entered my head." He didn't sound very convincing because the thought had entered his head and on more than one occasion. Several times, quite by accident, he had caught a glimpse of Emma in the nude, or in the bath tub, and had physically reacted. After such a sight, he had been compelled to masturbate while fantasizing a fuck with Emma.
Emma smiled at the flustered boy who was her stepson. "I can't say the thought never entered my head," she confessed. "Your daddy was a lousy fuck. I paid a big price for the crummy security he gave me. And he watched me like a jailer. Never had a chance to step out on him and get laid every now and then like other married women. Sure, I gave the thought of fucking you a lot of my time. And don't think I haven't jacked off while dreaming of your prick inside of me."
This frank and rather lewd discussion began to have an effect on Chuck. A warm and sensuous feeling in the pit of his genitals began to spread through his entire body. And this feeling became strong enough to surge through his penis and stiffen the meat. Sensing that his cock was erecting, Chuck bent over a bit to conceal the tell-tale bulge in his crotch.
Emma stood up. Standing in front of a mirror, she appraised herself, critically. "I'm still fairly young. Some men might even say I'm desirable. I'd make someone a good wife."
Chuck grabbed hold of the arms on his chair as though his special world was rapidly crumbling. "Are you going to leave?" he asked in a small voice.
Emma sensed his concern and was openly touched. "Of course not, darling. At least, I'm not going to leave until you've got your feet on the ground and know what you want to do." And to emphasize her appreciation for his concern, she sat down on his lap and draped her arms around the boy's neck. "Mommy won't leave her little boy. Not for a while."
Chuck felt the soft flesh of his stepmother's ass. And this sort of sensation sent urgent messages to the shaft and head of his cock. Consequently, the prick meat began to throb violently, and for a few seconds, Chuck was in a very great danger of an ejaculation.
"Don't you feel well?" Emma asked looking into the perturbed face of the boy as he fought to restrain the blow off.
"I'm okay now," Chuck said at last after he felt the cum-cream lose pressure and subside.
Emma reached under the curve of one of her ass cheeks and dropped the hand on top of Chuck's crotch bulge. "Jeezis," she exclaimed, "you've got yourself a hard on!"
Chuck blushed violently. "Just an automatic reflex. Doesn't mean a thing." And struggling to change the subject as quickly as possible asked, "Do you think it's okay if I take the swap club job?"
"Not for a hundred a week," Emma said. "You're worth more than that. I'll have a chat with the old madam and clear that up. But as far as working as a stud, I think it's great. You need experience to get along in this world. Any kind of experience. And sex experience is the very best you can get. Once you master all of the sex techniques, you'll never have to worry about making a living. And you won't have to work your ass off like some goddamn peasant."
Chuck said slowly, "I suppose, in a way, I kind of agree with you. Living the dull, pure and righteous life doesn't really prepare you to do anything."
"Except pick shit with the chickens," Emma said. "And that you don't want to do."
"No," Chuck agreed, emphatically. "But I'm so green when it comes to sex. I just don't know if I'm going to cut the mustard."
"You're going to do just fine, baby," Emma said in a soft voice. She snuggled closer to her stepson. "If there's anything you don't understand about sex, you just ask your mommy. I think I qualify as an expert on the subject."
"That's just the point," Chuck said. "I really don't know anything about sex. I'm still a virgin."
Emma looked closely into her stepson's face. "Are you telling the truth?" she asked, incredulously.
"Madame Amour sucked me off," Chuck said. "But I still consider myself a virgin."
Emma's hand dropped down on top of Chuck's cock again. "Oh baby," she cooed, "you should have rammed this into a cunt a long time ago. It's so stiff, and so long. Think of all the girls you could have made happy."
"Dad was so against sex. He watched me like a hawk. Besides, it was against everything he ever taught me," Chuck said.
Emma unzipped the fly on her stepson's trousers. Slowly, she pulled out the youthfully hard tool of cock flesh. And as her slim, soft fingers danced up and down the penile shaft, she said, "Darling, for the sake of your job, I'm willing to give you a few lessons. But please don't take this sort of attention as anything personal."
"Oh mom," Chuck exclaimed. "Would you? I'd be so grateful. And of course, I won't take your kindness to me as personal. I know you don't love me that way. But I'm so damned green about...."
"Pussy," Emma supplied. "Your daddy was too. Oh, he thought he was another Casanova. But he didn't know from shit. I don't want you to be ignorant like him."
"I don't want to be like him," Chuck said with finality. "In no way do I want to be like him. Inwardly, I've always loved the thought of fucking and getting fucked. But he made me think of it as something dirty and evil. Now, I know his reasons were purely selfish."
Emma gave her son a squeeze. "My little boy is growing up. Good for you. Now, it's time for class to commence."
The woman stood up, and although they were in the living room, started to undress. "This is as good a place as any," she said. "Bet I can undress faster than you can."
"You're on," Chuck replied and started to tear off his clothes.
The race to undress ended in a dead heat, as woman and boy turned to face each other. They were completely nude but Chuck didn't feel in the least self-conscious. His bone had zoomed up at the angle of the fuck, and for the first time in his life, he felt very proud of the size of his cock and its vivid colorations.
And if Emma wasn't his stepmother, he would have whistled and made some kind of racy remark. She was built like the traditional brick shit house. No wonder his father had wanted to fuck her. No normal man possessed of his faculties and good health would turn down what she had to offer. And what she had to offer was abundant and obvious.
Freed of restraints, Emma's tits had lunged out until the nipples almost touched Chuck's chest. They were cream colored and resembled twin hills of soft, edible looking flesh. The tips were splotched with red nipple flesh whose moist pores literally were begging to be sucked. The flat tummy tapered into a narrow waist. And from that waist, rounded, fleshy hips rolled out to fuse into thick shapely thighs. The curvacious cheeks of ass were firm and yet resilient. They cried out to be pinched, to be kneaded, pulled, bitten and tongued. And Emma's cunt was a work of art. The long, wispy hairs seemed to undulate tantalizingly around the lips which were thick and swollen with lust. Her clitoris was in a full state of erection. Her long, shapely legs could have belonged to any Vegas show girl.
"I'm so lucky to have a mom like you," Chuck said in an awe-stricken voice.
And Emma was no less impressed with the sight of her stepson's naked body. She had seen many exposed and erected cocks. But she had never seen one as beautiful and vigorous looking as the one that adorned Chuck's body. The instrument of love reminded her of a garish colored toadstool. It was both hard and soft to the touch; firm and pliable. At sight of the boy's soft, full nuts, the woman's fingers twitched spasmodically. She could hardly wait to start playing with them.
"I feel so helpless," Chuck said in a sad voice. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Fuck me, darling," was the response. "Fuck your mother."
"Gladly," Chuck burbled. "Willingly, lovingly. But how? How am I supposed to fuck?"
Emma took hold of both his hands. "This is an occasion we'll want to remember for the rest of our lives," she said. "Let's play out a fantasy." She asked, "During some of your jack-off sessions, didn't you imagine that you were fucking me?"
"Yes," Chuck confessed. "Quite often."
"And how did you fuck me in your dreams?" Emma said with a flushed face. The fact that she had played a role in her son's sexual fantasies excited her.
Chuck averted his eyes. Despite the fact that they were both naked and both honest with each other, he was nevertheless embarrassed to describe the images that had flashed before his mind during his most enthusiastic mastubatory sessions.
The boy recalled. "I'd see myself sitting naked on the toilet. Then, you'd come along into the room. You'd be naked, too. You'd look down at me where I was sitting on the can. You'd stare at my bone and nod approvingly. Then, you'd straddle me. In those dreams, I could almost feel my prick sliding into your cunt. You'd usually be wearing a pair of high heeled shoes to give you leverage. And once, you sank my cock into your cunt, you proceed to throw me the fuck by raising and lowering your hips. And while you pumped, I'd usually be gnawing on a tit."
A few drops of cuntal moisture oozed out of Emma's crack and lodged in the pubic hairs. "Sounds yummingly divine," she gushed. "That'll be the way we fuck."
The thought of playing out one of his more erotic fantasies almost made Chuck ejaculate prematurely. He clenched his fist and thought of the most disagreeable thoughts until the crisis past.
"You okay, honey?" Emma looked at him with concern.
"Yeah. I'm okay now. Almost shot my wad thinking of getting fucked the way I did in my fantasy."
"It is exciting," Emma admitted and took the boy's hand.
Once Chuck sat down on the toilet bowl, his penis erected more fiercely than it did the first time.
"Wow," Emma exclaimed as she looked down at her son's bone. "What a reamer to have poked up my puss." And without further conversation, she squatted over Chuck's lap and eased the head of his cock into her yawning orifice of motherly love.
Chuck closed his eyes. "Oh mom. That feels good. Your cunt feels so good mother sweetheart."
Emma eased herself down until the entire shaft was engulfed between the walls of her cunt. "Fits perfect," she enthused. "Not too big, not too small. And feels yummy," she added in a cracked voice.
Chuck took hold of one of her mammoth tits. "Fuck me mom. Oh FUCK me. Give it to me mother cunt heart. Ram your cunt at me."
As Chuck sucked a tit into his mouth, Emma raised her hips up until her son's cock head almost, but not quite, left the cuntal hole. Then, she dropped her body weight down hard on his lap.
As the full weight of Emma's body plumped down onto the boy, he pulled his mouth off her breast and cried out, "That's right, mom. Give me your cunt. Give me all of it. Please GIVE it to me."
Once again, Emma raised herself slowly up the cock shaft. Then, she'd let her full weight drop down on his lap again. But with each succeeding up and down movement, she increased the tempo of the fuck. And Chuck was able to give the movement of her body more momentum when he grabbed both cheeks of her ass and lifted them up and down with the rhythm of the fuck. The high-heeled shoes gave Emma the necessary leverage to really control the movements.
In a very short time, Chuck pulled his mouth off the well moistened tit, and cried out, "Gonna shoot cum, mom. Gonna blow nuts. Oh mom, that feels so good. Gonna blow up your cunt. Your cunt, mom. Your CUNT."
Emma, too, had reached a crisis. The walls of her vagina spasmed with such intensity and such ferocity that she knew something of an extraordinary nature was going to happen. And it did.
The woman's arms flew back as her choked voice uttered a piercing scream. "Cunt's on fire. Cunt's blowing. BLOWING."
The genitals of both boy and woman exploded in unison. Gobs of cock-cum roared out the head of Chuck's prick. Rivulets of vaginal secretions washed out of the crack. And yet, the woman continued to pump her cunt over the still erected prick of her son. But gradually, the tempo of her movements slackened. The penis grew rubbery.
Finally, Emma lifted one leg up and disengaged from her position astride the lap of her stepson. "Gosh mom," Chuck burbled. "How can I ever thank you?"
Emma became all business. "Just remember how I fucked you, and you'll be okay for tonight. Of course, some of your swap club clients might have unusual tastes."
Chuck's face clouded. "What do you mean by that?"
As Emma washed her genitals, she explained. "Not all women, or men want their loving in the old fashioned way. But you'll find all that out by yourself."
What sort of perverted, old bag would hire a swap club stud anyhow, Chuck wondered? Emma didn't have the answer to that one. And as the evening drew closer, Chuck became filled with a sense of impending doom.
CHAPTER THREE
A phone call from Emma quickly righted the matter of compensation that Madame Amour would be obliged to give Chuck. The proprietor of the swap club agency cried, haggled and bemoaned the price that Emma wanted. But in the end she gave in. And for a very good reason. The woman who had hired Chuck's services had agreed to pay Madame Amour five times the amount she paid to Chuck. She was an old woman, of course. Was she sexually perverted? That was a matter of relativity. It would be up to Chuck to arrive at his own conclusions regarding his client's sexual tastes.
The address that Madame Amour had given Chuck was located in the residential, more exclusive section of the city. After he got off the bus, Chuck had to walk the remaining mile for the people who lived in the hilltop estates didn't permit the noise of traffic to jar their serenity.
A maid answered the door. A pretty, young thing with a French accent and a nutcracker of a figure. "Mrs. Renwick is expecting you?" the girl asked with a smile that sent fingers of lust over the boy's genitals.
"Madame Amour sent me," Chuck said and blushed.
"Ah yes," the girl said with a wink. "Come in, please."
The girl was wearing one of those black, tight fitting maid uniforms with a white, lace apron. The cheeks of her ass bulged out so provocatively that Chuck had to restrain an urge to pinch them. "Follow me," she said and led him up a long, curving staircase to an upstairs bedroom. The girl knocked and then opened the door, and beckoned for Chuck to follow her. Once inside the room, the girl turned and left Chuck alone with the figure in the bed.
The drapes were drawn and with only one light beside the bed, Chuck wasn't too certain about the appearance or shape of his employer for the evening.
"Come closer," the voice from the bed said. "I want a good look at what I'm paying such an exorbitant price for."
"Mrs. Renwick?" Chuck asked, cautiously.
"The same. Come here goddamit!"
Chuck walked slowly over to the bed, and stood respectfully beside it. It was up to her to make all the moves, he decided. As expected, she was an old woman. In her late sixties, or early seventies, he decided. But in a certain erotic way, she was attractive. Her hair was silvery gray but it was cut short in a modern way, and styled nicely. Her grayish, bony face was made up in good taste; just the right amount of lipstick and eye shadow. In her younger days, she was probably a very beautiful woman, Chuck decided. Since she was sitting up in bed, it wasn't possible to see much of her body. But the colorful, silky Chinese kimono did permit him to get a good look at the upper portion of her body. She still had plenty of tit, Chuck detected, and they were in proportion.
The old woman sniffed. "That will be quite enough of that, young man. I don't care to be ogled at even at my age."
"I don't understand," Chuck said, puzzled.
Mrs. Renwick smiled and showed a row of perfect, even teeth that could not possibly be her own. "Didn't Madame Amour explain?" she asked.
"She explained nothing," Chuck said. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or more apprehensive. If she didn't want to get fucked, then why was he here?
The woman shook her head, and clucked her tongue. "That old fart never does explain. Always leaves it up to me." She giggled. "I'm afraid Madame Amour thinks I'm slightly perverted."
Chuck swallowed hard. "Are you?"
"Depends on what your definition of perversion is," she replied, enigmatically. She waved a hand at a chair alongside of her bed. "Sit down, young man. I'll try to explain."
"Please do," Chuck said as he eased himself into the chair alongside of her bed.
Mrs. Renwick fitted a scented cigarette into a long holder. Chuck leaped up to light it for her. "Got a few manners too," she said in a pleased way and she exhaled the smoke which gave the room a sickly sweet odor.
"You're not paying me to light your cigarettes," Chuck said.
The woman smiled. "Curious?"
"Very," Chuck said.
"Good. Pay attention. First of all, I don't want you to fuck me." She peered intently at Chuck. "Relieved?"
"No," Chuck stammered.
"You're a poor liar," she smiled. "Okay. What next? If you're not supposed to ream my cunt then why am I paying you?"
"That's what I'm wondering," Chuck confessed, uneasily. What sort of perversions did she have in mind? He tried to stifle a rising panic. "I'd really like to know why I'm here," he added, nervously.
Mrs. Renwick leaned back against her pillow. "All my life I've wanted to fuck a black man," she said and her old eyes shone with a hard, bright and queer sort of light. "The thought of black meat makes my cunt water. But until now, I've never had the opportunity. I'm a recent widow," she explained.
But that really didn't explain very much. What did that have to do with fucking a black man? And how did her affinity for black meat involve Chuck? He bluntly asked the question.
"It's really quite simple," she said, pleasantly. "I know of an interracial swap club. You escort me to the club. I'll swap you for a black man."
"What'll I get?" Chuck asked, uneasily.
"You'll get what they have to offer you.
That's what I'm paying you for. Take any swap they have. That way, I'll get my black prick man."
Chuck glanced over at the door. The thought of bolting through it flickered through his mind. "Chances are they'll give me a black woman to fuck."
"That chance is a good one," Mrs. Renwick admitted. "Prejudiced?"
"No," Chuck said. "But the thought of fucking a black woman doesn't really turn me on. Races aren't supposed to mix. I was raised with that notion. I'm not defending it. But that's the way I was raised. Can't just change my attitude in a minute."
"I was raised in precisely the same sort of household," Mrs. Renwick said. "Maybe that's why I'm so hot for a black man's ass. Relax a moment, and let me tell you how and when I first got the notion for black cock meat." The woman took a long, thoughtful drag on her perfumed cigarette and stared off into space. Clearly, in her mind's eye, she was seeing herself in another place, another time.
Mrs. Renwick spoke with a faraway look in her eyes. "Guess I was about thirteen or fourteen years old. I was in the first grade at high school. A school that was all white. Then, one day this colored boy was admitted to the school. He was the son of a domestic that worked in one of the homes in our neighborhood. As luck would have it, the black boy was given a seat right across from me. It was the first time I had been that close to a black boy.
"He was such a small kid that the other boys nicknamed him 'Dink.' And since the word dink is slang for the male penis I began to associate the boy with sex. At that time, I was just beginning to get hairs around my cunt. I had never been fucked as yet. But getting cock was in my mind morning, noon, and night. The thought of getting Dink's black cock really turned me on. I jacked off by the hour while I fantasized that black cunt reamer driving into my love hole.
"After a few days, I decided to flirt with Dink to try and get a rise out of him. Holding a book on my lap, I surreptitiously pulled up the skirt to get a rise out of him. Those black eyes of his rolled back until just the whites showed. The next thing I knew, a bulge showed itself between his legs. The next day, I decided to give him a real jolt.
"During a period when we were all supposed to be silently reading, I held a book in my lap again, and slid up my skirt. I saw his eyes ravish the white skin of my thighs. Higher and higher I pulled the skirt. With much skill and much care, I finally got it all the way up. Then, I twisted my body towards him for just a moment to give him an eyeful of my hairy cunt.
"Dink's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. And that prick of his erected again. Out of the corner of my eyes, I tried to evaluate the size of his bone. It was a monster. Just thinking about the cock beneath his trousers really heated up my cunt. As carefully as possible, I slipped my hands down over my exposed cunt, and proceeded to gyrate my hips, very slowly, very carefully. But Dink got the message. I was jacking off before his startled eyes. I didn't dare let myself blow because I'd have screamed and everyone in the class would have turned and looked at me. When I got too heated up, I stopped jacking myself, and pulled down my skirt. It was sheer hell, an agony I'll never forget. But I didn't dare blow off.
"Now, Dink was really hot. And it was my turn to pop my eyes. The little devil very carefully unbuttoned his fly and slipped his cockhead out. He, too, was holding a book in his lap. No one but I could see what he was doing. The sight of that exposed black prick burned itself into my memory. I can never forget it. My lips puckered as though they instinctively wanted to suck on that darling purplish black cockhead.
"Quickly, I scribbled out a note. It said, simply, 'Fuck me.' I tossed the note over to Dink. He glanced at the paper, and then looked over at me. He nodded, and then scribbled something on the back of my note. He tossed it back to me. My hands were trembling so badly when I opened it up that I could hardly read the writing. Dink had written the words, 'Follow me after school.' I nodded at the black boy, and could hardly wait until the final bell. I almost blew my cunt several times.
"After school, I casually and very innocently followed Dink. He walked for miles. Out of town to a wooded area. Then, finally, when we were certain that no one else was around, Dink stopped and I caught up with him. We fell into each other's arms. My cunt began to spasm and I blew out a series of minor orgasms. They were cunt blows precipitated by nerves.
"'Fuck me Dink,' I told the boy. It was a very warm day; warm enough to discard our clothes. And in this secluded wooded area, we were quite safe to strip.
"Dink's naked, black body was really beautiful. Everything about him was black. His prick, his ass, his nuts, everything. I had never seen a naked black person before. And I could hardly tear my eyes off the sight of that extended prick which had jutted up like a telescope. His cock hairs were short and wiry and I wondered what it would feel like to rub my face against them.
"Dink was equally attracted to the sight of my naked, white body. This was the first time the black boy had ever seen one. He kept making funny, gurgling sounds like he was trying to prevent himself from blowing his load. My brownish nipples were prick stiff and the lips of my sweating cunt were wide apart. My clitoris had erected without any manipulations on my part. Dink inspected me all over. My tits, belly, navel, cunt, legs. Then, he dropped to his knees behind me to inspect the cheeks of my ass. Or, so I thought.
"'Bend over a bit,' he said in his husky voice.
"I looked over my shoulder. 'What are you going to do down there?' I asked, suspiciously. I had been fucked a few times before. But no one had ever wanted to get that close to my ass.
"'Just wants to smell a white girl's ass,' Dink said. Was he pulling my leg? I turned around again, and looked closely into his face. It was firm and serious. He really did want to get close to a white girl's ass. And if that's what turned him on, I thought I'd go along. I didn't think it would do me much good. My cunt was the hot box on my body. Or, so I thought.
"The instant I bent over, Dink slipped his long, black fingers over the cream colored cheeks of my ass and stared into the crease as though it was my face. 'Oh honey,' Dink said directly to my ass, 'you're really gorgeous. Really something.' He was making love directly to my ass! The entire scene really began to excite me. This was really different. I bent over even more and spread my cheeks apart as far as possible. That was invitation enough for Dink. The next thing I felt was his entire tongue running up and down the cleavage between my cheeks. He was literally wiping my ass with his tongue.
"My head twisted backwards and I let loose with a scream that frightened the birds out of the trees. Apparently the skin between my cheeks was studded with nerve endings. Here was the most erogenous zone of my body; more sensitive even than my cunt.
"'Oh honey,' I cried out with an excited waver to my voice. 'Lay that tongue up my ass. Suck it. Oh, big, black cockmeat, suck my ass. SUCK," I screamed.
"My own piece of prick meat had gotten so hard, it begged for attention. I couldn't control myself. I had to grasp it between my thumb and finger and work it off. Presently, the cleft between the cheeks became filled with saliva which ran down my ass flesh and trickled down the thighs.
"As I continued to jack myself off, I cried out in a tormented voice. 'Oh black cock baby. Give me a tongue fuck. Lay it in the hole. That's where I want to feel it, black prick honey."
"Dink was a slave to my every whim. Stiffening his tongue, he drove it into my asshole with an almost demonic fury. The next thing I knew that long, piece of tongue meat was stuffing my rectum. I started to scream, and kept on screaming until I blew my cunt. My exhausted body gunnysacked onto the ground.
"Dink remained on his knees with that beautiful, big, black stiff on. "Fuck now,' he said. 'Gotta lay it into the cunt hole. Gotta blow my nuts."
"I no longer had any feeling in my body. But I owed Dink a blow and wasn't going to shirk my duty. I rolled over on my back and spread my legs. I'm numb,' I told him. 'But stick it in. Do what you must do."
"Dink didn't need a second invitation. He mounted me and drove his black hammer into my cavity of cunt. I grunted, my eyes popped open as the most delicious and divine sensation flowed throughout every pore in my body. I wasn't numb after all. The tongue job up my asshole and my bit of masturbation had merely sharpened my senses. I was more keenly attuned to cock than ever. I should add I was more keenly sensitive to black cock.
"And as Dink began to pick up momentum, I whispered, 'Lay your prick into me, baby. Plough that black meat up my white cunt. Let me have it black cock man.' And to make certain I got every inch of that black rod, I threw my legs around Dink's ribcage while he slid his hands under the cheeks of my ass. We were literally fused together. I didn't have to make a single move. Dink pumped away furiously. He was in complete charge of the fuck.
"'Blowing baby,' he sang out in his throaty voice. 'Pumpin' juice up your cunt.-'
"And indeed he was discharging what seemed like quarts of seminal cream up my vaginal cavity. That's when I threw my legs apart and straight up into the air in the form of the letter V. And in that position, I let loose. Cuntal secretions gey-sered up and mingled with the black man's sex fluids. That darling, black boy continued to pump until his cock wilted and the bone disappeared."
For a very long while Mrs. Renwick was silent. Then, she added as though to complete her narrative. "Our family moved away and I never saw Dink again. Nor was I ever fucked by a black person again. When I grew older, I married a man selected by my family. I never loved him but I was a dutiful wife. Now, I'm alone, and I intend to indulge myself in a little fun before it's too late. I want to know the thrill of getting fucked by a black man again. I want to feel a tongue up my ass, and I want that big, black prick reaming out my cunt. I've dreamt about it for years. Now, I must have black cock. Must," she added with a heavy sigh.
Chuck felt closer to old Mrs. Renwick, and felt he better understand her. But why a swap club?
"Oh I couldn't have a black man come here," she explained. "My neighbors would raise a fuss. They're still living in the middle ages. No. A swap club is ideal to make a contact. Everyone is naked. Everyone is fucking. I wouldn't be noticed. I've inquired about several such clubs, and have been assured I'll get a black man for a fuck provided I can bring someone to swap with. That is the rule of all these clubs."
Chuck still looked puzzled. "But if we're going to a swap club, why are you still in bed?"
The woman explained. "This swap club thing is all new to me. You know. Everyone naked, everyone screwing. The first time I'd blush silly. And I don't want to give them the impression I'm from the sticks."
Chuck began to comprehend. "And so, you want to watch me fuck someone to get an idea of what it's like to watch another couple going to town."
"You're a bright kid," Mrs. Renwick beamed. "Exactly what I've got in mind."
"Exactly what do you have in mind?" Chuck inquired, politely.
"I'll be the audience. You put on the show."
"With whom?" Chuck asked.
"Marie. My maid," the old woman chuckled. "My French maid."
Chuck remembered the cute shaped girl who had answered the door. And the remembrance of her cheeky ass pulled his cock stiffly upward.
Mrs. Renwick looked boldly down at his crotch. "Ah yes, you do remember the maid," and she rang a bell.
Marie entered the room. She was smiling and looked eager to please. "You rang madam?"
"You know damn well I rang," Mrs. Renwick sniffed. "This is the young man I told you about."
Marie looked Chuck up and down as though he was a side of beef. "Nice," she murmured. "Does he French?"
"If he don't, he sure is going to learn in a hurry. The thought of watching a couple French is enough to make my cunt burn. And that's the sort of action, I can expect to watch at the swap club. It'll be a good exercise to watch some sucking action right now." She added with a demure look. "I'll get all the blushes out of my system, now."
Chuck stood up and when he did both women looked at his bulging crotch. The maid laughed. "Apparently the young monsieur likes to French. Oui?" she asked Chuck.
As a rule Chuck felt shy and reticent around women. But there was something about this Marie that raised his spirits and made them bubble. His tongue flickered suggestively over his lips as he eyed the young girl as lewdly as possible.
"Baby," Chuck said, "I'll French you any way you want. A tongue in your cunt, or even up that sweet ass of yours. Just say the word."
"Ahhh," Marie smiled, admiringly, "a real tiger man." And she drum rolled the r's as she pronounced tiger. "A real French lover boy." With deft fingers, she unzipped his fly and pulled his unresisting and throbbing bone out into the open.
"That's a beaut," Mrs. Renwick opined from the bed. "If the color of your skin was black, I'd eat it myself."
"Shame on you," Marie chastised her. "You promised me this bone."
"It's all yours," the elderly woman replied. "Are you eating him? Or is he going to eat you?"
Marie thought a moment. Then, with a big smile announced. "We both eat each other, and at the same time."
"Good girl!" Mrs. Renwick clapped. "Good thinking. If I'm not mistaken, isn't that the old fashioned sixty-nine?"
"Oui madam," Marie replied. "This soixante-neuf is something I have always loved ever since I was a little girl."
The sixty-nine was a part of Chuck's education that Emma, his stepmother had neglected to give him in her crash course. And so, he continued to look puzzled. "Sixty-nine?" he uttered and sounded like a fool. Now, he realized that his father had been wrong in keeping him away from girls until he was seventeen. It was a distinct handicap to be so ignorant about sex.
The old woman and the young girl both laughed in unison. Marie scolded. "We have a little baby here. He has never heard of the sixty-nine."
"Teach him, honey," the laughing elderly woman urged. "When you get through with him, he'll know how to lap a female ass."
Chuck grimaced. "I'm not so sure I want to lap your ass. I was just using a figure of speech when I said I'd stick a tongue up your sweet ass. Your cunt was what I was referring to."
"Have you ever tried eating a female ass?" Mrs. Renwick inquired.
"No," Chuck was compelled to admit.
"Then don't knock it," she snapped. And turning to Marie. "Go honey, go. Give me a good show. I'll get all the blushes out of my face now. When I get into that swap club, they'll think I've been swapping for years, I'll look so blase and sophisticated." She clapped her hands. "Sixty-nine. And don't spare the tongues."
Marie gave Chuck's cock another passionate squeeze. "This is so divinely warm, I hate to let go of it. But I'll want all of you exposed like your charming red pecker."
"Are you going to strip, too?" Chuck asked the maid.
"But of course. How else could we suck each other at the same time?" she asked as though Chuck was a moron.
Chuck colored. "Yeah. That's right. Okay, I'm game," and he proceeded to take off his clothes and pile them up neatly on the chair.
Marie zipped off her black uniform to reveal nothing but skin underneath. "You like?" she asked holding out her arms as though she was model on display.
"I like," Chuck breathed in a barely audible voice.
Mrs. Renwick chuckled. "Marie has provided the inspiration for a lot of jack-off dreams."
"I can believe it," Chuck said and felt his lips grow moist from the saliva that was creeping out of his mouth. There couldn't be a doubt that a female, naked body along the proportions of the one that belonged to Marie was the stuff that filled many a man's fantasized mastubatory session. Her tits seemed to flow out of her body and when her body moved, the breasts jiggled ever so slightly. The porous nipple flesh at the tip of each boob seemed to be a living substance. The pores kept expanding and contracting as though they were breathing and moisture imparted a dazzling sheen which made Chuck almost, but not quite, avert his eyes. Now, blood pumped into the nipple flesh and made it hard. The juicy, blood-red color made them especially suckable.
Mrs. Renwick cackled. "Marie must like you, son. Her tits just got a hard on."
Chuck paid no attention to the old crone. His total concentration was poured over the seemingly pneumatic body with its curving lines and unflawed skin. And he had never seen a navel as adorned the midriff of this living doll. The belly button was an extremely large one, and gouged in a most erotic way. "It looks like a cunt," Chuck told himself. And indeed, the slit up the navel did closely resemble the lip portion of a female's genitals.
The narrow waist of the girl snaked out in both directions and fused into firm, fleshy and glassy smooth thighs, hips, and ass cheeks. The legs were the longest, and shapliest looking nutcrackers Chuck had ever seen. And her pussy had to be a work of art. Not one single cuntal hair adorned the most edible looking portion of her body. Although Marie had to be in her late teens, and well beyond the age of puberty, the skin around both cuntal lips was completely dehaired.
Marie explained with a smile. "I shaved off my pussy hairs. One of my boy friends complained that he got too many in his mouth every time he ate me."
Chuck sighed. "There's no accounting for tastes. I'd have loved to pulled in a mouthful of your cunt hairs. And the black patch of hairs over your creamy skin would give it just the right erotic touch to make it perfect."
Marie pouted. "From now on, I let my cunt hairs grow back. If my Chuckie loves to eat my hairs, then he's going to eat my hairs."
"For crissakes," Mrs. Renwick crowed, impatiently. "Get on with the sixty-nine. I'm getting hot enough to jack-off."
Marie paid no attention to her. She knew that a sixty-nine should never be rushed. Both participants should be properly prepared for the suck. And she wanted a few more minutes to eyeball the youth's hard, smooth, naked flesh. Ever since Chuck had stripped, she had been silently admiring the quality of his cock bone. Most of her boy friends were able to erect. But if she didn't go to town on them immediately, the prick softened. In brief, they were unable to sustain an erection for more than a minute or so without additional stimulation of a physical nature.
But Chuck was the first fucker she'd ever known who was able to bone up, and keep the penis rigid for an almost indefinite period of time. And the only stimuli that were working on him weje of a visual nature. The mere sight of her naked body was enough to make him rise up into a near permanent state of erection. At least, Chuck would remain stiff until he cracked his nuts. The boy was a refreshing change for her; so youthful, so natural, and so hot-blooded. She was getting sick of all the old farts who had been screwing her. They all needed abnormal stimuli to even achieve an erection. One old guy had asked her to piss on him in an effort to charge up a bone. That sort of thing didn't turn her on at all. But Chuck, almost virginal with his pent up fury for a fuck, was a male she was going to enjoy. And the smooth cheeks of his ass looked so firm, she could almost take a bite out of them.
This visual stimuli of the boy's naked body began to stoke the furnace of her cunt and squirt out beads of moisture over her denuded pussy lips.
"Sixty-nine," Mrs. Renwick hissed. "Whatinhell are you waiting for. You're both hot enough to blow now."
"Patience, Madam," Marie asked of her employer. "We are now going into the sixty-nine."
Chuck scratched his head. "I still don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Marie explained. "You are going to be in a position to suck on my ass and cunt at the same time."
"Wild," Chuck exclaimed enthusiastically. "How?"
"I'll gladly be your teacher young man," Marie smiled. "Listen carefully. And do as I tell you. No back talk. No objections. No cries of distaste when I shove my ass in your face."
Chuck gulped. "I'll try not to Marie. But shoving your ass in my face. Is that really necessary?"
Marie igonored his question. "Lie down on the floor. Over here," she instructed, "where Mrs. Renwick can get a good view."
The old woman propped herself up in bed on her elbows. "I don't want to miss a thing. And don't hold back. Make me blush. Embarrass me. Get it all out of my system so I can really enjoy the swap club bit."
Marie nodded. "I shall try my best to embarrass you, Madam."
Chuck had already taken up his position on the floor.
Marie stuffed a pillow under his head. "I want you to be perfectly comfortable," she said. And despite the fact that she had been admiring his stiffened prick for quite some time, she paused for just another minute to again drink in its beauty and dwell on the mysteries of an erected male penis. Minutes ago, the penis had been a shrivelled, colorless, and most unexciting sliver of meat. But when Chuck saw her naked body, something happened within him. The unglamorous cock that was no bigger than a minute ago became charged with life, vitality and assumed a new personality. The meat charged upward, grew stiff, became vividly colored. But the most exciting part of all, as far as Marie was concerned, was the way the cockhead expanded its conical shape, the skin stretched back as smooth as velvet, and the dark purplish coloration assumed a hue that excited the female hormones. The girl, in her quieter moments, was of a philosophical bent of mind. Now, she wondered if the way a man erected had something to do with his success in life. Some pricks grew stiff for just a moment and wilted under the first disappointment, the first indifferent glance from the female. Other, more vibrant, more powerful cock bones grew rigid and remained that way until their goal was attained despite all obstacles and discouragements.
Chuck, she decided, belonged to the latter category. And she felt even more thrilled to think that she was one of the first females to properly break in his love stick. "Here I come," she called down at Chuck. And in a playful tone. "Ready, or not."
Chuck was more than ready to receive the nearness of Marie's lovely, naked body. Yet, he wasn't quite prepared for what he learned was the sixty-nine position. Stretched out on the floor with the pillow under his head, Chuck had an open mind. He more or less expected that Marie was going to mount him and assume the role of the more dominant partner. She'd fuck him from a woman-on-top position. But he quickly learned that the woman-on-top fuck was not what Marie had in mind at all.
Instead, Marie turned and faced the opposite direction for a fucking type mount. She faced the direction of his violently throbbing prick. If something didn't happen quickly, there was a very good chance for a premature ejaculation. "Hurry on," he cried out.
Marie then straddled the area around his face, and knelt down on her knees and elbows. They were now in the classic position of the sixty-nine; a position as old as antiquity. Carvings depicting the sixty-nine have been found on the tombs of pharaohs and Roman emperors. But no great king could have enjoyed the proximity of a woman's ass more than seventeen-year-old Chuck in his very first sixty-nine position.
Chuck stared up to realize with an exciting start that he was, indeed, within tongue striking distance of Marie's ass and cunt. And Marie, of course, was easily within mouth striking distance of Chuck's prick. They could suck each other off, and at the same time. But the oral assault on each other's body didn't commence at once. Both wanted a few minutes to luxuriate in the closeness of each other's sexual organs. Marie wanted just another minute to drink in the visual poetry of that lovely prick. And Chuck wanted a bit more time to dwell on the graceful symmetry of the perfectly curving ass cheeks. Ane what sight could be lovelier than a bared cunt?
Chuck slipped both hands over the globes of ass flesh and wondered how he could have objected to kissing Marie's ass. As a matter-of-fact, he now admitted to himself, that the nearness of her ass excited him more than the same distance to her face. There was something hypnotic about the smoothness of the female ass flesh, the curves, the cleavage, and in the valley of rear-end love, the rectal Kairs. Even the slight odor from Marie's asshole excited him. This part surprised him. But it was certainly true. His sense of smell, during this heated state, increased his sexual desires. And hence, all female smells were of an exciting nature.
Of course, Chuck had no way of knowing that Marie had carefully prepared for her debut with Chuck. Not only had she bathed her body in a specially prepared bubble bath, but she had sprayed the area of her cunt and ass with a blend of the most exquisite French perfume. What Chuck was now inhaling was a combination of odors. And that combination consisted of the French perfume, and the natural rectal secretions. The blend of such odors acted almost like an aphrodisiac which charged Chuck's blood with lusts of an almost violent nature. With each beat of his rapidly pounding heart, the words, "suck, suck, suck," reverberated throughout his entire body.
But now, his frenzied senses had hurled him onto the horns of a dilemma. Should he first attack the asshole and fleshy cheeks with his lips and tongue, or should he concentrate exclusively on the cunt that was no more than a whisper away from his mouth?
In her position, Marie was also confronted by a variety of choices that might have perplexed the less experienced sixty-niner. But Marie knew exactly what had to be done, when and where the act had to be executed. The sixty-nine had been the subject of much concentrated research on the part of the girl ever since she began her fucking career. And now she was going to bestow her expertise on the cock, balls and rectal cavity of her near virginal lover.
Grasping the penile shaft tightly in her left hand, Marie opened her mouth and sucked the bulging cockhead into her oral furnace. The heat, moisture and porous tongue lashed Chuck's body with such vibrations that he began to tremble uncontrollably. At that precise moment, the cheeks of Marie's ass spread apart, and Chuck instinctively pushed his entire face between the cleavage. And just as automatically, his long tongue rolled up and began to lap at the flesh between the cliffs of ass. His own reflexes had solved his problem. The first area the sixty-niner had to suck was female ass.
Marie's educated mouth and tongue were never inactive. Her full, shapely ruby-red lips tightly engulfed the entire cockhead. Her tongue writhed agitatedly over the sensitized surface of the head. Saliva that flowed from the very depths of her being, flowed over the penile meat and increased its temperature. And as the girl tongued and sucked in her own unique manner, the tip of her extremely sensitive finger was partially lodged inside of Chuck's asshole. The cumulative effects of these sensations raged through Chuck and made him toss all restraining inhibitions aside. The thought that his face and tongue were firmly lodged between the cheeks of a woman's ass didn't dismay him at all. To the contrary, the imprisonment of his face up Marie's ass excited him all the more. His tongue lapped from the lowest point of the cleavage to the highest point. And every time, he passed the center of the valley, he made contact with a clump of springy, rectal hairs. And the idea struck him to jab his tongue deep into the girl's scented asshole.
Marie was also enlarging her sphere of activities. After giving the cockhead the full benefit of her mouth and tongue, she opened her mouth even wider. Then, she dropped her entire oral cavity down the shaft until her lips made contact with his cock hairs. And during this downward movement, her finger automatically probed deeper into Chuck's electrified rectal cavity.
From the other end, Chuck had no difficulty in spearing his tongue directly into Marie's asshole. The tongue plunged into the rear-end tunnel so deeply that his face became almost fused against the cheeks of the girl's ass. This touched a button within the girl which galvanized her into more action of a frenzied nature. Spreading her cheeks apart, she raised them up to such a height that Chuck's tongue slithered out of the cleavage and brushed against the outer surface of the cunt. Then, Marie reversed the movement. She lowered her hips, and this forced Chuck's tongue to sail up the cunt and back between the cheeks of the ass. Once the effectiveness of this movement was established, Marie increased the tempo of the wiping action. And now, Chuck's tongue was being lavished on her cunt as well as ass.
Marie again demonstrated her expertise in the art of oral love. Not content with merely sucking and tonguing Chuck's prick, she enlarged her sphere of oral influence over his soft and sensitive nuts. Those sensitized lips spidered over the sacs of his balls. And this action had the same effect as throwing a lighted match into a can of gasoline.
The boiling, churning cock-cum leaped out of its reservoir in the testicles and surged towards the exit at the head of the prick. This outward flow caused the cock meat to enlarge even further. And when Marie felt the shaft and head bulging out even more in her mouth, she relaxed the restraints she was keeping on her vaginal walls. Cuntal-cum rivered out of the cavity and charged out the crack and into Chuck's slobbering mouth. And at that precise instant of cuntal detonation, gobs of cock cream fragmented out the cockeye and spattered all over the roof of Marie's mouth. Then, she proceeded to suck, lap and swallow up every possible drop of the heavenly dew. And from the reverse end, Chuck was engaged in the same sort of oral activity: lapping, sucking and swallowing. Marie's cunt cream tasted honey-sweet and he didn't want to lose a single drop.
But finally, the flow of love abated from both cock and cunt. The penis wilted, and the cuntal lips slid together again. Almost reluctantly, Marie disengaged herself from the position of sixty-nine. Never before in her entire career as a sixty-niner had she ever blown out such a load. Now, she felt as depleted as a sack, as boneless as a scarecrow.
Chuck's eyes were still glassy as he gazed up at the ceiling. Images of the sixty-nine still danced before his enraptured eyes. "Ass," he murmured. "Could suck on that ass all day and all night. And that cunt! Oh jeezis, what a tender piece of meat. Suck it all day and all night."
Marie took the boy up tenderly in her arms and kissed him on the lips. "Darling," she whispered. "No man has ever sucked my cunny like you. You're precious, and I'm yours forever and forever. My cunt and ass will always be at your disposal."
During the demonstration of lust and now love, Mrs. Renwick leaped out of bed and stood in front of a mirror. "I'm blushing," she gushed. "All that tongue in the asshole bit really did embarrass me. But I'm okay now. I'm ready to find my nigger man at the swap club." And directly to Chuck, she said, "Revive yourself junior. You're going to escort me to the club. And right now!"
Chuck staggered to his feet as Marie dutifully wiped off his cock. "After the club, you come right back to your Marie. I want some more of that tongue in my ass."
"Sure," Chuck said but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of the interracial swap club, and the many problems he was sure to encounter.
"Goddamit," Mrs. Renwick spat at the boy. "Get dressed. My cunt is all charged up for some black, stiff peter. Don't let me down."
Chuck frowned. "I'm not so sure I want to be swapped for a black piece of ass."
"What you want doesn't make any difference," the elderly woman said in a hard tone of voice. "I'm paying for your time Stud. And just remember that!"
Chuck was in too deep to back out now. But for the first time, he began to really regret his decision to become a swap club stud. He was nothing more than a slave to the whims of sexual perverts who had enough money to pay the stud fee. And from the look in the eyes and face of Mrs. Renwick as she dressed, there wasn't a doubt in Chuck's mind that the woman was beset with all sorts of bizarre and abnormal sexual tastes.
CHAPTER FOUR
The President of the White-Black Interracial Swap Club banged the gavel on the table top. "Meeting now is in session," he intoned in a serious voice. "Activities will commence."
The president was a shiny-headed, black man of middle age with a pot belly and round shoulders. The distinguishing member of his sex hung down between his legs as mute testimony that some black men were indeed hung like a horse. Beside him, two young, white girls, still in their teens, draped their arms around his waist and unashamedly proceeded to shower both sides of his face with kisses. They were his assistants. The man's flaccid, but hose-like penis filled out like dough rising. Then, the meat stiffened and rose slowly up to the angle of the fuck. Erected, the black, truncheon-like affair almost reached the length of one full foot.
There was much applause from the assembly as this marked the signal for everyone to look around, make a deal, and swap. There were no restrictions to the type of sexual activity desired. Only one rule of the club was rigidly enforced. Each couple must consist of a white person, and a black person. No fornication, or sucking exercises would be tolerated between an all white couple, or an all black couple.
Chuck and Mrs. Renwick entered the club in the middle of the applause. The Club Greeter checked Mrs. Renwick's membership card and then proceeded to usher them into the huge room whose only furniture consisted of couches. There were, however, many cushions strewn about on the floor.
The greeter was a middle-aged white woman who looked like a suburban housewife. She was beginning to put on a bit of weight which gave her a matronly look. Her name was Mrs. Rooter and she looked like ten thousand other housewives who were entrenched in Suburbia U.S.A. Once a week, this particular Mrs. Rooter and her Establishment oriented husband relieved the tedium of suburbia by participating in the affairs of the White-Black Interracial Swap Club.
"So glad you could make it," Mrs. Rooter burbled happily to Mrs. Renwick. She eyed Chuck up and down in a lewd sort of way. "Your partner is going to be very popular tonight. There's a shortage of good-looking, teenage, white boys to swap."
"I won't swap him cheaply," Mrs. Renwick said with utter seriousness. "I'm paying plenty for his services. And I won't swap him unless I get the best piece of black cock in the club." She hesitated. "This is my first meeting. Got any suggestions?"
Mrs. Rooter shook her head. "No indeed. Beauty dwells in the eye of the beholder. You've got to make your own selection." She did offer a bit of advice. "So many white women come here looking for the long, black cock. The color of the skin really has nothing to do with quality. And neither does the size. Be selective. Some black men are wonderful lovers. But you're going to have to be selective." She shook hands with Mrs. Renwick. "Good luck. I do hope you're able to hit the big one."
"Big one?" Chuck asked, sheepishly.
Mrs. Rooter's eyes became softer when they settled on Chuck. "Yes, dear. Mrs. Renwick will explain. The goal of every woman is to hit the Big Orgasm. It is quite impossible to feel fulfilled as a woman without hitting the Big O at least once in a lifetime." Then, the back of her hand brushed accidentally on purpose against Chuck's crotch area. "Just wish the color of my skin was black tonight. I'd love to get what you've got to give. I just know I'd hit the Big O with a handsome, young stud like you."
"I work for Madame Amour," Chuck informed her. The suburbanite looked as though she had money which could mean a very big tip for Chuck.
"Ah yes," Mrs. Rooter's eyes lit up. "I'll ask my husband if I can rent you for an evening."
Mrs. Renwick looked annoyed. "You two are gabbing on my time," she cut in. And taking Chuck by the hand, "Let's go."
Mrs. Rooter pointed to a door at one side of the room. "That's your dressing room." She giggled. "I mean your undressing room. During the swapping session, everyone will have to be nude. Otherwise, we ladies won't be able to properly judge the quality of the meat we're swapping for."
Mrs. Renwick and Chuck went into a large room equipped with lockers. There were many other couples who were already in a state of undress, or partial undress. Chuck quickly stripped, and so did Mrs. Renwick. In fact, Chuck's elderly patroness undressed faster. When Chuck finally turned around after he had stepped out of the last undergarment, Mrs. Renwick was impatiently waiting for him. This was the first time he'd seen her naked. And he was really quite surprised to realize that despite her age, she was still a very attractive woman. Her gray, silvery hair was tinted blue and exuded an aura of lust. To his surprise, he noticed that her silvery cunt hairs also had a bluish sheen to them. The fact that a woman of advanced age was so preoccupied with cock excited Chuck. Her titties were flabby, of course. But they were still filled out enough to make a handful. And the long, brownish colored nipples looked supple enough to fit the size of any mouth. Loose skin hung down over her belly, and her rather long legs were on the bony side. But she still had a pair of very nice buttocks. What they lacked in firmness, they more than compensated for in abundance and resilience. And an exciting part that surprised Chuck was the loose way the ass cheeks hung down. The cleavage between the cheeks was so pronounced that he could look clearly up the ass and distinguish a cluster of grayish rectal hairs.
Despite himself, Chuck's penis stirred and thickened although it didn't raise up in a complete erection. Nevertheless, the partial change in Chuck's penis was shrewdly noted by Mrs. Renwick.
"I'm flattered that a young buck like you is reacting to me," she said. "When I get over this kick I'm on for black meat, I'll hire you to come over and really give me a cunt stuffing. That is," she added with a mischievous smile, "if you can tear yourself away from Marie. You really made a hit with her."
Chuck's face colored. The thought of displaying a sexual attraction for the old woman was most embarrassing. Did he have some kind of a "mommy complex?" he wondered. He did get a big charge out of fucking his own stepmother. But now, there wasn't time to dwell on such matters. Mrs. Renwick took him by the hand and led him out into the main clubroom where serious bartering and swapping were in process. In process, also, was active sexual engagements between white and black partners who had been paired off for the meeting.
Chuck's eyes grew round as saucers as he tried to take in all of the fucking scenes with one sweeping glance around the room. Aside from the fact that each couple consisted of a white and black person, he was able to make a few more quick but cogent observations. There were many rather bizarre differences between each fucking couple. Next to color, the biggest one seemed to be age; an old, white woman with a young colored boy; an old colored woman with a young white boy. There were also differences in social status. For instance, Chuck noticed a white woman who could have been a refined society matron. Her partner for the fuck was a huge black man who looked as though he hauled garbage for a living. A short, petite woman was going to town with a black man built like gargantua. A mammoth titted, big assed black woman was riding a pint sized white man. And so, it went. The people in this room, Chuck decided, had more than just a color hang-up. They were way out. And he kept wondering what sort of a nutty, black woman he was going to wind up with.
"Isn't that cute," Mrs. Renwick beamed at an odd paired couple who were oblivious to anyone else in the room. The girl was white and blonde and couldn't have been more than twelve years old. A fuzz of light colored hairs was just beginning to sprout around the cuntal lips. The cheeks of her ass were sweet as peaches, and boobies were just beginning to push out over the upper part of her chest.
The naked, little girl was seated on several cushions which were piled up under her naked ass. On the floor, an elderly black man, bald, toothless and bony, was sucking at her cunt. The old, black man was lying on his side and his face was firmly wedged between the girl's legs. The slobbering and smacking of the noisy cunt eater testified to the goodness of his meal. His black face glistened from the cuntal effluents which dripped out of the near hairless box.
The large, glassy eyes of the doll-like girl had rolled backwards and her transfixed face looked as though it was held by some inner, heavenly vision. It was a look of utter rapture, utter absorption.
Chuck's prick did erect at the sight. And the prospect of fucking a black woman no longer bothered him. He simply had to feel cunt now. "A stiff prick knows no conscience," he muttered to himself as Mrs. Renwick led him through the throng of sharp-eyed traders who were intent on finding the ideal swap.
Mrs. Renwick continued to diligently look around her like a beagle sniffing the wind. Finally, her discerning eyes lit on the black man who was president of the swap club. "He looks so distinguished," she murmured. "Something like my late husband only he was white."
"Sure you don't want someone who is younger than him?" Chuck asked, a bit concerned with her choice. He didn't want her to be dissatisfied and make a bad report to Madame Amour. And he was especially anxious to stay on the good side of Mrs. Renwick in order to pump a fuck into Marie again. "Be careful," he warned.
"He may not want me," Mrs. Renwick said. "Let's find out."
The President of the White-Black Interracial Swap Club had a troubled air about him when Mrs. Renwick drew his attention. "Swap time," the elderly woman said.
For a minute, the black man looked back at Mrs. Renwick as though he didn't comprehend. Then, he said slowly, "You want to swap with me?"
"I do indeed," Mrs. Renwick said, smiling her most flirtatious smile at the president. "You remind me so much of my late husband. Of course, he was white. But there are certain similarities." Her face colored a bit when she added. "I'm not referring to the magnificent way you're hung, sir. My husband was rather lacking in that department."
The president's name, they learned was Richard. But everyone in the club merely called him Deacon Dick. He did look something like a deacon with his pompous air, and introspective eyes. Now, he scratched his face which smiled a bit. Even when he smiled, he looked solemn.
"Dunno," Deacon Dick said as he tried to make up his mind.
This indecision angered Chuck. He remembered how the two cute, blonde girls were hugging and kissing the old fart. He was probably after young pussy. "Not good enough for you, Deacon Dick?" Chuck asked in his most sarcastic manner.
The tone of Chuck's voice startled the Deacon. It suddenly occurred to him that he was making entirely the wrong impression. "Oh no, no," he hastened to explain. "Not at all." And taking Mrs. Renwick's hand, he bestowed a blubbery, thick-lipped kiss on the back of it. "I'm flattered. Most flattered." He trained his sad, black eyes on the elderly socialite. "Why you look like high society madam. I'm just a poor, nigger man who come up the hard way."
The back of Mrs. Renwick's hand brushed ever so lightly against the long, hose-like, black cock that swayed a bit as Deacon moved from one foot to the other. "I've never been prejudiced Deacon Dick. Never. Why, as a matter-of-fact, the very first boy who fucked me was black. A little, charming, black school mate. I've never forgotten him. He, too, was exceptionally well endowed as the swingers say."
"Words fail me," Deacon said. "You've got class madam. And I've always admired class in a woman."
"I'm a bit older than you are," Mrs. Renwick pointed out. "But inside, I'm still young. My pussy doesn't feel any different than it did when I was thirteen."
Deacon bowed slightly. "You're the very essence of youthful vitality, madam."
"Then, you're willing to swap with me?" Mrs. Renwick asked, hopefully.
Deacon Dick said sincerely, "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to fuck you, madam." Then, he eyed Chuck with his sad, little eyes. "But alas, my wife couldn't attend this meeting. All I have to swap is my cantankerous daughter. And I wouldn't pass her off on my worst enemy."
"Tut, tut, tut," Mrs. Renwick clucked. "My Chuckie will be happy to screw her. I'm paying for his time, and he has to do what I want him to do."
Chuck felt his anger rising. "You don't own me, goddamit," he cursed. "If something's wrong with his daughter, I'm not screwing her for you, or for anyone else. And if those apples don't sit right, I'll arrange for Madame Amour to refund your money. So let's knock that owning me shit off right now!"
Mrs. Renwick's mouth flew open. "Why Chuckie, I didn't mean to offend you. I thought you liked me." She patted his shrivelled penis. "No, dear. If 'there's something terribly wrong with Deacon's daughter, you most certainly do not have to screw her. We'll swap with someone else."
Somewhat mollified, Chuck asked a bit sheepishly, "What is wrong with your daughter?"
Lines of anger etched into the smooth, black face. "Everything is wrong with my daughter! I don't understand her at all. I've tried to be a good father. Trouble is, I've been too damned good to her. I've always been a poor nigger man who tried to make his way in Whitey's world. She calls herself some kind of Afro-American and says I'm an Uncle Tom. Says I sold myself out to Whitey. Well, goddammit, I had to eat didn't I?"
Chuck couldn't help restrain a smile. He remembered the resentment he felt towards his own father. Apparently, every race and every culture had a generation gap problem. But fucking, or rather taming a rebellious black bitch like that rather appealed to him. It would be like busting a wild bronch. They made the best rides. And such a girl, tamed, would throw him the best fuck.
Chuck said, "I'm willing to swap if you are."
Deacon Dick looked at Chuck in amazement that was also tinged with horror. "You're brave, son. But you don't know what you're getting into."
"From what you tell me," Chuck said seriously, "I'd like to get into her. I want to feel all that resentment and fury she's got. My prick wants to feel it."
The Deacon continued to look sad; sad and pessimistic. "I've had real tiger men try to tame her. And she sent them all running. She could break your spirit as well as your bones."
Chuck now began to have second doubts about his decision to swap with the Deacon. But it was much too late to back out. And despite his display of independence a few minutes back, he knew he'd have to oblige Mrs. Renwick regardless of the circumstances. He simply couldn't afford to lose his job.
And so, he said, "I'm willing to swap." But he no longer sounded quite as confident or as enthusiastic about the idea.
Deacon Dick grasped Chuck's hand and pumped it up and down. "You're brave, son. I appreciate it. But are you sure?"
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Chuck said, irriti-bly. "What in hell is her name anyhow? "
"Her real name is Honeysweet. But that resentful soul refuses to go by the name I give her. Calls herself Afro X. Whatinhell kind of name is Afro X?"
Mrs. Renwick took hold of Deacon Dick's hand and started to lead him away before Chuck could change his mind. Deacon called out at Chuck. "I'll send Honey-sweet over to you, son. Just stay where you are."
"How do I know she'll come?" Chuck called back.
"She'll jump at the chance of breaking another Whitey into small pieces. Don't worry. She'll be there soon enough," Deacon Dick assured Chuck.
But Chuck no longer felt assured about the outcome of taming a rebellious, black girl whose hatred of Whitey was food and drink to her soul. "Just whatinhell have I gotten myself into?" he asked himself.
The answer was quickly forthcoming in the personage of Honeysweet, the daughter of Deacon Dick. Or, as she preferred to call herself, Afro X. "You Whitey?" a voice behind Chuck asked.
Chuck whirled around as though he expected a judo chop. He found himself confronted by a tall, shapely, handsome faced black girl with an enormous, fuzzy Afro hairdo. She was sharkskin black. The only relief from this blackness was in the degrees of shading over her body. For instance, the flesh of her spear-shaped nipples was much blacker than the flesh of her tits. The short, wiry cuntal hairs were even blacker than the nipple flesh. And the blackest black could be found in the cleavage between the cheeks of her ass. Her negroid lips were very thick but shapely. And somehow, Chuck associated them with the act of sucking cock. But the anger in the girl's eyes precluded any other thoughts of a sexual nature. The chip on the girl's shoulders might have been an invisible one but it was obvious even to a blind man.
Chuck bristled. "My name is Chuck not Whitey. And according to the rules of this club, we've been legally swapped. We may as well make the best of it."
With arms akimbo, the girl retorted. "I don't intend to make the best of anything with some white assed bastard!"
Chuck clenched his fists but restrained himself. "I'd just as soon jack off than fuck a black assed bitch like you!"
Chuck had taken up the gauntlet of the black girl's insult. Now, an impasse had been reached. Sooner, or later, they both knew they'd have to fuck or be kicked out of the club. And neither one wanted to be expelled. But it was obvious, that the girl intended to break Chuck's spirit in one way or another.
Her thick lips curled. "Don't have nothin' personal against you, Whitey. But two hundred years of oppression don't make me want to get down on my knees and kiss your white ass."
"For crissakes," Chuck exclaimed with a helpless feeling. "I'm not even two hundred years old! I haven't been oppressing anyone."
The sharp, black eyes of Afro X burned into Chuck. "Have you ever marched in the streets to demonstrate against the lily white Establishment?" no
"No," Chuck admitted.
"Have you ever gone down into the black ghetto, and tried to help poor, black folk better themselves?"
Chuck felt he was falling into a trap. But he was again compelled to answer in the negative.
The girl's face grew even angrier, more threatening. "Have you ever in your life give thought to the way you white folks exploit the black people?" This question was asked with even more vehemence.
"Jeezis," Chuck breathed. "I come from a poor, white family that had just as hard a time making ends meet. I have no prejudices at all against black, green, or yellow people."
Afro X folded her arms. "Your mind is open. Free from all prejudice. Is that right white boy?"
Her insolent manner was grating. Chuck shouted. "Yes goddamit! That is right!"
A faint smile pulled back the girl's lips. "You regard me the same as you regard any white girl? No difference?"
"No difference!" Chuck shot back. That wasn't quite true. But he didn't feel he wanted to argue the point at that particular time.
"Okay white boy," Afro X said grinning. "Since we both gotta fuck each other, let's start."
Chuck was so surprised at her sudden change in attitude that he remained speechless.
Afro X continued. "Of course, I got a few whims, I want you to cater to before you sink white meat into my black cunt."
"Whims?" Chuck asked and he was afraid to pursue the question.
"Whims," Afro X stated, emphatically. "Whims I gotta have before I gets fucked. You read me okay white boy?"
"Not too clearly," Chuck admitted in a faint voice.
Afro X chuckled. "Since you regards me as a white girl, I'm sure you won't mind my kind of little whims."
"What kind of little whims are we talking about?" Chuck asked and his voice trembled a bit.
Laughter shook the girl. "I got what you call an anal hangup. You know what I mean? Like I want you to make the scene in my asshole with your tongue."
"Eat your ass," Chuck echoed as though he had just heard his death sentence pronounced.
"Eat my big, black ass," Afro X said bluntly. But now, there was no longer laughter in her voice. It was a dead serious voice. A challenging voice. If she was going to fuck this white man she wanted complete humiliation. If he refused, Chuck would be expelled from the club along with Mrs. Renwick. No member could refuse the legitimate, sexual request from another member. And the request from a female to have her ass tongued by her male swap was a most legitimate request.
When Chuck continued to remain silent, Afro X sneered. "What's the matter white boy. Ain't you never eaten a girl's ass before? "
In his brief sexual career, Chuck had indeed performed a mouth job on a girl's rectum. The girl had been Mrs. Renwick's pretty, young French maid Marie. But eating Marie's ass during the sixty-nine was a different piece of cake. Before Marie had positioned Chuck in the sixty-nine, she had taken a perfumed bubble bath. And to assure the sweetness of her ass, she had then sprayed it with an imported French perfume. The results had rocketed Chuck into a sexual orbit that made him blow out the biggest load of cock-cum in his entire life. Also, the color of Marie's ass was white. Despite his assertions to the contrary, he did have certain prejudices against black people. They were most unreasonable, and perhaps, he was willing to concede to himself, that Afro X had a legitimate bitch against the lily white Establishment. Still, Chuck couldn't help the way he had been raised. His old man, he now reasoned, had been a hypocrite and a bigot. But he couldn't help that now. And the notion of eating a black girl's unperfumed ass was clearly upsetting to him.
"I'm waiting white boy," Afro X said with her built-in sneer. "You gonna eat my ass, or do I report you to the club admissions committee?"
Chuck forced the words out of his mouth. "I didn't say I wouldn't go down on your ass. Just give me a minute to orient myself."
Afro shook her head. "We been waiting two hundred years for you whites to orient yourself to us blacks. We ain't waiting no more." Her voice rose angrily, demandingly. "Eat my ass right now, this minute, or else I'm reporting you as breaking the rules of this club."
Chuck sighed,-helplessly. "Okay. But are you going to spray a bit of perfume up your asshole? Most white girls do."
"But I ain't a white girl goddammit!" Anger shook the naked, black girl. Blood specked her eyeballs. "Can't you get that through your thick skull?"
Chuck stared back at the girl as though he was seeing her for the first time. Of course, she wasn't white. She was black. And she demanded to be accepted as black with all its uniqueness, with all the differences. Maybe that's what she was agitated about, Chuck thought. For years, white do-gooders wanted to relate to blacks as though black was really another shade of white. But it wasn't. All the girl was really asking was to recognize her blackness for what it was and accept or reject it. But don't pretend she's a white girl in black makeup. And that's why she wanted the anal treatment, Chuck now realized. He could fuck her and close his eyes while he pretended she was really white. But eating her ass would assure him that this was no white girl. She was black. All black. Take it, or leave it.
And now that he understood, or thought that he did, Chuck felt easier about the whole anal bit. He'd accept her black ass in the same way that he had accepted Marie's white ass. There will be differences. But then Marie and Afro were different girls from different cultures.
"Okay," Chuck said in a firm voice, "so I'll eat your black ass. Lay down and turn over. And prop the middle up with a few cushions so I can get at your ass better."
The white boy's voice sounded different, more poised, more self-confident. Now, it was Afro's turn to be surprised and a bit hesitant. "Look," she said and sounded less belligerent, "you don't have to go through with this. You can still back out and no one will say a word. Just leave the club."
Chuck shook his head. "Thanks. But no thanks. But it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to chicken out so you can keep up your belief that Whitey talks freedom but runs scared when it comes time to prove himself. You're black, sweetheart. I'm white. And viva the difference!"
The girl was still antagonistic. "Brave ain't you? We'll see how long that lasts. I prepared my ass for your tongue, honey-man. But I didn't perfume it like your white girl friend. I shit! That's right, darling. Shit! And you're gonna eat it." Her voice rose, sneeringly. "Still want to go through with it, free thinker man?"
Chuck paled. But he said through clenched teeth. "Yes. Goddammit yes! And before I get through with you, you'll be begging for more of my white tongue!"
"We'll see about that," she said. But now, Afro flattened out on the floor. And under her midriff, she stuffed several pillows to raise up her buttocks which were already quite curved and large.
Chuck dropped down behind her with his face hovering over the black buttocks of the girl. There wasn't a doubt, he now realized, that the differences between black and white girls also extended to the texture and shape of the actual ass cheek. He remembered the white, smooth, flawless and symmetrical curves that consisted of Marie's ass cheeks. The flesh of Afro's black ass was more porous, more like foam rubber. And the curves were much more pronounced. Marie's cheeks were held tightly together. In order to get at her asshole, Chuck had to pull them apart with his hands; almost pry them apart. Afro's cheeks just naturally were loose with a discernible cleft between them. In order to get at her rectum, Chuck had merely to drop his tongue between the hilly flesh. Also, Marie had a tuft of short rectal hairs encircling her anus. Afro's asshole hairs were extremely long, thicker with sharper points. They were, of course, blacker. And without prying Afro's cheeks apart, he could tell that the flesh in the bottom of the anal valley was the blackest he had ever seen.
All of these observations regarding the character of Afro's black ass were made in a space of time no longer than an eye blink. Chuck knew that he couldn't dawdle over his task of eating Afro's ass. She'd quickly accuse him of procrastination. And it was extremely important at this point to assure the girl that he had no qualms at all about running his tongue up her ass, despite its shitty condition.
Chuck slipped his arms around both cheeks as though he was going to make love to the girl's face. So far so good, he complimented himself. The texture of the black ass skin felt soft, warm and comforting. He lowered his lips onto the far side of one cheek. The instant contact between ass flesh and lip flesh shot volts of lust through him. He wondered how his kiss affected Afro. He heard a slight murmur but nothing more. It was difficult to determine whether that murmur was one of revulsion or acceptance. Then, he bit into a bit of the black ass skin and nibbled over a small area. When he looked carefully to assess the results, Chuck smiled with self-satisfaction. Millions of black goose pimples were now blistering the girl's buttocks. And those pimples, he knew, were raised by excited flushes that were racing through her body. Knowing that she was excited despite her antagonism to his skin made the job of eating her smelly ass a bit easier.
Chuck's overall plan of attacking the interior of Afro's ass with his tongue was quite simple. He started to kiss, nibble, tongue and suck on ass flesh as far removed from the cleavage as possible. Slowly, he'd work his tongue closer and closer to the cleft between the cheeks. Eventually, he'd plunge his tongue into the rear-end valley, and apply a lapping movement to the flesh. He was resigned about the shit. And he was hoping that by the time he got to the interior of her ass, he'd be accustomed to the odor.
But Afro scattered his plans to the winds. Whimpering with desire, she flapped the cheeks of her ass apart as though they were the wings of a giant black bird, then she shoved backwards. Chuck's face became firmly wedged between Afro's cheeks. As his face dropped in to the bottom of the valley, Afro contracted the ass muscles and Chuck was literally imprisoned. And Afro's boast that she had prepared herself by first defecating had not been an idle threat. There was, indeed, a thin, watery layer of shit all along the floor of the valley.
At first, Chuck's lily white sensibilities were outraged. His stern, prophet-like father had always pounded into his head the difference between right and wrong. Right was right, and wrong was wrong. There were no ifs, buts, or rationalizations about that lesson. Also, clean was clean, and dirty was dirty. No arguments. Now, the smell of Afro's ass was dirty. This was his immediate and instinctive response which pounded throughout his entire being along with his racing blood. But before his mentality was completely shattered by the smell, Chuck snatched out desperately for new meanings, new responses, new understandings. And bit by bit, slowly and agonizingly, this new intelligence reached him in time to partially calm his nerves which were threatening to heave up his stomach.
Basically, this new intelligence informed him, Afro was a clean girl. And this smell about her ass was a natural smell. It was part of her being and therefore just as much an object for him to love as any other part. It would be more desirable if the smell wasn't noticeable. But since it was, it was up to him to accept it as part of the girl he was obliged to fuck. And fucking didn't involve the mere insertion of penis into vagina. It meant acceptance of the entire body and being of the partner.
Chuck felt the cheeks of his face moisten from the odoriferous secretions from Afro's rectal chamber. But the longer his head remained buried within the rear end tunnel, the less objectionable the smell grew. In fact, his objections diminished to a point where he could take no offense at all. And then, as he commenced to suck, his response to the odor took a sharp turn in the opposite direction. The odor became exciting to him. And as it grew in excitement to his senses, his tongue worked more vigorously up and down the cleavage of the black girl's ass.
Chuck wasn't the only one whose mind and sensibilities were undergoing radical changes. As Chuck's tongue dug into the girl's asshole, as his teeth nibbled lovingly on the buttock flesh, as he inhaled deeply as though the odor was sweet smelling and highly desirous, Afro couldn't help but feel that, at long last, she had found herself a real lover. And all quite by chance. She had been fucked and sucked by many a black man. But inwardly, she had found them wanting. She had never felt fulfilled by a black man's prick or tongue. Perhaps, there was still too much hate in her black lovers; self hate which was reflected in their performance as fuckers. Perhaps this was the reason she had despised white men with such a fury. She blamed them for making her black warriors such lousy lovers. Many times, Afro had heard other girls, especially white girls, talking about the many orgasms they had experienced. Some spoke in ecstatic terms about hitting-that always sought after Big Orgasm. The Big O. Afro had been ashamed to admit that not once had she ever experienced one orgasm. She didn't know what it was like to really blow her cunt. With her black lovers, she had faked it. It was easy to fool a man. His ego was so supersensitive about such matters that he'd believe anything the girl told him. Afterwards however, Afro knew she wasn't really fooling anybody but herself. She had never known true fulfillment as a woman. And this, she had always blamed on Whitey. Now, a white boy was eating her ass, and if she wasn't mistaken, all systems within her body were attuned towards an orgasm. The vaginal walls were fluctuating in a way that was completely alien to her. Her heart was pounding louder than she had ever heard it before, and she could feel the hot blood pumping into the organs of her cunt.
Afro had clamped her jaws tight to prevent herself from uttering the slightest sound that might reflect encouragement or excitement caused by her white asshole tonguer. But now her jaws refused to remain closed. They flew apart and strange whimpering, delighted cries flushed through her lips. And she was not able to restrain the words that instinctively flowed out.
"Oh darling white ass eater," she sobbed. "I love it. I love the way your tongue feels up my ass. Eat it, baby. Suck it. Bite it up and chew it out. But please white asshole lover, please keep your tongue working up my ass!"
And now, to demonstrate her complete acceptance of the boy she had recently derided as Whitey, she reached back, grabbed hold of his hand, and pulled it over her hairy cunt.
"Ahhh darling, sweetheart, cunt robber, white asshole bandit, that feels good. Soooo good." And to emphasize this feeling of goodness, she pulled Chuck's hand back and forth over her now gaping black cunt. As Chuck continued to lap at Afro's ass, his hand felt a strange protrusion at the upper end of the organ. This he was able to recognize as her expanded clitoris. And now, as he sucked back and forth, he rubbed the black clitter cock back and forth in perfect synchronization with his tongue.
Afro's innards became a turmoil, a raging fire of lust as a white hand manipulated her cunt, and white tongue wiped her ass. The detonation within the girl that these twin triggers unleashed shook her from head to toe. And for the first time in her entire life, the young black girl experienced a true orgasm.
"Oh LORD. What's happening?" she screamed aloud to the ceiling. As the walls of her vagina spasmed, they flung out torrents of hot cuntal secretions. "JEE-zis," she sobbed as she forced out more streaming effluents. "I'm blowing. BLOW-eeeng."
What did a black girl's cuntal dew taste like? Chuck quickly pulled his face out from between the cheeks of her ass, raised up the buttocks and slipped his tongue under her body and over her cunt. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed every drop of the fluid as possible. Smacking and gulping noisily at the black cuntal faucet, Chuck savored every drop. Honey sweet, he decided. This black girl's cunt-cum tasted sweeter than honey. By the time he finished his sucking, the ebony colored cunt hairs were drenched with a mixture of his saliva and her cunt flow.
Finally, the well ran dry, and Chuck pulled his face away from the cunt. The girl rolled over to look into the face of her lover for the very first time. She was going to look into the face of a man. Not a black man. Not a white man. But a man who was her lover. A man who, for the first time in her life, made her hit the Big O. This had to be a man among men.
Now, Afro beamed happily at the white boy. "Darling," she cooed and threw her arms around him; her strong, black arms encircled his white body. "Sweetheart, lover, big prick man. Oh, but your tongue did things to me no man has ever been able to do before. You got it, baby. You got it good."
Chuck kissed the thick, shapely lips of his new sweetheart. "Got what, honey?" he asked.
"Soul," Afro exclaimed. "You got soul but good. That's how come I can relate to you, white baby cock man. That's how come you blew my cunt like it's never been blown before."
"I got something else black cunt of my heart," Chuck said.
"What else you got white prick of my cunt?" Afro asked.
Chuck took Afro's hand and guided down to his dangerously pulsating prick. "A hard on," he said. "I've got to blow black baby tongue lover."
"Sure baby, sure," Afro said with sympathy and understanding. "But after that masterful tonguing you give me, my cunt's too raw and sore to fuck."
Chuck nodded. A girl who just hit the Big O for the very first time in her life was certainly in no condition to handle the kind of hard, driving fuck he had to throw. "There are a number of other ways to give me relief," he said.
"Just name it soul man. Want me to eat it? I can blow a prick real good. Or you want me to jack you off with my hand. That can be a real thriller the way I do it." She looked slyly at her white sweetheart. "There's one other way, my white darling asshole."
Chuck smiled. He understood. And he understood, too, that the third way was her preference by far. "In the asshole," Chuck said. "I pump a fuck into your asshole."
The girl licked her lips and smiled dreamily. "Hmmmmm," she sighed. "But a prick inside my asshole would feel real good lover cock. Real sweet and good."
"Asshole fuck it is," Chuck said raising up on his knees.
"You don't mind the smell now, do you?" the girl asked with a knowing smile.
The mere mention of Afro's rectal odor now made Chuck even more excited, and he had to clench his fists tight to prevent a premature ejaculation. "You know I love the smell of your black ass," Chuck said in a strangled voice. "I can hardly wait. Give me your hole, baby. Give me your precious black asshole to screw."
"You got it, white cock man," Afro replied, enthusiastically. Quickly, she positioned herself on her knees and elbows; the classic position of the dog-style fuck. But Chuck was going to aim his red and stiffened bone at the rectal cavity. This particular hole had been well moistened by his mouth. The walls of the rectal tube had therefore been stretched by all the saliva and natural rectal secretions unleashed during the suck.
Chuck grasped both cheeks of Afro's black ass. And as he did, he marvelled at the way they curved out so beautifully. For some reason, a black female was much better endowed with a cushiony ass than a white woman. There was much more flesh which curved and literally flowed out from the girl's waist.
With each one of his claw-like hands clutching ass, Chuck lunged forward. The cockhead slid through the cheeks and drove past the long, wiry rectal hairs that guarded the entrance to the rear-end hole. The hole opened like the mouth of a fish lunging for bait. The next thing Chuck knew, or felt was the feel of his penile shaft burrowing down deep into the rear-end love parlor. The rectal walls of the black girl were studded with nerve endings. As the stiff cock meat brushed past these nerve endings, all sorts of lustful sensations were poured throughout the entire body of the kneeling girl.
Afro looked agitatedly over her shoulder. "Fuck my asshole, baby," she urged as though her life depended on it. "Pump me an asshole fuck that'll make me blow all over again. Hurry fucker man. HURRY," and instinctively, she reached back and grabbed hold of Chuck's soft nuts with her strong fingers. With her remaining free hand, she began to strum on her clit again.
Chuck lunged forward with his entire strength. The entire rod became encased within the confines of the rectal tube. Then, bracing himself against the girl's big ass, he pulled it part way out again. This in and out movement he continued and with every stroke, thus increasing the tempo of the fuck.
"That's right," Afro called out, encouragingly. "Bugger my bum good, white prick daddy. Bugger my asshole like it's never been fucked before."
The tight grip of the rectal walls created a heated friction which quickly triggered a number of responses within Chuck's now agitated body. First, the temperature of his body rose dramatically and reached a dangerously high level. This increased body heat brought the previously dormant seminal fluids to a boil. Once they started to boil they were flung out of the testicles and into the base of the penile shaft. And once in the shaft, there was nothing to impede the flow of raging boiling cock cream. The meat of the shaft expanded even further during this push towards the exit. Then, the cockhead bulged out and became even more purply colored.
Lust baked words cycloned up through Chuck's throat. But they became garbled and left his lips in an unintelligible whine. What he was trying to say was that his prick was exploding.
But Afro didn't need any verbal communication about this fact. She felt the hot fusillage of cock-cum spatter into the rear-end valley and make it even moister. The rectal well was quickly filled with cream which then overflowed and clawed down her black ass.
Afro's fingers worked away speedily over her clitter cock until once again, love dew spun out of the vaginal tube. This time, it wasn't the Big O but still, it was a relieving and divinely wonderful sensation. When her cunt stopped leaking the residue of love, the black frame of the girl collapsed. Chuck quickly pulled his wilted penis out from the rectal hole, and he too, fell back.
Afro swept up Chuck into her strong arms. "Oh my darling white fucker man, I'll never let you go now. Never, never, never. You belong to me. We're one. That prick and tongue of yours has got to service me every ' blessed day. No arguments," she said firmly. "No arguments!"
But Chuck knew that this was not possible. He was a swap club stud. For hire to the highest bidder. That was his role for the time being. He had no alternative.
"Never let you go," Afro kept repeating.
Chuck knew he was in for trouble.
CHAPTER FIVE
"I'm rather curious," Mrs. Renwick said to Deacon Dick as the swap couple finally found a vacant couch to consummate their lust for white and black meat.
Deacon Dick bowed his head in his courtly way. "Pray tell me the nature of your curiosity. If I can relieve it, I shall do so Madam."
"I'm seventy years old," Mrs. Renwick confessed.
Deacon looked surprised. "You don't look a day over sixty dear lady. But age has really little to do with our lust."
"I'd like to think so," the woman replied. "But I prefer to face reality. A middle-aged man like yourself...."
"I'm fifty-two," the Deacon informed her.
Mrs. Renwick smiled, pleased at his honesty. "As I was saying, a middle-aged man like yourself prefers young cunt. They think it will rub off on them and make them young, too."
"A snare and a delusion," Deacon guffawed. "Yes, I know many a middle-aged man loses the ability to get a hard on. Or if he does get a hard on, it ain't too stiff. Then, he gets to thinking about young pussy and how good it would taste and how stiff it could make his cock." He shook his head. "That's all so much bullshit. Besides," he confessed, "I've always leaned toward women who are on the old side."
"A mother complex?" Mrs. Renwick asked.
Deacon Dick shook his head. "No," he said, slowly. "I don't think so." And then, he made a decision. "I'll tell you what happened to me when I was a wee one. You decide if I've got a mother complex."
Mrs. Renwick waggled a finger at him as though he was a naughty, little boy. "Screwed an old lady when you were a tot? Little monkey."
Deacon motioned to the couch. They both sat down. Mrs. Renwick leaned her head on her soon-to-be black lover's shoulders. Deacon dropped one of his big, black hands between her legs and started to gently rub her pussy.
"Feels good, Deacon dear," Mrs. Renwick sighed as she watched the blunt, black fingers slide back and forth over her heating box. "But before you give me some tongue, tell me about the naughty, old lady who fucked you when you were just a tot." She looked serious. "It could help me understand how to fuck you better once we get heated up."
Deacon Dick leaned back on the couch. His eyes rolled back. The present blurred and became the past. "I couldn't have been more than twelve years old," he began. "My mom was a domestic in a rich man's house. We lived in the servant's quarters. Mom told me I was to never leave the servant's quarters and roam about the big house where the rich master and his wife lived. But I was a mischie-vious kid, full of beans, piss and vinegar, and I just naturally disobeyed out of sheer spunk and curiosity. What went on in the house where the old white master and his old white wife lived?
"One night after my mom was snorning up a storm, I slipped outa bed and sneaked over into the master's side of the house. It was late at night and everyone was asleep.
I roamed around and had a great time. Then, I passed a room where I heard voices. It turned out to be the bedroom of the old white boss. I slid the door open just a cunt hair and peeked in. What I saw had an effect on me for the rest of my life I can't never forget it."
"Were they engaged in intercourse?" Mrs. Renwick asked.
"They were trying to fuck, Deacon remembered. "But the old white boss couldn't make the grade. He must have been a man in his middle sixties at the time. His wife would be in her late fifties. They were both on top of the bed. And both were naked. Believe you me, my kid eyes bugged out like the springs were broken. I'd never seen naked white people before. And this was the first time I'd ever seen a naked woman, black or white. The boss' wife wasn't bad looking except that she was old. To a kid of twelve, she looked like a hundred years old. Mrs. White Boss was on the heavy side with big titties, and a big ass. Her legs were thick but shapely. And she had a roll around her belly. There was plenty of light in the room for me to get a good, clear look at her cunt. I'll never forget. There was a lot of brownish colored hairs around a big gash that ran up from between her legs. And that slit was opened wide. She was on her back with her legs apart.
"I can still remember her saying, 'Try and fuck me, dear. I just need to be serviced tonight. I've been panting for a fuck for a month," Old White Boss whined, 'But I tried to get a hard on for you, honey. It just won't get up high or stiff enough to do us any good."
"Mrs. White Boss began to look sore. 'What am I supposed to do? Jack-off again? That don't relieve the situation."
"The old man patted her. 'I'll be all right, dearest. Just be patient with me."
"'Jesszis,' his wife spat at him. 'You've been saying that for over a year. I have to be fucked! Do you hear me? Fucked!'
"'I'll think of something, dear. Please don't be angry with me,' old White Boss pleaded. From the look of his caved chest, bony frame, and shrivelled up prick, I'd say that he never was ever going to get it up, ever again.
"That whole scene gave me an idea. I was kind of old for my age," Deacon reminisced.
Mrs. Renwick squeezed his cock which began to erect again. "Deacon Dick to the rescue," she. said, teasingly, "Did you screw the old lady?"
"That's what I had in mind," Deacon admitted. "Why not? If I screwed her and she gave me money I'd have a few coins in my pockets like the other kids. Mom never gave me any money on account she never had any to give me. Old White Boss paid miserable wages. Screwing his wife for money would be one way of getting back at him. As a kid, I was kind of resentful to white folks. Maybe that's why my daughter takes after me."
Mrs. Renwick looked puzzled. "But how did a twelve-year-old little colored boy seduce a white woman in her fifties? A rich, white woman for whom your mother worked as a domestic?"
Deacon chuckled. "Poor colored kids from the ghetto don't have no money, no education or nothing like the white folks kids do. But we got plenty of natural savvy, cunning, or shrewdness. Whatever you want to call it. I knew the old white boss lady needed a fuck. At twelve, I had already been fucking little colored girls. And they all said I was the greatest fucker that ever came down the pike. The problem was to convince white boss lady that I could service her good."
Mrs. Renwick nodded. "Nature has a way of compensating. It equipped you with the tools to make your way." Squeezing Deacon Dick's cock again, she smiled, mischievously. "Or should I say the tool to do the job?"
Deacon looked down at the white, shapely fingers encircled around the black penile shaft. He thought a moment. "Yes," he agreed. "Nature done give me this tool, and I made the best of it. But how was I gonna convince old white boss lady I could do her good? She was real uppity, the kind that thinks their shit don't stink. And she had a way of referring to the black help as 'those niggers.' It was gonna do me good in more ways than one to ream out her high-tone, white cunt with my black, nigger cock."
"I hope you made her beg for it," Mrs. Renwick sniffed.
"I played it cool," Deacon informed her. "The first chance I got was when mom was too busy to carry the breakfast tray into the old lady's bedroom. She always ate breakfast in bed, and my mom always carried the tray. That morning mom made me carry in the tray. The old lady was propped up in bed with a lot of cushions behind her. She was wearing a big robe, and when I came into her bedroom, she looked real sore.
"'Where's your mother?' she asked in her snooty voice. 'Too lazy to carry in my breakfast?'
"I told her she had an extra big wash, and had asked me to carry in the tray. 'Wait until I'm through,' she ordered 'Don't want you tracking in dirt."
"As the old, white lady starts to eat, I just stands ther. I concentrated real hard and thought of a girl I had fucked the night before. She had an ass that swivelled so fast I blew my nuts in about two seconds. The thought of that moving ass pulled up my cock. The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the old lady with a big, hard on. My pants shot up until it looked like a circus tent. I used to wear those short, stove pipe pants, and they were real tight. With a bone on, you could see how long the rod was and the shape of the head.
"When the old lady saw me standing in front of her with a bone on, her eyes grew round as full moons. She almost choked on her breakfast. She kept on eating but those staring eyes never left the vicinity of my crotch. I just pretended that nothing happened. Then, she must have got the idea I got a bone on because I was attracted to her. A smile pulled her normally tight, severe looking lips back. She warmed up a bit.
"'No sense you standing there and getting tired, young man.' She patted the mattress alongside of her. 'Sit down here until I finish."
"I knew something was going to happen. I sat down as close to her as I could get. And I sat in a way where she could get a real eyeful of my cock sticking up and trying to push through my pants. The sight of that bulge really tantalized her.
"After she got through eating, she put the tray down on the floor on the other side of the bed. Then, one hand dropped over my bulging prick. She made it look like an accident. But I saw the look in her eyes when she made contact. And she didn't take away her hand. 'Talk to me for a while, young man,' she said. 'I want to get to know all the little nigger children on my husband's estate.' As she spoke, her fingers curled tighter around my bone, and I had real trouble trying to stop me from blowing in my pants.
"Still, I had enough savvy to work the situation for all it was worth. I kept squirming around in an up and down motion which kind of resembled fucking action. The old lady started to have trouble with her breathing. It had probably been years since she had been so close to an erected prick. I might have been only twelve years old but that prick was better than anything her husband was giving her.
"I kept talking to her and she kept talking to me. All the while, a little game was going on. I was squirming in a fucking up and down motion. She was trying to undo the buttons of my fly. She got one open, and the another. Finally, all my buttons were open. It was up to her to take the initiative and take out my prick. It was her game now. All the way. She kept craning her neck down to get a good look at my cock. But it was still well hidden inside my pants. Finally, she got impatient. She stuck her fingers inside and yanked out the big, black cock bone.
"'Why what's this?' she asked and looked real serious.
"'My fuck stick,' I replied, matter-of-factly.
"The old bag tightened her fingers around the bone rod. Then, she closed her eyes like she was in heaven. 'Feels so good,' she sighed. 'So warm. So full of life.' Then, she opened her eyes. 'What do you do with this stick?' she asked.
"'A hard fuck stick,' I informed her, 'is only good for one thing. And that's to fuck with."
"The old gal's fingertips spidered up the shaft, and then danced down again. She was having a ball just stroking it. But she wanted more. A lot more. 'I don't think I know what you mean,' she said with a straight face. 'Is this fuck thing a game you darky children play?'
"'Yes ma'am,' I replied very politely. 'And it's so much fun."
"Still looking very serious, she asked, 'Would you show me how you play it? I want to get to know my darky servants better. And understand them better."
"I played it cool. She was hot for a fuck. But I was gonna make her sweat up her cunt first. 'Don't think you'd want to play the fuck game with me,' I informed her. 'First of all, the rules of the game don't permit no clothes. Secondly, I just play it with other girls my own age."
"A couple of the old bag's fingers dropped over my nuts and she began to jiggle them up and down. 'You can take all your clothes off here, sweet, black, fuck stick child,' she said. She was really aching for a cunt drilling. 'And we can play let's pretend. I'll pretend I'm a little, black girl of your age. Now, tell me what to do."
"From that moment on, I knew I was in charge of the fuck. She'd do anything to get a taste of my prick. 'Take off your clothes,' I ordered. And I began to shed my clothes, too. The old gal pulled off her nightgown, and my eyes took their turn to bulge out like full moons. I'd never seen a naked, white person before. She had these mountainous tits that were even bigger than the ones on my mom. And mom was hung like all colored mammys. The blankets were pulled up to her waist, and I couldn't see the rest of her.
"Boldly, I reached over, took hold of her blanket and flung it on the floor. 'We don't play the fuck game under blankets,' I told her in an imperious sort of way. I was in charge now, and she knew it.
"'Excuse me little fuck child,' she said. 'I didn't know. Tell your white momma what to do.' And all the time she spoke, her eyes rolled around over my naked, black, kid's body. My skin was hairless then except for the patch of heavy nigger hair around my cock bone. The cheeks of my little ass jutted out like black, half melons. And my balls hung way down, soft and cuddly like. That old white boss lady was literally fucking me with her eyes. And my prick started to throb even more wildly.
"To do the old lady justice, she wasn't bad looking in the nude herself. Her tits looked like enormous air balloons and just as soft. Her belly was on the fat side but the kind of fat I'd like to lay on. Now, I got a chance to get a real close-up look at her cunt and all the brownish hairs around it. The cunt lips were slightly open which told me she was aching for cock. And for the first time in my life, I found myself staring at a close-up of a mature woman's she-cock. The little, black girls I was fucking hardly had one developed as yet. And fucking them under the porch never did give me a chance to get a good look at their cunt equipment. Now, I was really feasting my eyes on a cunt box that belonged to a full grown woman.
"'You got a fuck stick too,' I observed, and I reached over to touch it.
"A strange sound gurgled through her lips. 'Suck it,' she hissed. 'Suck it, suck it, suck it.' And she grabbed hold of my face and pushed it down on top of her cunt.
"The next thing I knew a bunch of cunt juice was splashing up into my face. That old bag's cunt was already fartin' out a bunch of orgasms. But little ones. Just buildups to something really grand. Something she hadn't felt for many years. And with this knowledge in mind, I opened my mouth and really bit down on her big, white, old female cock. The instant she felt my big, thick, nigger lips munching on her cock, she let out a howl like a bitch in heat.
"'Little, black fuck sticker boy,' she shrieked. 'Eat your mommy. Lap your big, white mommy's cunt.' With my tongue over her pussy, she forgot to be refined and high tone. She just bust loose with the same kind of dirty talk we black kids use when we gets fucked.
"And that dirty talk from the old white man's boss lady really turned me on. I not only ate her prick, and sucked her cunt, I dropped my tongue even lower and dipped it into her asshole. And while I was sucking, she kept throwing her legs apart and closing them so tight, her thighs pressed against my rapidly moistening face. After a very short period of time, her belly rose up like she was pregnant, and a river of cunt juice came streaming into my mouth.
"Then, I looked up at her. The cheeks were red as the setting sun. In fact, her whole face was glowing. Her eyes were still closed as though she was reliving every precious moment of that suck and blow. And she kept breathing so hard, her tits and belly rose and fell like waves on a stormy sea.
"While she was ruminating about my mouth job, I pulled my face out from between her legs, rose up on my knees and plunged my long, black prick into her still gaping cunt. Her eyes popped open and she looked up at me with surprise, and a little horror. Having me suck her off was one thing. But getting a nigger prick inside of her was something else again. She had never really intended to let me fuck her. She had been after a mouth job from the very beginning.
"When she realized I had taken the liberty to fill her cunt tunnel with my fuck stick, she got real sore. 'Impudent little nigger boy,' she berated me. 'Get off this instant. I've already had my blow. You may leave."
"But I had no intention of leaving until I cracked my nuts. 'Sorry white boss lady,' I replied, but we're still playing our little fuck game. Remember?'
"'Get off me!' she howled.
"Sure, I was scared. But at that moment, I could no more take my prick out of that hot cunt box than fly to the moon. Looking at myself in a wall mirror got me even more excited. There I was, a little, black kid on top of a naked, white woman in her late fifties. My face was almost buried between those great balloon-like boobies, and my little, black ass was mounted between her legs. It made me excited and all the more determined to finish the fuck.
"'Scream your head off,' I hissed through clenched teeth. 'You're gonna get fucked by a little, nigger kid, like it or. not,' and I grabbed hold of her huge, cheeky ass, and commenced to pump my prick in and out of the cunt.
"After the first few pumps, I felt the in-sides of her cunt box change. It got much hotter, much wetter, and those walls around the cock shaft started vibrating and flapping like clothes out to dry on a windy day. For the first few seconds, old white boss lady's mouth flew open. But she didn't say anything. Her face just looked kind of blank. Then, when her cunt started heating up, and she realized she could make a real, big blow out of this fuck, she sure changed her tune. Became all loving and fucky.
"A big, dreamy smile pulled her lips back. At first the words flowed out of her mouth so low I could hardly hear them. Then, all of a sudden, it was like pulling a plug from a barrel and letting everything drop out. 'Throw that nigger prick in me sweet, black ass. Oh, sweet, sweet, colored cock, lay it in me. That's right, that's right. Lay it in me with that nigger fuck. NIGGER FUCK,' she screamed so loud I was afraid the white boss man would come running into the room.
"But I just kept pounding away at her cunt. In the mirror, I could see myself humping up and down that layer of white blubber as though I was a cork on choppy waters. And when I saw her eyes roll out like skinned grapes, I knew something big was gonna happen. And it did. Her belly got big again like she was knocked up, and I felt a flow of hot liquid splashing out of her cunt and all over my belly. That rising gut of hers got so big, it tossed me up in the air so high my fuck stick lost contact with her pussy. That's when I started to blow out my nuts. Cock cream shot out the head of my cock like it was a ray gun. The gooey stuff spattered over everything; up the white lady's belly, her throat, her face and into her hair. And when I fell back onto her body, my softening prick was still squirting cream-cum.
"But that old, white, boss lady wasn't sore at me. No ma'am. Just the contrary. She lay back with her eyes shining, and her mouth fixed into what seemed to be a permanent smile. I had toppled off her body. And she reached down and held the lips of her cunt open to let the last remaining drops trickle out of the love well. She struggled to speak. But at first, the words had difficulty coming up and taking shape.
"Finally, she announced with that dreamy smile of hers, 'I blew out the biggest load of cunt dew in my whole life. It was terrific. Nothing like that ever happened. I could take a fuck like that all day and all night'
"She took hold of my hand. 'Darling, little, nigger fuck stick boy, from now on, you're going to fuck your white mommy every day.' She thought a moment, and hastily added. 'And I'll want you to eat my cunt every night just before I go to bed. It'll make me sleep better."
"'What about the white boss man?' I asked.
"'I'll think of a way,' she said with a troubled look.
"But the second night I went in to her room to suck her off, the old white boss man caught me with his wife. The old fart fired my mom and kicked my ass outa his home."
Deacon's face was stiff, wreathed in a warm smile. "Still, I'll never forget that old white boss lady. She was the first grown-up I ever sucked off, or fucked. Naturally, there's no forgetting such an experience. And whenever I have to jack-off, I just naturally think of old boss lady's big titties and brown-haired cunt. It makes me blow right away."
Mrs. Renwick sighed. "What a beautiful story. You have a soft spot in your heart for a white woman. And I have a warm, and loving spot in my heart for little Dink, the black schoolboy who treated my cunt with such passion."
Deacon nodded. "Maybe that's why I felt kinda drawn to you the minute you walked up and wanted to swap."
"And I to you," Mrs. Renwick replied as she patted the big, black nuts that hung so expectently between Deacon's legs. That love pat on his balls stirred the man out of the past to the immediate present. This adorable, seventy-year-old white woman of high character and impressive social standing required treatment from his humble but able black prick.
"How do you want it?" Deacon asked returning the love pat over Mrs. Ren-wick's heating cunt.
Mrs. Renwick stared down at Deacon's prick as though she expected the answer to come from the very much alive but mute piece of hard cock flesh. As a matter-of-fact, she did expect the answer to come from Deacon's long, black appendage. "Why not let him decide for us," she said and sounded very serious. "Let him call the tune of our fuck dance."
"But he can't talk," Deacon said, puzzled. "He can fuck, he can blow. But he can't talk."
"You're wrong, darling," Mrs. Renwick corrected. "Close your eyes, relax your muscles, let the message of your cock flow through your vitals. By and by, you'll sense his communication. Just open your heart and mind to the glories of your cock."
Deacon looked disturbed. Was this refined looking woman daft? "I just don't understand Miz Renwick. You got me kinda confused. My prick never talked to me in my whole life."
"Ah but it has," Mrs. Renwick persisted. "Think, young man. Think. Hasn't he communicated many messages to you?"
Deacon passed a hand over his bald head. "He tells me when he wants to piss."
Mrs. Renwick nodded. "Go on."
Deacon thought a moment. "He tells me when he wants to fuck." But he shook his head. "He don't tell me how he wants to .fuck."
"But he can, darling," Mrs. Renwick kept on insisting. "You've never listened to him that intently."
Deacon still wasn't convinced. "How do I go about listening to my cock, intently?"
Mrs. Renwick instructed Deacon to lean his head comfortably on her shoulders. Then, she got him to relax, completely. "Let all the bad thoughts flow out of you," Mrs. Renwick said. "And let all the good thoughts flow in." As she spoke, she gently stroked Deacon's aroused bone. "Can you hear him?" she asked in a low whisper of a voice.
"Hears something," Deacon said, dreamily. "Something's trying to get through."
The woman nodded. "Of course, I have all the faith in the world in this piece of beautiful, black meat." As her fingertips drummed softly up and down the shaft, she said, "Please, pay close attention to what this gorgeous joy stick is trying to tell you."
Deacon screwed his eyes tight as he tried to read and understand the communication of his senses that charged up from his genitals. "Comin' through," he said, triumphantly. "Comin' all the way through."
Mrs. Renwick tensed. She tried to restrain her rising excitement. "Yes, yes," she bubbled. "What does he say? What is he telling you?"
Deacon raised a hand for silence. "I'm tuned in and turned on," he said but not to Mrs. Renwick. He appeared to be talking to the voice or voices of his inner lust;. "Yeah," he kept nodding. "I got it, I got it."
Mrs. Renwick simply couldn't control her excitement. "What have you got? What have you got?"
When Deacon opened his eyes and looked around him, his face was bathed in sweat and his hands were trembling. "Jeezis H. Keerist," he whistled, "what an experience." He shook his head. "Never thought it could happen. But it did. My cock talked to me, my cock talked to me."
"But what did he say?" Mrs. Renwick demanded in a voice that shook Deacon out of his reverie about his talented cock.
The black man squeezed Mrs. Renwick's hands. "That prick of mine done told me how he wants it all right. You were right all along, little, white, darling, white cunt lady."
"How? How?" the woman kept asking as though she was demented. "How does your cock want us to fuck?"
"Upside down," Deacon said as though he was still incredulous. "Upside down."
"No it ain't," Deacon snapped, a bit perturbed that he was being doubted. "Ain't impossible at all."
Mrs. Renwick patted the black man's hand. "Simmer down, dear. Did your cock communicate with you by a series of images? Is that the way he described his wants?"
Deacon nodded. "That's exactly the way he painted his picture for me. I could see the whole thing up there in my head."
Mrs. Renwick was now the epitome of patience despite her inner turmoil. "Describe the image that was painted in your head by your cock."
Deacon closed his eyes again. "It's still there. So clear. So life-like. I say it can be done."
"An upside down fuck?" Mrs. Renwick pressed.
"Not fuck," Deacon corrected. "Suck. An upside down suck."
Mrs. Renwick was beginning to comprehend. "A sixty-nine job," she said as though she was an expert on such a position.
Deacon looked surprised at her know-ledgeability in this field of oral endeavors. But he half shook his head. "Not exactly."
"It is, or it isn't," Mrs. Renwick said, her impatience returning.
Deacon explained. "Not cut and dried as all that," he said. And he explained. The classic position of the sixty-nine was for both partners to arrange themselves in a reclining manner on either the floor or on a bed. The woman's ass and cunt were placed directly before the face and tongue of the man. The woman's mouth was positioned directly over the stiffened prick. But the upside down suck was slightly different.
"How different?" Mrs. Renwick sounded enthusiastic for a chance to display her long hidden desires for oral play. "You're still going to get a mouthful of my cunt, and ass. And I'm going to munch on that delicious, black peter of yours."
"True," Deacon nodded. "But instead of lying down for the suck, I keep sitting in this chair. You have to get in an upside down position."
"Come again?" Mrs. Renwick blinked in puzzlement.
Deacon carefully explained. He'd remain in the chair. Mrs. Renwick would have to position herself in an upside down position. Her head would be placed between his legs and over his cock. Her legs would be scissored around his neck. Her cunt would be in his face. Hence, the terminology of the "upside down suck."
The elderly woman leaped to her feet. "I hope I don't get dizzy with all the blood rushing to my head. But a suck is a suck.
And if that's what I have to do, I'm all for it."
"I admires your spirit," was all that Deacon could say. She was going to have the more uncomfortable position of the two. Her head would be down and her legs up. Blood would be rushing to her head. But that could mean a more electrifying suck. And the thought of the energetic mouth of a high society white woman wrapped around his penis made it throb more violently than ever. "Let's upside down," he said and held out his arms.
Mrs. Renwick displayed a surprising amount of energy and enterprise to correctly position herself for the upside downer. Her head jackknifed downwards, and for a moment, she stood on her hands with her legs straight up in the air. Then, she let her entire body fall backwards until her legs bent at the knees around the colored man's shoulders. Her cunt was squashed into his face. Her mouth was positioned directly over his cock. She was, in fact, upside down. And now, that all conditions had been met, the mouths of black man and white woman went to immediate work on each other's genitals.
Since Mrs. Renwick's cunt was in an upside down position, Deacon had a bit of trouble at first in orienting himself. He was used to seeing cunt either reclining or in an upright position. Now, everything was completely reversed. The clitoris on the woman was at the opposite end of the slit. Even the cuntal hairs didn't look right. But rapidly, the man adjusted himself to this new set of circumstances. And he was eating away with a voracious appetite for cunt. Indeed, the Deacon had a perpetual appetite for the female pussy and didn't make any difference if the object of his oral attentions was old, young, or in the middle of the age span. His lips, thick, negroid lips, and tender gums went into play. Deacon had no teeth. But his cunt educated gums more than compensated for the loss of his molars and his inability to nibble at certain, tender parts of a cunt that required nibbling.
Mrs. Renwick hadn't sucked on a cock for many, many years. Her late and prudish husband had spurned all of her oral advances. Frustrated, she was compelled to merely fantasize mouthing stiff cocks while she masturbated in private. Afterwards, she had always felt secretly ashamed about her solitary pursuits. Later, her shame gave way to resentment. Now, at long last, after years of silent torment, she had a prick to eat. A black prick. Memories of her long ago, childhood, black boy lover came flooding back to her.
Mrs. Renwick seized Deacon's rigid penile shaft between both hands. "Oh Dink," she moaned, "at long last I've got you again," and without another word her vibrating tongue massaged the stretched taut skin of the black peter.
The contact of the woman's mouth over his cock meat was so electrifying that Deacon pulled his mouth off her cunt for just a moment, and let out a muffled scream. The scream was muffled because he was unable to remove his mouth from the cunt for more than a fraction of an inch. Behind him was the head of his chair. And before him, Mrs. Renwick was able to push her cunt towards him. Thus, the scream became "muffled in his throat as hairs and tender cunt meat as well as vaginal juices slapped into his face, again.
The swap team fell silent as their mouths gluttonized each other's genitals. Their lips, tongue, teeth and gums worked with a savage abandon. Nothing else in the entire world mattered except satiating themselves with cock and cunt. Their round, fixed, crazy looking eyes could see nothing except hairs, cock or cunt. Their mouths tasted nothing but cock or cunt. They were determined to blow each other. And the lust that drove their frenetic mouth and tongues onward was not unselfish. Each had to swallow the other's genital juices. They were convinced the taste of these juices would give them relief.
The movement of Mrs. Renwick's mouth became similar to that of a runaway elevator. Up and down it raced without a single pause. Deacon's tongue lapped back and forth like the precise movement of a clock. Finally, Mrs. Renwick's entire body stiffened, and for the first time her mouth became still, frozen, unable to move a fraction. Inside her, something had burst. The restraints of fifty years. She felt the movement within her of fluids like a river in flood. In a split section a gusher would pour out of the cuntal slit.
And at that precise moment, the heat of meat triggered off an explosion within Deacon's black body. His softer than soft testicles fluttered involuntarily. Superheated seminal juices within them raged into the penile shaft and raced towards the exit at the cockhead. He, too, froze, became immobile, incapable of thought or action.
Actually, there was no need for either Mrs. Renwick, or Deacon to voluntarily move. Everything was moving inside them and in an involuntary way. They had no control over such movement. And didn't want any. They wanted only the relief that such movement could assure them. And so, Mrs. Renwick remained frozen with her mouth opened wide atop Deacon's prick. The next thing she felt were cannonades of hot, mushy cock-cum spattering against the roof of her mouth and gurgling down her throat. As for Deacon, his lips were stretched wide over the cuntal faucet which was turned on full blast. And a sense of enormous relief flooded through him along with her pussy-cum.
The wide-open spigots from both male and female genitals permitted every precious drop of cum to flow out for entrapment in either the male or female mouth. And finally, at long last, the juices refused to flow. There wasn't any more. The wells were drained dry. Deacon's body sagged, and Mrs. Renwick collapsed onto the floor where she remained with wide open eyes that were blind to everything except her innermost thoughts. She was a teenage girl again in those inner thoughts. And the cock cream in her mouth belonged to her beloved schoolmate, little, black Dink. Smacking his mouth, Deacon, too, was lost in reverie. The cunt he had just eaten with such gusto had belonged to his darling white boss lady who gave him his first taste of white pussy so many years ago.
Normalcy returned, and with it reality. Neither was particularly welcome. But they enabled Mrs. Renwick to struggle to her feet, and see Deacon as he really existed; an aging, bald headed, toothless black man without finesse or taste. The only reason she had blown him was because she had associated him, in her mind, with little black Dink. And the cleansing light of reality slapped Deacon awake. He looked upon the seventy-year-old, flabby-titted, and smelly cunted white woman with a certain amount of revulsion. The only reason he had been able to blow was the fact she reminded him of the white boss lady of his childhood. In the future, he'd swap only for young, blonde, teenage girls.
"Thanks for the blow," Mrs. Renwick said and didn't bother to look directly at the middle-aged black man. "I've got to blow." Looking around the room, she wondered, "Where in hell is that stud of mine?"
"Fucking my daughter," Deacon reminded her. "By now, she's probably bit him up and chewed him out."
"He's only a boy," Mrs. Renwick said with concern. She'd come to like Chuck.
And she realized now that the young swap club stud was the one she needed to fuck her after all. He'd saturate her loins with youth and vitality. And she decided she'd put in a bid for his exclusive services. If necessary, she'd adopt him as her son. Every pore in her body ached for the sort of hard, driving fuck she knew her young swap stud could throw her.
CHAPTER SIX
Marie held the telephone in her slender, shapely hands. She held it near her mouth as though the instrument was a penis and she was contemplating the act of fellatio with her full, red lips. Every movement she made, Chuck thought, reminded him of some act of sex.
"For you," the girl said.
Chuck looked wary. "Who is it?"
Marie shrugged. "Sounds like a young, colored chick. Voice is really sexy. She's got a hard on for you, honey."
Chuck frowned. Ever since the swap meet, Afro had been calling him a dozen times a day. "I'm not in," he snapped. "And you don't know when I will be in."
Marie smiled, knowingly. A young boy like Chuck needed variety in order to season his judgement about women. She spoke into the telephone. "Chuck is not at the Renwick residence, Madam. I don't know when he'll return. You might try calling the agency of Madame Amour."
The maid cradled the telephone and looked questioningly at Chuck. This was the first opportunity to get all the details of the swap club meet. Mrs. Renwick had paid an entire week in advance for Chuck's stud services, and he had taken up temporary residence at her house. The old woman's sex appetite had grown insatiable. One fuck in the morning, a nooner, and a mouth job before she went to bed. She was supremely happy with Chuck's paid attentions. But the boy was definitely unhappy about the way she was monopolizing his time. And to make matters worse, Afro kept calling up every hour on the hour. She was just crazy enough to do something rash, he thought.
"I've got to get out of here for a while," Chuck told Marie. "Between that old woman's ever hungry cunt, and that black gal, I'm going bats."
"Poor boy," Marie clucked. "Did you enjoy this Afro?"
"The fun was in taming her," Chuck was compelled to admit. "Had this big hate about white cock. Now, she thinks I've got the only white prick in town. There's a hundred white guys that would love to pour the meat into her. Built like a brick shithouse with a wild cunt to boot."
Marie slipped her arms around the boy's slim waist. "Ever since you sixty-nined me, I've got a big flame for you too, cherie. But I'm not possessive. A boy your age should have variety. Sample this one and that one. Then, you are able to judge which love hole you like best." She smiled flirtatiously. "Then, Marie hopes that you will just want her alone. But meanwhile, I want you to try other holes."
"Old Mrs. Renwick keeps paying for my time," Chuck pointed out. "That leaves no time or energy to sample other girls. My body makes only so much cock cream at a time. And so far, she expects me to blow it all up her old cunt."
Marie kissed him affectionately on the lips. "Patience, darling. The Madam will run out of gas. She is making up for years of the drought. But tonight, you will escort Marie to a big party where you will see other pretty, young girls. Maybe you try to fuck them, too."
"Party?" Chuck asked, brightening. "A swap party? "
"Officially, its not a swap party," Marie laughed. "But in the end that is what happens. Everybody fucks everybody else."
"Sounds cool," Chuck admitted. "What kind of party is it?"
"It is a ball," Marie informed him. "An Artists and Models Ball. I have two tickets. You will escort me."
Chuck had read about the famous annual Artists and Models Ball. "But it's in costume," Chuck said. "And I don't have one."
"Leave that up to Marie," the maid replied. "I'll dress you in a costume that will be the big hit of the Ball. When all the ladies see you, they'll want you to fuck them."
"What have you got in mind?" Chuck asked. Now, he was beginning to get enthusiastic. The broads who attended the Ball were usually all terrific lookers, and looking for a cock job. Making a selection instead of being selected would be a switch.
Marie's fingers fluttered out and brushed against his penis. "I have knit a wollen sock to fit over your cock. That is all you will wear. You will attend the Ball dressed as a muscle man who can wear nothing except a cock sock while he trains.
In this way, the ladies will look at your body, the lovely, smooth cheeks of your ass. And when they see the sock over your pecker, they'll swoon. The sock will add just a bit of mystery and they'll want to snatch it off to get a good look."
"Wild," Chuck had to admit.
Marie decided to attend the Ball dressed in a maid's uniform. However, it as the sort of uniform that few maids wore during the hours of their regular employment. She wore nothing except a white, lacy apron around her waist, and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Her ass cheeks curved out in back of her, and her titties jiggling excitedly as she walked. This was the costume she wore when she entered Chuck's room to dress him in his sock. But one look at Marie bare breasted, and bare assed with nothing but her apron on pulled Chuck's penis stiffly upwards.
"You must make him go down," Marie said a bit peeved. "I measured the sock to fit the cock when it is soft. It will not fit when it stands up in this naughty manner."
"I've got no control over him," Chuck said and he was a bit disgusted himself. He wanted to get into his costume and set out for the Ball. And he certainly didn't want a blow at this particular time. If he lost his seminal flow now, he'd be impotent at the Ball. And it had taken quite a bit of talking to convince Mrs. Renwick not to milk him dry for the night. She'd be outraged if she knew he wasted his cock-cum on the maid.
"What am I going to do?" Chuck wailed. "I can't put on the sock unless my cock softens. And it won't soften unless I blow."
"And if you blow," Marie concluded with her Gallic practicality, "you won't be able to sample any new girls at the Ball."
"It can't stay stiff forever," Chuck said with what he thought was wisdom.
Marie demolished that line of reasoning. "It can stay stiff enough to make you miss the Ball. We've got to set out now, or miss it. They're great sticklers for punctuality."
Chuck resigned to the inevitable. "We've got no choice. I'm going to have to blow."
"I'm afraid so," Marie agreed. "But how? I don't want to fuck you now and get all wet."
"Just jack me off," Chuck sighed. "That way I won't lose so much cream. With a little luck, I'll still be able to get a hard on at the Ball."
Marie led him into the bedroom. They sat down on the edge of the bed. "We're going to have to make this quick," she explained. "Time is of the essence."
"But I can't blow quick from a jack off," Chuck pointed out. "It doesn't excite me that much. I've been masturbating for years. Nothing new or exciting about that old bag."
"Marie will fix," the maid said firmly and with more self-confidence that Chuck felt was merited. Whether he stroked his prick, or the jacking motion was consummated by Marie made little difference. That sort of thing no longer appealed to him. It was going to be a long, drawn out affair.
The French girl lifted up one cheek of her ass as though she was going to expel wind. In fact, Chuck thought she was going to fart. And this thought excited him even more. This affinity and attraction for female odors was a part of his sexuality that he had discoveed since embarking on the career of swap club stud. The smell of Marie's ass had raked him with lust during their recent sixty-nine. And even the pure, unperfumed odors from the colored girl's rectum had shivered him with excitement. But the release of wind was not what Marie had in mind.
"Stick your face up my ass," she commanded.
The picture was rapidly clarifying itself. As Chuck's face was wedged between the perfumed ass of the French girl, her educated fist would jack off his cock bone.
"I understand," Chuck murmured as his admiration and respect for Marie increased, tremendously. A mere whiff of her perfumed ass, and a few strokes of her fingers over his penile shaft would release enough cock-cum to soften the meat. Then, he'd quickly dress and they'd be off to the Ball.
"Ahhhh," Chuck sighed as his nose burrowed between the chic bodied French girl's ass. She had used a liberal amount of perfume between the cleavage. And this aroma blended in with natural rectal smells created a fragrance that almost blew the boy's mind. His nostrils inhaled and exhaled the delightfully scented and saturated air that flowed out of Marie's ass.
The feel of Chuck's face up her ass was especially gratifying to the anal minded French girl. And she made a secret vow that no one else would marry this charming, young stud. And because, her shapely fingers were invested with so much love and warmth for her ass sniffing companion, she had no trouble at all in milking the shaft in a matter of seconds. The drops of creamy pearls were deposited into a towel. The meat grew soft. Marie wiped the valuable appendage dry and squeezed his balls, affectionately.
"Everything Hokey Dokey," she called down to Chuck whose face was still wedged in the rear end love seat. With reluctance, Chuck pulled out his face, and sat up a bit dazed. It had all happened so quickly that he felt a bit weak.
"Thanks darling," I a murmured in a low, whisper of a voice. Instinctively, almost automatically he had referred to her for the first time with an endearment. He had never called any female 'darling,' before in his life. The loving expression was not lost on Marie whose soft heart grew even warmer to her young stud. No one was ever going to take this darling boy away from her. She'd fight tooth and claw for him. But now, it was important for him to sew his wild oats. When he realized how wanting other pussy was, he'd turn to hers with the permanency she expected. Together, they set out for the Artists and Models Ball.
The Ball was in full swing by the time Marie and Chuck arrived. Everyone was in costume. And they revealed as much as possible. There were plenty of exposed tits, cunts and buttocks. However, these exciting parts of the female anatomy were surrounded by cleverly designed costumes. And despite the crush of people, and blur of competing costumes, Chuck became the center of every woman's attention the instant he entered the ballroom. And the reason was obvious to everyone including Marie.
Chuck's manliness fairly dazzled through the assemblage and din. Most of the other males were queer, and their swishy, hip movements did nothing at all for the costumed models who were attending the ball in the hopes of finding, at least, one vigorous male. They recognized Chuck as someone who was all balls. No question at all about his gender.
Marie squeezed his hand. "You're being noticed, sweetheart," she informed Chuck. "You won't have any trouble in sowing your wild oats. I'll see you later," she said as she turned abruptly away from her escort and became lost in the crowd.
"Don't leave me yet," Chuck called after her. Despite the pulchritude of female, near naked bodies, not one of them could hold a candle to Marie's cunt. Marie was getting to mean more and more to Chuck. "Who wants to fuck anyone else when I can screw Marie?" he asked himself. This question was muttered aloud.
A girl in costume turned to him. "Won't I make an interesting substitute?" she inquired. The girl was wearing a mask and a pair of hot pants. And nothing else. Her figure was stunningly professional. And despite the mask, Chuck recognized her as an actress he'd seen in many moving pictures. This was her night for a little wild oat sowing. And the almost naked Chuck with the cute sock over his penis fascinated her sense of the theatrical.
This sense of the theatrical, as Chuck would presently discover, influenced her every thought including her sexual appetite. "I repeat," she said when Chuck appeared too surprised to reply, "won't I make an interesting substitute for a fuck?"
Words finally stumbled out through Chuck's lips. "Yeah, you'll do just fine. But how come you choose me out of all the guys at the Ball?"
The masked woman looked exaggeratedly around her. "Guys? All I see are a bunch of goddamned faggots. They're not interested in cunt."
"See what you mean," Chuck replied, sizing up all the swishy hips that were gyrating around the room. "They're looking for other male assholes to bung."
"Exactly," the actress gushed. "Now, fuck me darling or the entire evening will be a bust for me."
The thought of fucking a cunt that was the object of much lust all over the world appealed to Chuck. He'd be the envy of millions of red-blooded American males all over the country. "Mask or not," Chuck said, "I recognize you. But I just can't think of your name."
The actress said demurely, "Just call me Morticia. That's the name of a character I played in my last horror picture. I took the part of a lady mortician who fucked her handsome male corpses."
"I think I'm going to puke," Chuck said. He was only halfway joking. The theme of such a morbid picture didn't appeal to him at all.
"Necrophilia," the actress explained, "is as old as the hills. An old and I might add an honorable custom in certain countries."
"Anyone who fucks a corpse has gotta be sick," Chuck said, emphatically. And to change the subject asked, "Where am I supposed to ream you out."
The actress touched the woolen sock that covered his long, limp penis. "What a cute cunt sticker," she said. She looked around her. "There's a closet at the end of the room. I've been scouting about. It isn't very large. But it does have a light. I think we'll be able to manage it."
"Lead the way," Chuck said and for some reason he had a certain sense of apprehension. He was willing to have intercourse with a famous actress for the sheer novelty of the situation. But there was something definitely morbid and abnormal about her. There had been a certain gleam in her eyes when she mentioned the word necrophilia, the act of screwing a corpse. Chuck wanted to enrich his sexual repertoire with all sorts of diverse sexual experiences. But as he followed the actress to the closet, he almost bolted.
In fact, Chuck would have turned and ran if she hadn't turned abruptly, "This way," she said, pushing open the door of the closet.
The room was small, without furniture of any description. Just a room with a naked light bulb. But all they actually needed was a floor, Chuck realized. He was still considering the possibility of calling off the affair. And his suspicions weren't a bit diminished when she locked the door. "Just a precaution," she explained.
Chuck began to wonder if the woman was actually the actress he had in mind. He thought he recognized her world famous tits and ass. Also a certain huski-ness in her voice was a well recognized trademark. But because of the mask, he hadn't, as yet, seen her face to make the positive identification.
"Hope you're gonna remove the mask," Chuck said. "I never fucked anyone with a mask on before."
"Of course, darling," she replied. "It's not good form to fuck with a mask on. Besides, I wouldn't get my kicks if you didn't see the way I've got my face made up."
"You're wearing makeup under the mask?" Chuck asked, surprised.
"A very, very special kind of makeup," Morticia replied, and tore off her mask.
Chuck looked into her face and froze. "Jeezis," he gasped, "I think I'm gonna shit myself."
"Do I look that loathsome to you?" the actress asked, pleased.
"You look like you're dead," Chuck's voice was barely a whisper. But his description of the actress' appearance was an accurate one. She had painted her face with the white pallor of death. Dark, painted circles made her eyes look shrunken. Her face resembled the face of death.
Morticia explained. "In my next picture I'm going to play the role of a woman who gets fucked by her boyfriend after she's dead. A sort of final farewell fuck. The idea is to sink some cock cream into her pussy before they plant' her." She waved a hand to the floor. "I thought it would be a good idea to get the feel for my role before the cameras roll."
"You look awful," Chuck breathed as he backed away from her. But when he pulled the knob on the door, nothing happened. The door was locked.
And before he could unlock it, Morticia made a few decisive, and rapid moves. She dropped to her knees before the boy, and ripped off the woolen sock. Chuck's penis flopped all the way down. But it didn't stiffen. Instead, it began to shrivel up. The grotesque-faced woman appalled him. All of his sexual desire had evaporated the instant she had taken off her mask.
Still, the woman refused to be deterred or cheated out of her plans. "Get the idea," she urged, breathlessly. "I'm the corpse of your longtime girl friend. You've propped me up on my knees and are going to pump a fuck into her cold and clammy mouth. Doesn't that turn you on? "
"No!" Chuck wailed. "Get your hands off of me. Let me get the hell outa here."
Morticia clamped one arm around Chuck's waist to prevent headlong flight. With her remaining free hand, she drove a finger deep into his rectum. A goose performed by a slender, shapely and sharp nailed female never failed to excite certain nerve endings that studded Chuck's rectal walls. Despite himself, despite his feelings of revulsion and absence of any sexual desire for the woman, the penis instinctively erected. As the meat began to charge stiffly upwards, the clever necrophiliac removed her finger from Chuck's asshole and began to pull on his nuts. This assured the completion of the stiff. In a very few seconds, the cockhead was pointing upwards at the angle of the fuck. In this case, it was the perfect angle for a suck. The next thing he knew the skeletal faced woman had opened her mouth and clamped her teeth down over the shaft.
Chuck writhed in horror. Looking down, he saw the face of a dead woman with her mouth attached to his cock. It was revolting, disgusting, enough to make him puke. But he didn't. And his penis didn't lose its starch. To the contrary, the meat actually got stiffer. And the truth, in all its stark horror and amazement, made itself known to the boy. Grotesqueness and revulsion were just as much a part of sex as the beauty and symmetry of the female form. Monstrosity and abnormality were fuel that fed the flames of lust with as equal or more intensity as beauty and normality.
And when this truth took hold of the boy, he cast aside all of his former objections and proceeded to enjoy the suck. Now, as he looked down at the corpse's face, it excited him to think he was pumping a fuck into its mouth. And the more he grew excited, the faster his pelvis flew back and forth. His nuts banged up against the chin of the kneeling simulated corpse's face. And he tried, with savage thrusts, to ram his prick as far down the cold throat as possible.
Although Chuck knew that Morticia was a living woman, it was almost like pumping a fuck into the mouth of a corpse. And instead of being repelled, he was growing more excited by the moment. The meat of his shaft grew redder, thicker and more elongated. His nuts flopped back and forth, and inside him, rumbling noises shook his flesh as his semen charged upward and onward towards the exit.
"Gonna blow," he cried out as though he was in anguish. "Gonna blow in the mouth of a dead woman." And presently, his life giving semen erupted and fragmented into the mouth and throat of the kneeling woman who resembled a corpse in every detail.
Chuck had cried out his torment in louder voice than he realized. At the moment of the cock-cum flow, the door of the closet was broken open. Outside, a gaggle of people stood wide-eyed at the spectacle of a hot-blooded youth pumping a fuck into the mouth of what appeared to be a dead woman.
A fairy cried out, "Oh, how perfectly dreadful. He's screwing a corpse. The dirty, little boy."
But when Morticia moved, the audience realized that she was very much alive but only in the spirit of the Artists and Models Ball was dressed to resemble a corpse. However, in the midst of the audience that was rapidly getting larger, Marie stood and watched the awesome spectacle of Chuck with his bone in the mouth of a kneeling woman; a woman made up to resemble a corpse.
"How abnormal," she breathed and had difficulty catching her breath and restraining her stomach muscles from heaving. Such a boy was not for her. And he certainly wasn't good enough to service her mistress, Mrs. Renwick. She would make a full and detailed report describing Chuck's sexual abnormalities. Without a doubt, he was a confirmed necrophiliac.
And so, when Chuck finally got rid of the actress, he was unable to locate Marie. And when he returned to the residence of Mrs. Renwick, he found the door locked. Her cracked and snarling voice told him to, "Get the hell out of here, and don't come back."
"I blew it," Chuck told himself. He had been fired off his first job.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Never you mind about that crummy job, sweetheart." Chuck's stepmother Emma was trying to console him. Still, the failure to perform satisfactorily on his first job had a traumatic effect on him.
"I tried too hard to please everybody," he said. Mrs. Renwick had turned in a bad report to Madame Amour who had promptly fired him.
"It's really the best thing that could have happened. That creep Madame Amour was for the birds."
Chuck stared back at his stepmother in bewilderment Emma was wearing a see-through nightrobe, and was having a sip of gin before retiring. He caught his breath as the lovelivess of her shapely body shone through the transparent cloth. He could even see the color of her nipples and between her legs was a large, dark patch in the shape of an inverted triangle. And the sight of her cuntal hairs made Chuck's mouth water. Thoughts of incest with Emma danced over his genitals and thickened the meat. Still, he was really in no mood for fornication. His career had been so dismally demolished.
Chuck finally managed to speak. "Madame Amour was good enough to offer me a job when no one else would. Now, what am I going to do?" he asked as though the world had come to a grinding halt.
"Work for me," Emma said and let a swallow of gin trickle warmly down her throat. The warmth flowed through her body and caressed the interior of her genitals. Lips of cunt twitched slightly, and her clitoris began to thicken. "Work for me, baby cock," she added with enthusiasm.
"Work for you?" Chuck echoed as though his mom had gone suddenly daft. "You don't have a nickel."
Emma smiled teasingly. "What makes you think that old fart Madame Amour is the only one in the get-acquainted-for-a-fuck business?"
Chuck's eyes popped. "You are going to become another Madame Amour."
"My business name is going to be Madame French," she announced. "I think that ought to give my customers an idea of what they can expect."
"But you've got to have contacts," Chuck protested. "Clients with dough."
Emma waved a hand for him to hush. "Clients with dough I've got. I knew I'd outlive your daddy. I knew the time would come when I'd have to make a living on my own. I've been collecting potential customers for the past several years. Men and women. They're hungry for a fuck, or a good old fashioned French job."
"But why didn't you go into business before?" Chuck asked. He was still skeptical.
Emma poured another shot of gin. "I didn't have a stud to work for me. One I could trust. One I could even love."
Chuck found it still difficult to believe his stepmother. "Yet, you let me go to work for Madame Amour as a swap club stud."
Emma nodded, and sipped on her gin. "True. I had to see how you'd handle yourself. And I happen to think you did just great."
Chuck found it difficult to smile. "I got fired!"
Emma licked her lips. "You made one mistake, son. You gave it away free to that screwy actress. Never give a valuable commodity away free. It only cheapens it."
Then, the woman stood up, flipped up her see-through night robe and sat down with her bare ass on the lap of her stepson. Draping her arms around Chuck's neck, she said, "Just don't forget your mother has first call on that prick of yours. I get serviced before any of my clients."
Chuck's hand dropped onto his mom's pussy. Incest was something that really turned him on. "Thought I was never supposed to give it away free," he teased.
Emma yanked out her son's cock. It was already stiff and throbbing for the warmth of a woman's love box. "I give you love. My clients give you money."
"That makes sense," Chuck agreed, solemnly. On his very first job, his sexual expertise had been improved and his knowledge deeply broadened. "I'll never give it away free again," he promised as he wrestled Emma to the floor, and plunged his prick into the raging furnace of his mother's cunt.
