The itch was where it always was. Between her legs. A warm itch that set off little dainty growls of lust-hunger in her stomach. Liz lay on her, bed for several minutes, reviewing her past history -- especially the part pertaining to the male hands roaming clumsily about her breasts, brushing self-consciously over her cunt -- and tried to understand what it was that made her act the way she did when it got to that point. She knew that she was physically normal, that she had a passionate temperament, and that she had no puritanical, prudish hangups about sex. Why then, did the sight or the feel of a male organ frighten and sicken her so strongly?
Maybe I ought to go see a shrink, she thought. But what would I say? Could I tell him, I want to get laid but I can't stand to look at a cock or to feel one? And the shrink, horn-rimmed glasses and a beard, probably, would nod his head and say "Hmmm. That will be fifty dollars. See you next week."
Liz went to bed with that thought, smiling ruefully at the ironic way she had phrased her dilemma. She grabbed a book from the bedside stand and it happened to be from the pile for her introductory psychology course. She became engrossed in the pages having to do with sexual adjustment and attendant problems. Toward the end of her reading she came across a brief but fascinating paragraph dealing with masturbation. Looking down at the bottom of the page she found a footnote reference to "an authoritive, full and sensible treatment of the subject." She jotted down the author and title of the book so that she could consult it on her next trip to the library.
She put the text down and thought about what it might be like to frig herself. Liz's mother had firmly impressed upon her that "nice girls" simply did not handle their sexual organs unnecessarily and, for the most part, Liz had abided by that teaching. She had heard scary tales about what happened to girls who fondled themselves to excess and while she did not believe those stories, she could not reject them completely. She more or less felt, deep within her own mind, that there was nothing to fear from masturbation and that it was a very common, harmless act.
I wonder what I've been missing? she asked herself as she replaced the book on the stand beside the bed.
Liz lived in the dormitory of the college and shared her neat room with a girl named Emmy. She thought about how her own finger might feel delving deep within her pussy, squirming in there, the walls juicing to welcome it. She stood up and walked to the mirror of her dresser. She had nearly decided to attempt the lusty act when she heard the key being pushed into the lock of her door.
Her roommate, Emmy, pushed the door open and walked into the two-bedded room that had a poster of Robert Redgrave hanging on the wall. Liz lay back down on her bed, looking as innocent as a choirgirl. She looked up and greeted Emmy. Emmy, a tall brunette from downstate, had a strong mind and a sharp, cutting tongue, but even at that she was a good roommate, and a dependable friend. Tall, slender Emmy; and few girls in the dorm could rival her dark, statuesque beauty, or that sultry look in her eyes, for that matter. Her build and coloring contrasted sharply with Liz's more compact and well-developed, almost ripe little frame, and her blonde hair and fair complexion.
"I'm going to grab a shower before the concert. Rolling Stones tonight, you know,"
Emmy announced. She stripped and Liz couldn't help but envy the smooth texture of Emmy's body, the long curves of hips, breasts up nice and tight. ... She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, not understanding them.
As soon as Emmy stepped out of the steaming shower, she came back into the room and resumed their conversation, toweling her long, slender body with vigorous, reddening strokes.
"I don't believe you've heard a word I've been saying," she suddenly said to Liz in a mock-scolding tone. "What's the matter with you, got some senior stud with a nice bunchy jean-crotch on your mind?"
Liz didn't answer. Emmy moved over to the bureau they shared, now standing naked less than four feet from Liz's examining eye. She bent over, and the wide crack between the fleshy buttocks spread and winked back at her stare. Then straightening up, Emmy, stark naked and hands poised on her slender, almost masculine hips, let a tiny smile take possession of the corners of her mouth. Emmy folded her towel and placed it over the rack to dry. Emmy seldom bothered with garments like nightgowns and dressing robes, an attitude that had first shocked her more naive roommate, but to which Liz was more recently becoming accustomed.
"You're staring," Emmy said. "Reminds me of those rock-cocks that live upstairs. Sharing this building with a thousand hardons is beginning to bore me. Some of the girls, are a little bit ape too, have you noticed? Not that any of them would know what to do with a hot pussy. They seem to be a weak-kneed lot, by and large. There's one girl in psych two, keeps eyeing me. She wears thick glasses, ever notice her?"
Liz shook her head. Emmy pulled on a pair of thin, ultra-brief panties, patted two fingers of perfume between her thighs, and slipped a dress over her head. She seldom bothered wearing a bra. She stepped into a pair of sandals she had worn during the day. Throwing her hair back over her shoulders with a graceful gesture, she looked at herself in the mirror and approved of what she saw.
After a flighty wave goodbye, the door clicked shut, leaving Liz alone in the room again. She found it mildly exciting, lying on her bed and staring calmly at the ceiling as she anticipated the experiment on which she had determined to embark. She pictured the warm chills she might experience, now in creasing the one finger in her gushing pussy to perhaps another finger in her rectum. God! How that must feel!
She lay there thinking of the various techniques of masturbation she had just read about, thought about them in intimate detail, and noted with mild surprise that she was experiencing a slight but definite warmth between her thighs.
Soon after eight o'clock, the dormitory hall fell silent of its ordinary murmur of activity. Moving slowly, almost as if she were in a trance, Liz undressed. She carefully hung up her skirt and placed the rest of her discarded clothing in the usual laundry bag. She went into the shower and stood under a brisk stream of nearly boiling water for several moments. Her fingers worked up a thick lather from her bar of soap and spread it to the softly rising mounds of her breasts. She found herself breathing a bit more heavily. The pink nipples had already taken on an extra bit of sensitivity and she shivered with a strange delight when her fingers slid over the stiff, pointed tips, which were already darkened to a deep shade of maroon. Her hands moved smoothly down over her body, working the soap over her glowing skin, neared the honey-brown patch of fur covering the sharp V-mark of her lower tummy, and then disappeared between her soft, well-formed thighs.
But it was what her mind was imagining that amazed her!
Her hands reaching down and cupping one of Emmy's firm buttocks, while the other grazed down along the soft stomach, coming to rest at that particular spot that had held her attention earlier. A furry, delicate spot.
Then picturing her own hand moving more deliberately around one of the soft tit-mounds, her own mouth bending and nipping at the rosebud topping. She shivered.
A thought: MEN ARE BEASTS! MEN ARE BEASTS!
Yes, yes, it takes another woman to know how a woman feels about such things. ...
And then Emmy leaning back, with legs spread apart, the shower hissing softly, soap suds rolling downward, and a shiver of ecstasy rippling through every muscle of her body.
Another scene: Emmy's lips working their way down beyond her own stomach. A few expert flicks of the tongue, bombs bursting, passion lurching, thundering. Then something more violent.
Emmy's nails raking at her buttocks, and an unusual position, with Emmy's legs flailing around her ears like a dying mantis, scissoring to hold Liz in a vise hold. Both their bodies shuddering, from head to toe, as their shared passions burst over the peak in a series of fleshy spasms that left Liz drenched within herself and gasping for breath. She drew in lungfuls of air, and realized her index finger was deeply submerged in her cunt.
But why? But why? But Why?
Gingerly, sucking in her breath again and holding it, she touched the tip of her right index finger to the swollen bud of her clitoris. The sudden rush of new sensation brought another gasp to her throat. Liz's finger now moved down and curved, probing to the bottom of the furrow. Her finger slid easily into the juicy crevice, bringing a strange smile of satisfaction to her lips. She removed the index finger and replaced it with the middle finger, slipping it in to the second knuckle. She worked her finger in the dripping hole, and squirmed with the fullness the new finger brought her. Her outer fingers pressed down against the out-stretched lips of her pussy, holding them, firmly against her loins, and she found that this made her palm fit neatly over her bulging, tingling clitoris. The total sensation was amazingly satisfying. The shower still hissed, and she clasped her thighs together over the pleasure-giving hand, holding it even more firmly in place.
Her hips seemed to take on a life of their own, flexing and squeezing rhythmically in a way that forced her hot, love-slick pussy into her clutching hand over and over with compelling force. Her face flushed for a second time and her eyes glazed over with new lusty emotions as she continued to press her hand against her throbbing mound, mingling in the hair, liquid with the drippings.
Suddenly, Liz sobbed out a low moan of frantic pleasure as she lifted her hips to meet the flood, shoving the creamed mound into her hand with a volcano of energy.
"Agggh. Ohhhhh! Mmmmmm!" she groaned, writhing and trembling until it seemed that her knees would surely give; and then the orgasmic explosion burst within her womb.
Wanting to watch it all happen, Liz grabbed a hand mirror from outside the shower and placed it between her legs. She held the mirror with one hand, positioning it to give her a good view. The sight of the pulsing pussy gave her mind an electric shock. She moaned again and bit down gently on her lower lip, before once again spreading the tender folds of flesh apart with her fingers. She wanted it again! The pink inner meat glowed wetly. This time she took her time in examining the moon-shaped cavity leading up into her body. She noticed with interest the way her still erect clitoris peeper out cutely from the fleshy tissues surrounding it. A gentle, dainty odor of aroused femininity wafted up to her nostrils and stirred her senses even more.
If only that was the odor of another woman, she thought.
CHAPTER TWO
During the seven days following her initial venture into the art of administering relief to her own sexual desires, Liz turned every, one of her free moments to an intensive investigation of the ramifications of the act she was learning to perform upon herself. Twice Emmy almost interrupted her as she clawed anxiously at her loins and once a girl from a room across the hall nearly barged in on her as she lay with both hands tightly clasped to her pussy. Both times, fortunately, Liz managed to escape detection.
Her assiduous practice, coupled with her passionate temperament and her inquisitive, active mind, paid off handsomely, and she learned that she could give herself rib-jolting doses of sexual pleasure in several ways. Perhaps the most violently rewarding sensations, she decided, came from a combination technique which she improvised after considering all that she had learned about herself.
Liz had a small pillow with which she supplemented the larger one furnished with the room. She discovered that by fitting the smaller pillow between her thighs, with the point placed so that it snuggled into the lips of her pussy, she could combine long, savage hip thrusts and sharp pinches to her nipples. Putting all this together, brought her to a heaving, sobbing frenzy of aroused lust. and produced sensations of the most exquisite pleasure in her tortured loins.
Far from manifesting guilt feelings about her secret sexual practices, Liz seemed to prosper on them; Even Emmy, normally a very unobservant roommate, noticed the new calm and confidence with which Liz now faced her studies and her life at the university. Liz shrugged off Emmy's persistent questions about the source of this new attitude.
It was just as well that the girl had made this adjustment. Steve Haines and other boys whom she had dated in her first month at the university had been busy circulating stories of their encounters with Liz, all of which had turned out to produce similar results. Naturally Liz's popularity among the male students quickly declined to zero and she found no boys anxious to date her. Her declining popularity worried her not at all, though Emmy noted and commented on it.
"I don't care much," Liz answered one day when Emmy made an inquiring comment about her roommate's deteriorating social life. "It's about all I can do now, just keeping up with these courses. Besides, as long as you and I can go out for a beer every now and then, that's enough socializing for me. I'm against it by nature, but I'm afraid that I'm really turning into a bookworm."
"Let's just hope it isn't contagious!" Emmy sniffed and that ended the matter for her.
Emmy was enjoying a lot of attention from several fraternity boys, a group of Psi Alphas being most prominent among them. They were reputed to be the most formidable lovers on campus, though Emmy normally spoke of them with affectionate derision.
"Do you really like it?" Liz asked one afternoon when Emmy had made an especially pointed remark about that fraternity's alleged sexual powers. "I mean, letting all of them do it to you?"
"It beats cold showers, I guess, but that's about all I can say for the ones I've seen so far," Emmy said with a laugh. "There isn't a single one of them, I'm sure, who knows what a girl really wants or likes or needs. All they can think about is getting their big cocks between your legs. And then they have the brass to think they're doing you a favor!"
"Ah, but they aren't? Not really?"
"Huh! If only they knew!" Emmy snorted derisively. "Like two nights ago, this guy, Davey Heller, was wallowing away like a big whale stuck on a beach and telling me how great he was in the sack. Can you imagine? I longed to ask him when he was going to get around to putting it in!"
"But why do you bother, if it doesn't do anything more for you than that?" Liz persisted.
"I honestly don't know," Emmy admitted with a blank shrug. "Oh, there are times when I can get my rocks off real nice but most of the time, 'I guess, I just like to make that scene. Even if I don't get a very good come out of it, it's not the worst thing in the world. And those guys throw good parties, no doubt about that!"
Liz gave up, baffled by her roommate's casual acceptance of what seemed to be sexual license. She had grown accustomed to Emmy's frank and forthright statements. about her own views on the most intimate subjects, statements which no one would have voiced in the small farm town where she had grown up. Emmy, however, was to be taken just as she was or she must be rejected: the girl made it amply clear that she had no intentions of changing her behaviour and none of conforming to an alien code of conduct. Liz had learned to accept her roommate just as she was.
Emmy awakened her roommate one night, about two weeks after. Liz had first experienced the self-induced joy of total sexual release, by coming into their room half-drunk after a date. Although she was considerate enough not to flip on the overhead light, Emmy stumbled against a chair and muttered an incoherent oath under her breath. After regaining her balance she staggered over to her closet where she began undressing. At the same time she carried on a muttered conversation with herself, one which Liz -- who had not spoken -- could not help overhearing.
"Cruddy bastard," she heard her roommate say. "Can't even keep it stiff long enough to give a girl a good screw! Too damned stupid to know what to do once it's gone dead; he probably never heard of tongue-fucking a girl! Dirty bastard, he probably wore it out on one of his fraternity brothers. They're all a bunch of faggots anyway!"
Emmy lurched over to her bed and flopped down. She was silent for a time and Liz drifted back into a state of semiconsciousness. She soon came awake once more, startled into awareness by a strange sound coming from Emmy's bed. Lifting her head, Liz saw that her friend seemed to be kneeling on the bed, though the darkness was too thick for her to be sure of it. Another strange sound was enough to bring her up from her reclining position. She straightened up, flipping on her bedside lamp. The sight before her took her breath away completely.
Emmy, completely naked, had knelt on her bed and was reared far back. Her breasts, almost totally covered by the dark, fire-tipped nipples, pointed up into the air and her hands were locked in place over the dark, bushy hair covering her love mound. With knees spread wide apart, she had free access to her pussy and was digging her fingers deep into the dark inflamed gash running between her slender thighs. Taken aback by he dramatic sight, Liz could not tear her gaze away. Indeed, she found it intensely exciting and felt her own youthful pussy spring into instant throbbing life.
Emmy seemed quite unaware that the light had been switched on and that she was being observed. Her concentration upon the task she had set herself was complete, and she writhed in delirious joy. Liz immediately recognized that her roommate had a high degree of skill at satisfying her own lustful desires. Emmy's hips drove, thrust, swirled and shivered as she worked her pussy back and forth into her own hands. Her breath whistled from her mouth and Liz could hear bits of incoherent speech.
"Get it!" Emmy gasped, becoming more intelligible. "Agghh, pussy, pussy! Oohh, that's good, that's fucking good! Dig in there, fingers, fuck that cunt! Oohh, come, pussy, come for me!"
The girl suddenly stiffened, giving out one last low moan that spoke eloquently of her pleasure, and then she began to gyrate even more frantically. Squeals and cries of sensual agony burst from her lips, which told Liz that she had reached the absolute peak of her endurance. Slowly Emmy's orgasmic tremors died down and she sank back onto the bed, collapsing in a crumpled heap.
"I guess you caught me at it," she finally said after a long silence had begun to make them both uncomfortable.
"I'm awfully sorry," Liz quietly replied. "I didn't know what was happening; I thought you might be sick or something."
"No, I just had an extra horny kind of feeling and I couldn't get my date to work it off for me. The jerk, I tried to get him hard again and he was just totally dead! And then, when I propositioned one of the other guys at the party, he came on like I was some kind of freak!"
"When you what?" Liz demanded, unable to believe that she had heard correctly.
"We were in this one guy's apartment," Emmy explained. "Ted and I were in the bedroom and the others were in the rest of the apartment. When Ted went dead on me I was about to go out of my mind, I wanted it so. They had another girl in the living room, some dumb redhead I've never seen before. I went into the living room and two of them were going at her. There was another guy, Jimmy, standing by and watching them work on her. I asked him if he wouldn't like to work his stiff off on me. He got this real shocked look on his face and said I was Ted's girl. You'd have thought I was his mother or something!"
"It is a little unusual," Liz pointed out, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Maybe it is, but it's still not a bad way to ball," Emmy insisted. "Taking one guy right after another, it gets to be real sexy sometimes. The first time I fucked two guys in a row, I thought I'd never stop coming!"
"I can't believe it," Liz said, a skeptical look on her face. "I just can't believe that you'd really do it!"
"Honey, there's a lot about me that you don't know, I guess," Emmy said, a hint of remote mystery in her voice. "And I'll bet that there's a lot about the sex game you don't know either!"
"At least I know what you were doing when I turned the light on," Liz snapped, her cheeks blushing hotly. "I'm not that much of an innocent!"
"Maybe you're not," Emmy drawled, looking over at her friend with a calculating expression on her attractive face. "You know, I'm a little surprised that you know about the finger-dipping scene. Have you really been massaging that sweet little pussy of yours?"
"Yes, I do it fairly often," Liz said, losing control and nettled at the vulgar way in which Emmy stated the matter.
"Hey, this takes some getting used to," Emmy mused, drawing herself up into a sitting position and facing Liz. "Yeah, it's an odd thing to admit but I never really thought of you going at it by yourself, roomie. But I can see that it might get to you, though; I've. always suspected that you had a really horny streak in your make-up!"
"Me? Me, a sexpot?" Liz said, disbelief plain upon her pretty face. "Don't be silly, Emmy. Look, I'm awfully sorry I turned the light on and eavesdropped; I ought to have known better. But I thought you might be sick or something. I was really concerned."
"Thanks for the concern," Emmy said. "And I guess I was sick ... sick of halfassed kids trying to do a grownup's work. But don't worry about watching; that only made it better for me."
"Huh? How would my watching make it better? I don't understand."
"I don't understand it very well either," Emmy replied with an indifferent shrug. "All I know is that any kind of sex is about two or three times better for me when someone else is looking on. It's always been that way with me, ever since I found out about it."
Emmy's tone clearly implied that she did not want to be questioned about the way in which she had discovered this bizarre element in her personality.
"What about you?" Emmy asked after a short silence during which they had gazed deeply at each other. "What did you think about watching me do it to myself? Was it a little disgusting? Or maybe you thought it was sort of groovy?"
Liz paused for a moment before answering but then she admitted with a blush that she had found it intensely fascinating to watch another girl making love to herself.
"Ah, maybe you've got some promise after all," Emmy murmured, casting a reflective glance at Liz. "How about it, kid? Want to go at it together? Turn each other on real strong? I think I could really get up for that, doing myself while I look at you working it out!"
Liz gasped in surprised horror. She was shocked at the blatantly straightforward way in which Emmy had put the daring question, but she was even more surprised by the immediate response she felt in her own heart. Even as she found herself trying to sputter out a rejection of the lewd invitation, she found herself wanting to accept it; the result was that she could say nothing. Emmy saw this uncertainty and grinned broadly. She eased herself over to the edge of her bed so that her body was only a few feet away from Liz's face. She extended her feet to the floor, spreading them wide apart; slowly, very deliberately, she reached down to the fur-rimmed mouth of her pussy.
"There it is," she whispered, her glittering eyes fixed on the awestruck face of her roommate. "There's my pussy, right between my fingers! See, I'm spreading the lips out, opening it up so you can see everything! God, your eyes are burning me up! I feel your eyes, Liz; I feel my pussy coming alive when you look at me like that!"
Emmy's voice, low and intense with smoldering desire, inflamed Liz's desires far more than she would previously have dreamed possible. The girl slowly swung herself around so that she was facing her roommate and spread her own thighs far apart. She moved slowly, unsure of herself, but she could not have prevented herself from displaying her pussy had the entire world been watching her.
"Ah, I see it perfectly!" Emmy breathed huskily. "Say, you've really got a lovely box, Liz; it's so beautiful to see! Those big, fat lips, all covered with pussy drip, they're so big- and juicy looking! You're hot too, just like me; I can tell by looking at you that. you want it just as much as I do ! I can't help it, I've got to have it again! See, I'll lie back on my bed and do it to myself again while you watch me! God, I've got to come again now, right now, I'm so everlasting, pussy burning hot. There, that's what I need most of all right now!"
Watching with passion-glazed eyes, Liz saw her roommate slowly lie back upon her bed, keeping her pussy aimed directly at her, and reach down with her right hand to en-close the luscious slit. She plunged two of her long, agile fingers into the furry gap, darting them deep into the loveslick cunt and working them back and forth with deliberate motions. Her left hand reached around her left hip; the middle finger was delicately poised. Searching for a moment, Emmy found what she wanted and then plunged. that finger deep into the puckered brown rim of her own anus!
Liz could not keep her own hands away from her throbbing, aching pussy; the example Emmy was setting. exerted far too strong an influence on her, and she took her pain-fully sensitive pussy into her own fingers, gently massaging the lively flesh. If her fingers had worked wonders before, when she had been alone, they now produced a symphony of sensual splendor in her loins. She tenderly pinched her clitoris between two of her fingers, gathering up the quivering knob of ultrasensitive flesh until it fairly throbbed with pleasure; she knew that she could stand only a few seconds of this deliriously intoxicating joy before her womb would inevitably collapse in a whirling geyser of lusty exultation.
"Agghh! Aiiee!" Emmy sobbed, writhing and humping madly as she kept her fingers firmly locked deep in her body. "Fuck! Fuck! Do it, pussy, let it happen now!"
Liz could see that her roommate was experiencing abandoned pleasures of the most perverted kind and she found this example to be a most contagious one. It almost seemed that invisible charges of sexual energy sparked back and forth between their loins, linking them together and stimulating them jointly in their search for erotic glee; every thrust of Emmy's trim, darkly furred loins and every cry of delight from her passion-twisted lips brought an added jolt of solid sensual pleasure rocketing through Liz's hot little pussy. She fell into her climax with a headlong rush, dropping easily into a prolonged, convulsive series of gut-wrenching waves of orgiastic delirium which left her gasping and shuddering. She felt her legs giving way under the thudding shocks and allowed her body to sink back onto the bed as the last spasms of feeling ebbed out of her cunt and lapped over her fingers.
"How do you feel now?" Emmy asked when their breathing had returned to something like the normal level. "How was that for a come?"
"Wonderful!" Liz murmured, still shaken by the power of her climax.
"I'm glad of that," Emmy replied. "I was afraid you might have a hang-up. You know, about doing it with another girl."
"Hangup? Why should it bother me?"
"It's technically a form of lesbianism," Emmy replied. "You know, doing it to ourselves but watching each other. Some people would say that we're queers."
Liz considered the girl's statement reflectively, but even though she had certainly never favored homosexuality, she could not find it in her heart to condemn them for what they had done. She said as much to her roommate.
"I'm glad you feel that way." Emmy murmured. "Suppose, though, it turned into the real thing?"
"You mean ...?"
"Yes, just that, us doing it to each other, the whole bit. What about that? Would that still be all right?"
"I can't believe that it would be so bad," Liz answered, hardly daring to look at her roommate. "But it isn't likely to go that far, is it?"
"Isn't it?" Emmy asked, leaning toward Liz and lifting her head so she could see the girl more clearly. "I've done it with women before, Liz, and I know how good it can be! Yes, you needn't look so shocked; I've made love with women before and had them make love to me! Believe me, it's really a nice way to do it. And I think I'd like to do it with you -- all of it, everything that women can do with each other!"
CHAPTER THREE
Emmy's dark eyes blazed with passion when she made her confession. The statement clearly aroused Emmy's lusts, and the girl smiled happily at the words.
"All right, I'll show you some of the tricks," she whispered. "Hey, suppose I move over and get in bed with you? That ought to make it real comfy and help things out!"
"That would be nice," Liz said. "It's getting cool in here, anyway. Here, I'll pull the covers back and we'll get in."
The narrow dormitory bed would barely accommodate both of them, but they needed little space. Liz shivered with anticipation as Emmy settled down next to her; the girl's silky-smooth thigh nestled against her own and made her flesh tingle with lusty feelings.
"I'll tell you how I got started," Emmy murmured as they lay back together. "And I'll just run my hand over you a little; that ought to be enough to make us both want it more. God, I love the feel of your body next to mine!
"Anyway, it was a neighbor who showed me what to do. You know, Mom and I live in this apartment house. Well, it was a lady on the floor below. I don't know what she did, something very glamorous probably, but I used to think she was the greatest ever. She used to invite me in for tea and cookies and things like that. Gradually she worked me around to sex and then ... well, it just happened!"
"How old were you when it happened?" Liz asked.
"Oh, thirteen, fourteen, along in there," Emmy replied. "I'd just turned fourteen the first time we did anything together. Not that I was a virgin or anything; I'd already been fucked two or three months before that. But she used to wear these robes and gowns, the sort of thing you'd wear if you were the mistress of a bank president, very thin, very revealing; and she didn't mind at all showing off her tits or pussy.
"When she saw that I was interested in looking at her body, I guess she knew that I was her dish. Anyway, we just kept on and then one day I was stretched out on her couch and she was undressing me and kissing my nipples. As soon as she got my panties off, she slipped her hand between my legs and bam! I was off and coming like nothing!"
"That's what she did? Just brought you off with her hand!"
"The first time," Emmy replied. "After that she started showing me some of the other possibilities. Like I'm going to show them to you!"
"Are you going to bring me off with your hand?" Liz asked, her voice low and husky as the passion clogged her throat. "For the first time, I mean? Is that what you're going to do to me?"
"I might," Emmy answered, allowing her fingers to march over the tense surface of Liz's belly and approach the V of fur covering her love mound. "I think that's the best way to do it, at least for the start. Then, later on, we can get into some of the other things. I don't know if you're really up for some of them, at least yet; some of them are pretty far out, you know."
"Whatever you think best," Liz replied. "But I hope you'll at least tell me about them sometime. Mmm, I like that!"
Emmy's hand had slipped between her thighs; Liz had opened them at the girl's touch and now offered her pussy to the probing finger.
"Hey, would it be too cold if we got out in the open?" Emmy suggested. "I don't want to freeze but I sure would like to be able to see what I'm doing, especially for the first time. I think it's really the most, watching a pussy while you handle it!"
"I'm getting pretty warm," Liz admitted as she threw off the covers. "And I don't just mean warm for you either!"
She proudly displayed her flaming slit to the girl, who scooted around on the bed to examine it. Liz wished that Emily's body was accessible so that she too would have something to look at, but she quickly found that her roommate's touch was far too exciting for her to do anything but enjoy it. She propped her legs wide apart and listened as Emmy praised her flesh.
"You've really got a lovely pussy," Emmy said, running her fingertips lightly over the swollen, inflamed flesh. "So big, such fine lips! And it's got the nicest smell to it! Some women, you know, smell like sewers! Not you, though; this thing is a real honey pot. Mmm, you like the way I'm touching you, don't you?"
"It's driving me wild," Liz groaned, unable to stifle her enthusiasm. "I don't know what you're doing, but you're making me want to come more than I've ever wanted it before!"
"Really? Then in that case I must give you what you want," Emmy whispered, moving further up onto the bed beside the girl. "Here, I'll finger-fuck you and kiss your titties ... that's always a nice way to go. Mmm, you really have a set of boobs, you know that?"
"I've always been a little ashamed of them, deep down inside,", Liz admitted, writhing in sensual anguish as the girl brought her lips close to the swollen, aching tips of her breasts and gently blew on them. "They're so big! And now, of course, they're so sensitive!"
"Ahh, you really feel it, don't you?" Emmy purred, her right hand still busy tracing a pattern of lewd caresses over the flesh of Liz's tortured pussy. "Yes, I can see it. The nipples are big and dark, hard with lust; they really .tell me a lot about you. Well, how about it, Liz? Are you ready for me to do it to you?"
"Yes!"
"Come on, you've got to say more than that," Emmy teased. "Tell me exactly what you want, roomie; let me hear some fuck talk out of you!"
Liz hesitated for a moment. She could imagine what Emmy wanted to hear, but her deeply grained modesty prevented her from immediately answering the girl's request. Her passions continued to mount, however, and she came to the conclusion that Emmy would not give her the release she desired until she said the desired words. Anguished and tormented beyond endurance by her lusts, Liz finally gave way.
"Oh, I want to come," she cried out in a low, whimpering tone. "I want to come all over your hand while you finger my pussy, while you finger-fuck my cunt! And I want you to kiss my titties too! I want to come so bad I don't know what I'll do if you don't make me come!"
"That's the ticket," Emmy purred happily, and she bent her face down to the luscious ruby-tipped mound of white flesh that Liz thrust into her mouth.
At the same time that she took Liz's nipple into her lips, Emmy dug her fingers into the juicy, steamy mouth of the girl's cunt. She drove two fingers deep, seating them firmly, and then brought the heel of her hand into contact with the clitoris seated just above the hole she had entered. Liz immediately locked her thighs around the hand and began writhing strongly, forcing herself against the heavenly hand with strong, deliberate motions. Emmy's lips moved gently over the girl's big breast; her teeth teased the flagrantly enlarged nipple and brought even greater delight to the girl.
"Oohh, do it!" Liz whispered, almost out of her mind with sexual joy. "Do it to me, Emmy; keep on doing it! Your mouth, it's killing me! And your hand! It's tearing my cunt out; it's driving me wild!"
Emmy could say nothing, of course, but she continued to claw and suck at the girl's body. Liz's pent-up emotions could not long be contained and shortly they burst into a many-colored rainbow of sensual delight. She groaned happily as her womb pulsed out mighty charges of orgasmic pleasure; her cunt pumped heavily, deluging the girl's hand with the sweet, clear film of orgasmic triumph. Emmy continued to manipulate her roommate's body for a long time, hoping that she might again bring the girl to a climax, but Liz's explosion of lusty pleasure had temporarily deprived her of the ability to feel anything else.
"You really had yourself a come," she said when Liz at last opened her eyes and smiled. "I thought your cunt was going to eat my hand off!"
"It was beautiful," Liz sighed, twisting slightly and reaching out to put her arm around her friend. "And you made it ever so much better. I never felt it that way when I was doing it to myself!"
"It's always better when somebody else does it to you," Emmy told her. "There's nothing wrong with doing it to yourself, but it's just not as good as when you've got a partner!"
"Hey, what a pig I've been!" Liz suddenly exclaimed. "I lay here and let you do it to me and came till I thought I'd never stop, but I never even thought about you! I'm sorry, Emmy; would you like for me to do something to you?"
"I got mine," Emmy said, giving a short, husky laugh. "I had myself a little one at the same time you were letting go with yours."
"Are you sure? I didn't touch you, did I?"
"Here, feel for yourself," Emmy said, lifting her leg and allowing Liz to thrust an inquiring hand between her thighs. "I can't help coming when I feel the other person come. It's like a sympathetic reaction."
Liz gingerly touched the girl's thighs and discovered that they were indeed wet. It seemed that Emmy's orgasmic effusion had been nearly as generous as her own.
"Are we going to do it again?" she asked, noticing that Emmy made no effort to get out of the bed they were sharing.
"Do you want to? It's late, you know; getting on toward two o'clock."
"I'd like to," Liz answered. "I don't have a class until ten tomorrow and it's one I can afford to cut. How do you feel about it?"
"Honey, there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here all night long and ball you," Emmy said. "Mmm, I like this! You're a real joy to fuck!"
Liz's heart warmed at this praise, though she also recognized with a wry grimace that most of her friends and relatives would have been scandalized to have heard such a remark. Emmy was a lot different from any girl she had ever known in the small farming town where she had grown up. No one back there, she thought, would ever have dared give herself up to the savage, jolting kind of pleasure she had experienced at Emmy's hands. Liz realized that she had kept her hand between Emmy's legs and that her fingers were now very close to the girl's pussy. The girl's thighs were wet halfway down to the knee and Liz could tell that she was getting excited again.
"Go ahead," Emmy whispered, twisting slightly and thrusting her pussy against her friend's hand with insistent force. "Give it a feel. Haven't you ever felt another girl's snatch before?"
"Never!" Liz blurted out. "But I like it; yours is so different from mine ... so warm, so wet!"
"That isn't what makes it different," Emmy chuckled. "You're as hot and wet as any girl I ever felt in my life. God, I bet you'd be great to eat!"
"Huh?" Liz asked, shocked by the statement.
"Sure, just that," Emmy replied. "You know, get my face between your legs and lap up that sweet pussy juice with my tongue! Run my tongue all over your ditty, up into your cunt, maybe even over your asshole! That's something else women can do with each other. Or a guy can do it to you too, except that I haven't found many who are really very good at eating a girl's pussy."
"Good grief," Liz exclaimed, "are you sure that's a good thing to do? It sounds ... well, sort of messy and nasty!"
"Sure it's messy," Emmy agreed. "Nasty? I guess that depends on how you look at it. Some girls don't much like to eat pussy, though more of them like to have theirs eaten. But I'll admit that it's an idea you've got to think about for a while. Hey! What are you doing?"
Liz had dipped her index finger into the moist, overheated mouth of Emmy's cunt, saturating it with the abundant oils the girl's passion had produced. She removed the finger and transferred it to her mouth.
"I was curious about what you tasted like," she said, smiling at her roommate's surprised expression. "I've tasted my own fingers after I've done it to myself; you taste just like me!"
"I'll just see about that," Emmy muttered, digging her own fingers deep into Liz's steamy slit and then tasting them. After savoring the youthful musk for a moment, she smiled happily. "You know something? You're right! You're a damned tasty piece, I'll say that for you!"
"I'm glad to hear it," Liz replied. "Does this mean that you're going to eat me now? Am I going to get to find out what it feels like to have a woman nibbling away at my cunt!"
"No, I think that can wait a while," Emmy told her; she had sensed a tone of uneasy distrust in her friend's voice and she wanted to avoid introducing the girl to oral sexuality until she was sure that she wanted it. "Why don't we just think it over for a while? Later on, if you decide that you really want to try it, we'll suck each other off. But I don't like to do that to a girl unless she does it back to me, understand? That's too one-way!"
"I see what you mean," Liz agreed. "I promise I won't ask you to do it to me until I'm ready to give' as good as I get."
"Okay, that still leaves us a lot of room for playing around," Emmy said. "How was that come, by the way? As good as what you get by yourself? Or as what you get with a guy?"
"Maybe there's something you'd better know about me," Liz said after a long silence. She averted her head because she could not bear to look at her friend as she made her shameful confession. "The truth is, I can't make it with a guy. At least, I never have and I don't know why it should change. I've never done it with a fellow; I've never even let a guy get his hand into my panties."
She went on to expand upon her statement, fully explaining her intense feeling of panicked hysteria whenever one of her dates would begin seriously trying to seduce her. Emory listened thoughtfully and when Liz mentioned her especial fear and loathing of the male sexual organ she nodded sympathetically.
"Yes, I'd say that you're pretty anti-man," she said. "That bit about hating the sight or the feel of their pricks, that's really suggestive. It tells me that you're really oriented more towards women than men. Face up to it, Liz, you're just not made to lie there and let a guy shove his cock up your cunt!"
"I think maybe you're right," Liz agreed. "And if I'm made that way, it means I'm a lesbian, right?"
"I guess I'd have to agree with that," Emmy admitted. "So what? I've known several girls who didn't dig anything but girl stuff, at least in the sex line. There wasn't anything wrong with them; they just didn't want to ball a guy, that's all."
"If I'm a lesbian," Liz said, leaning up on her elbow and looking her friend straight in the eye, "then I think I ought to be learning more about what lesbians do I"
"That sounds to me like an invitation," Emmy murmured, drawing closer to the girl and fitting her hand again into the crevice between her opened thighs. "Like maybe you were feeling that horny sensation again and wanted to come!"
"You're exactly right," Liz agreed. "But do it to me another way this time, huh? Maybe some way where I can be sure I'm making it good for you too? Please? I want to make it happen for you, Emmy!"
"All right, I'd like that, too," the girl muttered, lifting herself slightly and altering her position so that she could slip her right knee between Liz's opened thighs. "Here's the way to do this: I'll fit my leg in here, see, so that the top of my thigh rubs against your pussy. That's going to make the top of your thigh rub against mine, see?"
"We're sort of scissoring each other!" Liz exclaimed.
"Exactly! And then we get real close, so we can rub ourselves against each other!"
"And what else do we do?"
"Lots of things!" Emmy replied, moving her hands up to seize the swollen nipples atop the girl's breasts. "We can handle each other's titties; we can kiss; but most of all, we can just plain fuck each other!"
Liz accepted the girl's mouth. She had often experienced the heady thrill accompanying a boy's kiss, especially the kind where the boy ran his tongue into her mouth, but she had never before felt her head reel with lusty desires the way she did when Emmy's sharp little tongue went darting into her mouth. She felt an additional jolt of solid pleasure when the girl's hands began squeezing her breasts, manipulating the nipples and agitating her nervous system even more. Mostly, though, she felt only a steadily growing tension in her entire body, centering in her loins but moving out to encase her entire being in a web of sexual hunger. She closed her legs around Emmy's leg, which fitted so neatly against the lively, tingling flesh of her pussy, and began writhing against it.
"Yeah, you've got the right idea," Emmy muttered, tearing her mouth away from Liz's and looking down at her eagerly. "You're fucking my leg now, kid; you're on the right track! And I'm fucking your leg at the same time!"
It was true, Liz realized. She could feel the warm wetness of the girl's pussy as it rested against her thigh and she deliberately tried to excite the girl further by flexing her thigh muscles, making the leg move against Emmy's pussy in what she hoped was an exciting way. Her effort paid off handsomely: Emmy gasped and began pressing herself against her leg with a more intense kind of fury.
"Do it!" she gasped, looking down into Liz's blue eyes with lusty fervor. "Do it to me, honey; fuck me with that leg of yours! Ahh, won't it ever come? Ugghh! Oohh!"
As Emmy lifted herself even higher and bore down on her hip movements, Liz saw her chance and took it eagerly. She lifted her lips to one of Emmy's dainty breasts and began mouthing the generously proportioned nipple. The hot, stiff little cone fitted nicely against her tongue and she allowed her teeth to close upon it in a gentle bite. Her caress brought another muffled groan of animal delight from Emmy's lips and the girl's thighs tightened around her own in a convulsive movement signifying the growth of her fierce hunger.
"Oh, eat my tit!" Emmy moaned, shaking her head and gasping with emotion. "Eat it I Kiss it! Fuck me?'
Liz could say nothing, since Emmy had jammed her breast down into her mouth with gusto and kept it there, grinding herself into her lips at the same time she worked her pussy against her thighs. Liz clasped the slender, muscular body and marveled at the tension enclosed in that dainty frame; Emmy's muscles were drawn almost to the breaking point and quivered with every movement she made. Her sensual energy transmitted itself to Liz, who felt her own passions mount rapidly.
"Agghh! Aiiee! Now! NOW!" Emmy suddenly moaned, pressing herself even more closely to Liz and beginning to tremble violently. "I've got it now; I'm coming now! Oh, baby, do it again! Come, damn you!"
Liz's own eager cunt burst into sensual splendor at almost the same time. The climax took her by surprise, being one of the short but extremely violent kind, and she held herself rigid as the spasms of orgasmic tension poured out of her womb and cascaded onto Emmy's waiting thigh. The two girls held themselves locked together, quivering and moaning helplessly, until the last flicker of climactic sensation had ebbed from their bodies. Then they slowly fell back onto the bed, settling down into a side-by-side position.
"Beautiful!" Liz whispered, reaching over to touch her lips to Emmy's cheek. "That was just the best ever, absolutely the best!"
"Hey, you've got a real talent there," Emmy exclaimed. "I just never would have believed that you could go at it like that!"
"Maybe you've got a way of bringing out my hidden talents," Liz replied, flushing proudly. "But I'm glad that I could make it good for you! Gee, it's nice to feel somebody else come!"
"That's one of the nicest parts about it all," Emmy agreed. "Sometimes it seems that you can sort of egg each other on and make it a lot better than it would ever have been normally. Let's rest a while, huh? That one really knocked me out!"
They lay back, nestled against each other, and drifted off to sleep. Liz found it highly stimulating, holding her naked flesh next to that of her roommate; when Emmy turned over in her sleep and pressed her trim, boyish hips into Liz's tummy, she gathered the girl in her arms and luxuriated in the closeness of their relationship. She went to sleep congratulating herself on being so lucky in having a roommate of such varied and delightful skills.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next ten days whipped by Liz with her scarcely noticing them. She awoke each morning to marvel at the wondrous thing she had discovered about herself and to wonder at the new relationship she was forming with her roommate. She tortured herself each day by allowing her mind to construct extravagantly erotic ideas about what she and Emmy would do that night, or whenever they could arrange to be alone in their room for more than a few minutes. She dreamed up new and exciting ways of demonstrating her affection for the girl, and indeed behaved like a teenager just falling in love for the first time.
At first Emmy enjoyed this adulation from the inexperienced girl, but she soon tired of Liz's demonstrative excesses. Easily bored and incapable of maintaining any interest for very long, she alternated between playing up to Liz's affectionate advances and sharply repelling them. Liz wept bitterly when Emmy snapped at her, but nothing seemed able to dissuade her from manifesting her love.
Despite Emmy's frequent rebuffs of the girl, they managed to make love almost daily during the ten days. No matter how much she might scoff at Liz's love, Emmy could not resist the delightful pleasure of building an inferno in the girl's loins and then fanning the flame into even hotter emanations. Liz steadily became less restrained in her love-making and began to display a real interest in the acts they performed, as well as a great deal of talent satisfying both herself and Emmy.
"When are you going to show me about doing it with my mouth?" Liz asked one evening as they lay stretched out together, winded and limp from an arousing session that had left them both straining convulsively at each other.
"What? My innocent, virginal roomie's getting hot for a little French? Wants to have her pussy eaten out? Wants to go down on me?" Emmy asked, casting an affectionate smile at the girl.
"Yes, that's what I want," Liz admitted, never changing the eager, devoted expression on her face. "I'm dying to do it to you, to have you do it to me! I spent almost all day today trying to imagine what it would be like!"
"Um, so that's what had you worked up," Emmy murmured. "All right, Liz, if you want it, I'm willing to show you what the score is. But are you sure you want it? Sometimes, you know, a girl gets really hooked on eating pussy and just won't ever have anything to do with a guy again."
"I don't care, I just want to see what it's like," Liz replied. "And as for guys, I could care less about them! Come on, Emmy, will you show me, please?"
Emmy consented and began readjusting herself on the bed.
"Look, do you want to do it to each other at the same time?" she asked, pausing to throw an inquiring look at Liz. "Or shall we take turns?"
"Which way is best?" Liz asked. "I don't care; I'll do whatever you want. Just tell me what I should do and I'll do it!"
Emmy considered the girl for a moment before answering.
"For the first time maybe we ought to skip the sixty-nine," she said, frowning thoughtfully. "That could come later, once you get the hang of what to do. For the first time, it might go better if I did it to you first and then let you have a go at eating me."
"That sounds wonderful," Liz told her roommate. "How do you want me? Should I lie some special way?"
"Just get on your back and lift your legs way up," Emmy told her. "See if you can get your knees right beside your ears ... here, I'll slip a pillow under your butt; that'll help you keep it up in the air."
Liz did as she was directed. She immediately realized that this brought her pussy peeking up between her thighs; she had by now outgrown her modesty enough so that she could show off the whiskered. slit with a considerable amount of pride. Emmy directed her to reach around her hips so that she could open the lips of the heated crevice.
"That's right, just spread the lips a little and let me see it," the girl muttered, kneeling at Liz's rump and looking down at the crimson slit. "God, you're so wet! This is going to be good; you're covered with come and cunt drippings! Mmm, I can smell you, darling; you're hot and wet and I'm going to eat your cunt till you can't even see straight!"
"Do it!" Liz whispered, almost overcome with anticipation.
Emmy was not to be rushed, however. She brought her lips closer to the crevice Liz's fingers had opened wide and then she gently blew upon the wet, naked, overheated flesh. Liz let out a gasp of astonished delight, whereupon Emmy ordered her to press the lips together again and pull her hands away.
"I'll open you up with my tongue the next time," she purred. "And then you'll .really feel something!"
Liz sucked in her breath and waited. Emmy's first move was to touch the very tip of her tongue to the outer folds of flesh guarding the entrance to the girl's cunt. Liz shivered with frenzied joy at this tiny contact. Emmy's tongue traced an oval around the slit, touching lightly and teasing its prey into even more fervent exclamations of wonder and delight. Liz gritted her teeth and held back the cries she wanted to let loose; she knew that nothing she could say or do would persuade Emmy to alter the pace of her lovemaking.
Then Emmy's tongue became even more active. It pierced the puffy outer lips and glided near Liz's throbbing clitoris, then traced a slow but infinitely exciting path down to the entrance of the girl's cunt, where it slowly burrowed into the moist, tense opening and brought additional tremors of savage pleasure to Liz. Finally she withdrew her tongue and thrust it over the flesh to the rear of the opening, ending up with a gentle, darting stab at the puckered opening of the girl's anus.
"God, I can't stand it!" Liz murmured, holding herself back by an immense exertion of will power. "Once more like that and I'll die, I swear I will!"
"Get ready to die," Emmy grimly muttered, and repeated the operation.
Liz stuffed a corner of her pillow into her mouth and bit down on it with a savage motion. She had to do something to stifle the screams of animal delight, she felt mounting in her breast; she could not prevent herself from giving vent to the feeling of agonized joy which coursed through her flesh. Emmy continued to work her tongue up and down the juicy furrow, and at the very height of the girl's climax, she plunged her stiffened tongue deep into the mouth of the throbbing cunt at the apex of that slit. Liz quivered and gasped at that; the extra presence of Emmy's tongue gave her the final dash of sensual elation and she felt her sexual triumph as never before.
"Incredible!" she gasped when at last she could speak. "Too much!"
Emmy knelt at her rump, a smile of happiness on her face. Her lips were thickly smeared with the orgasmic discharge from Liz's fervent cunt.
"You really dug it," she murmured, her eyes glowing with passion.
"I sure did!" Liz agreed, struggling to lower her legs back to the bed and to lift herself up onto an elbow. "I never felt anything like it in all my life!"
"Are you sure you want to do it to me?"
"Just let me try!"
"All right, I'm ready for it, too," Emmy replied.
Liz lay flat on her back and Emmy moved forward, walking on her knees and bringing herself closer to the girl's waiting lips. She settled herself into position, straddling Liz's face with her thighs and holding her steamy pussy in place just above her mouth. Liz looked up and saw the crimson scar, rimmed with thick, black fur, and sniffed deeply of the girl's excited overflow of pussy oil. The flesh of the slit glowed wetly, amply testifying to Emmy's hyperexcited condition, and she lifted up her mouth to touch the exotic slit.
"No, not yet," Emmy whispered, pushing the girl's head back with her hand. "I want to hold it off as long as I can; I'll come as soon as you touch me, I'm that turned on. Just look at it awhile. Maybe blow on it?"
Liz pursed her lips and expelled her breath toward the lusciously swollen lips of the girl's pussy. Emmy quivered with emotion as the stream of warm air tickled her most sensitive flesh; Liz could see the stiff little hairs at the lips bend and move from the strength of her breath. Emmy's involuntary movement, together with the widespread position of her thighs, was enough to force the outer lips open. Almost glued together by the abundant oils her womb had generated, the lips parted reluctantly. They peeled themselves apart, however, and Liz could now see the soft, dainty inner lips, which were also opening themselves, and then the jagged, crescent-shaped opening of the girl's cunt. Emmy's clitoris, a tiny, pea-shaped protuberance, rested at the cleft of the inner lips, and Liz tried to imagine the joy she would feel when she could touch her tongue to that supremely sensitive organ.
"I can see it all," she said, moving slightly to rub her cheek against Emmy's left thigh. "Your clitty, your pussy lips, the mouth of your cunt! Oh, Emmy, you're so beautiful; you've got such, a lovely pussy; I'm dying to eat it! I want to feel you come, to feel your cunt shooting come into my mouth!"
Liz was already experienced enough to know that Emmy would probably not be able to resist language of this sort. The girl seemed to find sex talk especially exciting, especially when the talk included words usually described as "dirty" or "nasty," and this time was no exception.
"Get ready!" she gasped, reaching down, to cradle Liz's head in her hands and lifting her face upward, directing her mouth toward her pussy. "I'm ready for it now! I can't hold it off any longer; I've got to fuck your mouth! Do it to me ... tongue-fuck me!"
Liz's tongue darted forth from her lips, making contact first with the lips of the girl's pussy. The taste of hot, sensually aroused cunt immediately assailed her senses and provoked her into a fury of activity. Her tongue slipped forward, gliding over the swollen tip of Emmy's clitoris and bringing a heaving gasp of agonized pleasure to the girl's lips; then she traced a path backward over the puffy folds of flesh. Liz deliberately teased her friend for a moment, forcing her tongue to describe a circle around the cunt opening, and then she shot it deep into that taut, muscle-rimmed orifice. Her lips pressed hard against the flesh surrounding the opening as she sought to drive her tongue into the deepest parts of Emmy's cunt.
"Agghh!" Emmy moaned, holding Liz's face tightly against her pussy and grinding her loins furiously. "You're doing it to me; you're making me come all over! Ugghh! Oohh!"
Liz could not remove her face -- Emmy was holding her too tightly for that -- so she contented herself with thrusting her tongue in and out of the girl's cunt with a rhythmical motion. It occurred to her that Emmy's phrase was very apt: she was indeed "tongue-fucking" her roommate; she had transformed her tongue into a prick and was exciting her friend into a frenzy of erotic joy. The thought inflamed her senses and one of her hands crept down to her own slit. There it sought the stiffened clitoris, found it, and she rubbed herself into another climax. Together the girls wrenched pleasure from their bodies until they could stand it no longer; then they fell apart and lay crumpled on the bed.
"How was that for pussy eating?" Liz whispered. "Did I do it good? Was it the way you wanted it?"
"You were marvelous, darling," Emmy gasped. "I've never had it any better, not ever!"
Liz knew in her heart that she had pleased the girl, but for some obscure reason she wanted to be, told that she had done so. Emmy's words' of praise gave her the final fillip of pleasure she needed; she now knew beyond doubt that she had indeed given her friend the supreme sexual pleasure and had done so in a way that both of them found congenial.
"But now it's time" for something else," Emmy added, twisting about so that she could place her mouth on Liz's.
They kissed for a few moments and then pulled their faces apart.
"I always like to kiss the mouth that's sucked me so good," Emmy sighed, rolling onto her back and snuggling up beside her roommate. "Even guys, once they've given me a good fuck, I like to lick their dicks off good. It seems like it's the least I can do. Sort of like paying them back for the pleasure they've given me, you know? And I've got to admit this too: I just like the taste of my own pussy ... especially on someone else!"
"Do you really get your mouth on a fellow?" Liz asked, slightly repelled by the notion and distinctly hurt by the ease which Emmy showed in discussing her relations with the opposite sex. "Even after they've done it in you? 'Doesn't the stuff taste awful?"
"It doesn't taste bad at all," Emmy said. "I like the taste of come. In fact, I think I like it almost as well as I do my ability to make them come."
"I don't understand," Liz complained.
"I don't either," Emmy admitted. "But I've always really gotten a bang out of the idea that I can make a guy shoot off, regardless of whether or not I'm enjoying it. Seems to me it's another proof that we've really got it on the guys, you know?"
"What? You mean they can't control it?" Liz asked. "You can make them come whether they want to or not? Whether you come or not?"
"That's it," Emmy told her. "I've never yet seen one I couldn't bring off in just a little bit. Sometimes when you're fucking them they can hold it back for a while but there isn't a man in the world, I'll bet, that I can't suck off in a couple of minutes or so!"
A few days after that initial foray into the joyous mysteries of oral sexuality, Liz experienced another new sensation. She and Emmy had quickly graduated to mutual excitation and pleasing of each other, an act which Liz found equally satisfying. One night, when Emmy came in from a date, Liz found herself the object of the girl's most calculated approach. Emmy appeared to be either drunk or high -- Liz could not tell which but there was a light of deviltry in her dark eyes and a mischievous look on her face.
"You know What Pd like?" she asked as she undressed, flinging her clothes aside with careless abandon and gradually displaying more of her trim nakedness to Liz's eager gaze. "I mean, what I'd just dig utterly?"
"No, what?"
"I'd like to play some sixty-nine with you," Emmy murmured, stepping out of her panties. "This guy, he just couldn't do it; I fucked him twice and I never even got close to a come! I'm dying for a good screw, Liz; would you like to suck 'me off? I'll do it to you, darling; I'm really hot for it and I'll give you a good one!"
"You let this guy do it inside you?" Liz asked, already knowing the answer. Emmy was taking the pill, she knew, and the thought of placing her mouth upon the girl's pussy while it was still wet with a man's effusion simultaneously attracted and repelled her.
"Baby, he shot off twice," Emmy said, standing beside the girl's bed with her knees wide apart and a finger roaming over the damp, matted fur surrounding the tender slit. "Both of them real big ones, just a perfect gusher of a man! I'm dripping with come. Do you want to do it to me that way? I'm dying for it; I really am!"
Liz struggled to get out a statement of disinterest but she could not force herself to say it. Her roommate's self-confessed need plucked at her heart strings and turned her statement into a soft "yes!"
"If you just can't finish it, don't," Emmy said as she climbed onto the bed and positioned her knees beside the girl's head. "But give it a try; maybe you won't hate it as much as you think!"
Liz looked up and saw the moist, juicy slit waiting for her. A strong, musky scent of pure sexuality wafted down to her nostrils; the semen, mixed with Emmy's own abundant oils and warmed by her excitement, had a strong, gamey smell. To her own astonishment, Liz found the sharp odor slightly exciting. Just as she began thinking that she might actually like the new taste, however, a hidden blob of milky, creamy sperm welled out of the mouth of Emmy's cunt and rolled down the lips. Liz nearly gagged at the disgusting sight. The blob, no bigger than her thumbnail, slowly edged down to the apex of the pussy's inner lips and then came to rest against Emmy's clitoris. Liz was ready to give up and admit her total inability to perform the act when suddenly Emmy's mouth descended upon her own pussy.
"Ow! Oohh!" she gasped as a lightening bolt of sensual elation spread through her loins.
Emmy had sucked up the lips of the girl's pussy into her mouth and was gnashing the aching, ultrasensitive flesh with her teeth. At the same time her tongue was flickering back and forth between Liz's clitoris and cunt. The myriad sensations were overwhelming in their intensity and the girl could not resist the attraction of Emmy's pussy, which now seemed far more attractive than ever before. Liz closed her eyes and blindly attacked the moist crevice.
Although she was prepared to exert considerable will power to keep herself from gagging at the taste of semen, she found that the creamy mess was far less repulsive than she would have imagined. Indeed, she decided after a moment or two that the salty, bittersweet tang fitted in well with the honeyed musk exuded by Emmy's cunt and she began eating the girl vigorously. Her tongue worked its way deep into the cunty opening and her fingers clawed nervously at the trim hips, forcing Emmy down upon her further. Together they heaved and ground their way to a tumultuous, long climax, which drained their cunts of every emotion.
"God, I wish I had a prick," Emmy sighed after they had separated and fixed their bodies so they could lie face to face. "You know, I'd really like to have about a ten-inch jobbie tonight, one about as big around as my wrist, and a pair of balls just full of hot, juicy come. I'd really love to fuck your cunt right down to the bottom. Maybe fuck your asshole too, I don't know!"
"Heavens, what brought all this on?" Liz asked. "I'm not complaining, mind; I think if you had a cock I'd let you fuck me, I love you so much. But it seems like a curious thing for a girl to want."
"I don't know, I just thought 'it would be nice," Emmy replied. "Hey, it wouldn't be bad even if all we had was one of those toy models!"
"You mean like that gadget your friend used on you?"
"Yeah, even that," Emmy agreed.
She had once told Liz of a friend who had enjoyed making love to her with the aid of a rubber dildo, a strap-on affair which was rather like a male sexual organ. Liz tried to imagine seeing Emmy togged out in such a gadget but her imagination could not encompass such a feat.
"Or maybe one of those other things I heard about once," Emmy added. "It was like a rubber hose, sort of, except that it had a prick's head at each end. It was about a foot and a half long, I guess, and it was really supposed to be something else."
"How would it work?" Liz asked. "I can't imagine such a thing."
"The way I heard it, you lay end to end. One girl would run half the thing up her cunt, or as much as she wanted of it, and then the other one would start pushing it into her cunt. They'd sort of scoot together to keep it from popping out and then they'd just wiggle and sort of fuck each other. Every time one girl moved, it made the hose do real wild things in the other one's cunt, I heard. Sounds interesting."
"I don't think it would be a bit better than what we could do with our hands and mouths," Liz declared. "Heavens, if it got any better than that, I'd just pass out!"
"You might be right," Emmy admitted. "But what the hell, I'd sure like to try it. Hey, I bet that gym instructor of yours would be likely to have something like that. They're all gay, you know; she's probably got herself a tool that she'd just love to use on you!"
Liz blushed and tried to refute the charge. In the past week, she had grown especially friendly with Donna Rice, a graduate student in physical education who took charge of her gym class. Liz's efforts to over-come a handicap in her backhand the class was working on tennis -- had attracted Donna's attention and they had stayed after class one afternoon in order to iron out the difficulty. This bit of extra attention had converted Liz into a wholehearted admirer of Donna's, though of course she did not look at the older girl in the same way that she looked at her roommate.
Still, after that extra-hours session, when they had gone back to the locker room to dress, Liz had felt a strange sensation. Donna had undressed in the part of the locker room reserved for the instructors but had joined Liz in the shower room. Liz had immediately noticed that Donna had the same slim, high-breasted kind of figure that she admired so much in Emmy; she also noticed that Donna's platinum-blond hair was fake, since the woman's pubic fur was dark brown.
"The showers always separate the bottle blondes from the real ones," Donna had said with a self-deprecating laugh as she took a shower beside Liz's. "But I don't mind, only my friends see the rest of me, usually."
They had continued their discussion of Liz's backhand as they soaped and rinsed themselves. Liz felt sure Donna was admiring her full-breasted figure, but then she told herself that she must surely be wrong; an older, experienced woman like Donna wouldn't see anything of interest in a callow freshman like herself. They had dressed and gone their separate ways. Liz mentioned the incident to Emmy when they went back to their room after dinner and Emmy had promptly accused the girl of making advances to her instructor.
"It isn't so!" Liz hotly denied, but then she saw that Emmy was teasing her.
Donna and Liz shared a cup of coffee after one of the gym classes later in the week, but their conversation was limited to tennis and Liz's impressions of the university. She saw nothing in the event worth mentioning to Emmy and, wishing to avoid being teased further, kept the information to herself. Nevertheless, Emmy occasionally mentioned the incident, especially when she was in a bitchy mood, and she seemed to delight in hurting Liz.
"No, I don't think Donna's at all interested in me," Liz insisted, trying to console Emmy by slipping a hand between her thighs. "And I know for sure that I'm not interested in her!"
"That's right," Emmy agreed. clamping her thighs tightly around the hand and working her pussy against Liz's fingers in a highly insinuating way. "You're hooked on pussy all right, but there isn't but one brand that satisfies you!"
CHAPTER FIVE
One Friday afternoon, when Liz had left her last class of the day and was leisurely strolling across the elm-studded campus toward her dormitory, she heard a familiar, sharp clack-clack of heels on the sidewalk behind her. Turning, she saw her roommate nervously striding toward her. Liz paused and admired the way Emmy walked. The girl's energy seemed boundless that afternoon and she walked at a fast, determined gait.
"What's your hurry?" Liz asked, turning to fall in beside her. "You're almost running!"
"I was hoping I'd run into you," Emmy muttered after looking around to make sure that their conversation would not be over-heard. "I'm so hot I don't know what to do! I spent two hours in that damned lab and all I could think about was getting my pussy into your face! Either that or going down on you; it doesn't much matter to me. Come on, let's go back to the dorm and fuck!"
Liz's heart jumped almost into her mouth when she heard these words. She was not in an especially sensual mood, but the clear, urgent force of Emmy's desire quickly aroused her. Knowing that she was desirable to the girl also aroused her and she felt her pussy swelling, warming and growing moist.
"Just hearing you talk about it gets me ready," she said as they hurried along. "I can already feel my panties getting wet!"
"If I had any on they'd be soaked," Emmy replied. "I had to cut out of the lab for a while; I went in the john and finger-fucked myself. That's how bad I wanted it! And when I got through I just never got around to slipping my panties back on again. Mmm, baby, I'm really going to wear you out! I think I'm going to be in the mood for some hard, fast flat-fucking; how about you?"
"Wonderful!" Liz groaned, already anticipating the delicious pleasure of having Emmy lie over her, fitting her thighs between her own and placing the furry muff of her love mound against the strained lips of her pussy.
The girls continued to talk of what they would do and of their desire for each other as they hurried onto the dorm. They paid no attention to anyone, making straight for their room and for the rendezvous they both desired with total ardor. Once inside, Emmy pushed the door closed and threw her books aside. She ripped her clothes off quickly and was undressed before Liz. She fingered her pussy impatiently as she waited for the girl to unhook her bra and step out of her panties, then pushed her onto a bed and buried her face between Liz's opened thighs.
"I want to eat you a little," she muttered, tossing her hair back and nibbling hungrily at Liz's thighs and the rim of her pussy. "It'll make it better for both of us; I'm dying to let it go right now but I know it'll be ten times better if I can hold off for a few minutes!"
Liz gritted her teeth and. submitted to Emmy's ministrations. It cost her an effort to hold back her emotional response to the girl's expert titillation of her pussy; she longed to reach down, hold Emmy's face tightly against her loins and grind out a quick orgasm. Instead she forced herself to lie quietly and to try to keep her body still as Emmy's tongue flicked over the most intimate parts of her being.
"I can't stand it any more," Emmy said after a few minutes of that delicious, soul-stirring activity. "I've got to get on you and work it out!"
"Do it!" Liz whispered, reaching out with her hands to enclose her lover. "I want you to fuck me, I want to feel you making me come all over myself! I want to do everything with you!"
Emmy raised her face from between Liz's arched thighs and moved into position. She acted exactly like a man, lying over the girl and fitting her loins tightly into place against the fevered slit running between Liz's opened thighs. The dark, crinkly hair surrounding her pussy ground hard into the soft, delicate flesh, but Liz eagerly accepted the slight discomfort; she knew that the sensual excitement of having Emmy close to her in that especially intimate position would soon overcome all the minor discomforts. She waited until the girl had settled herself into place and then closed her legs around the tense, slender body, locking them into a single unit dedicated to the pursuit of sexual pleasure.
"Let's just lie here for a minute," she suggested. "Let our pussies talk to each other and get reacquainted."
Emmy agreed, though she could not prevent herself from moving against the girl slightly. She nibbled around the edges of Liz's firm breasts and ran her hands over the girl's smooth flesh, stirring them both into an even more fervent stage of sensual hunger. Gradually Liz's self-control began to slip away and her hips took on a life of their own; she began thrusting her pussy against the hard, hairy love mound lying next to it and felt her arousal quickly becoming an all-consuming thing which threatened to engulf her entire body.
"It's coming," she gasped, pressing Emmy's face more tightly against her breast and moving her hips more rapidly. "I can feel it building up in my cunt; it's going to happen and there isn't a thing I can do about it. Oh, Emmy, you're fucking me out of my mind!"
Emmy said nothing, since her mouth was crammed full of the girl's hypersensitive breast, but she added her own inventive hip motions to Liz's and clasped the girl's body more firmly in her strong hands. They began thrusting and heaving against each other with a stronger, 'more desperate urgency.
The university they attended was by far the largest in the state and possessed an almost insatiable desire for growth and bigness. The school's administrative officials realized this and weakly struggled to counteract the problems of growth by supplying a well-conceived dormitory counselor program. The central idea of the program was that each dormitory floor had a resident counselor, an older person (usually a graduate student) who tried to look out for and solve the more pressing personal problems of students on that floor. Most of the counselors conscientiously tried to do their job well, though many of them lacked the tact and wisdom needed to perform such a demanding task.
Patricia Hammond, the counselor for the floor that Liz and Emmy lived on, was one of the most diligent counselors in the entire system. To be sure, the sheltered background she had emerged from did not fit her for some of the more bizarre problems that confronted her. Still, she tried.
Liz had caused this young woman many a sleepless night. Why, Patricia asked herself, should so attractive a girl have so few dates? Surely that situation could stand talking about, at least. Thus Patricia had decided that she would have a conference with Liz as soon as possible. It turned out that this meant Friday afternoon, the one during which Emmy had demanded that Liz accompany her to the room and prepare herself for a bout of lesbian love. Patricia little realized what lay before her as she closed her own door and walked down the hallway to the room shared by Emmy and Liz.
She knocked on their door. The gentle rap of her knuckles forced it inward; it had not been latched properly. Patricia gazed idly at the strange scene on Emmy's bed, unable for a moment to comprehend the significance of the writhing bodies. Then, gasping aloud, she slammed the door and ran back to her own room. Panicked, she dialed her own supervisor, an assistant dean of women.
"Miss Hudspeth? Patricia Hammond here," she blurted into the receiver. "There's a terrible thing happening in this dormitory!"
"What is it?" the assistant dean demanded.
"There are a pair of girls in this dorm, they're ..."
"Yes? 'What is it, Patricia?"
"Well, they're in bed together and they're undressed and ... oh, its incredible," she wailed.
"I'll be right over," the cool voice told her.
"I believe either you or I forgot to close the door properly," Emmy said coolly as the door slammed behind the startled counselor.
"Oh, Emmy! What will we do?" Liz whimpered, worried and frightened.
"There's nothing we can do," Emmy replied, calm and resigned. "That nosy bitch is probably calling the dean right this minute."
"What will that mean?"
"We'll be expelled, I should guess."
Liz wailed aloud at that. She, got no comfort from Emmy, who lit a cigarette and began dressing. Liz managed to get a robe pulled about her shoulders before the dreaded knock on their door came. The assistant dean was very calm and businesslike. She established the fact that Patricia had seen them on the bed together, that Liz's face had been buried between Emmy's arched thighs, that they were in fact engaged in the most obvious lesbian relationship. All that admitted, she explained, the .university obviously could not tolerate their presence.
"You can stay here tonight," the woman decreed, "but you must be packed and out by tomorrow noon."
"I think we can be gone in a couple of hours," Emmy replied. "No need to worry yourself."
"I'm sorry you feel that way," the assistant dean snapped.
"Be glad I don't feel bad about it," Emmy answered, her voice cool and deadly calm. "Otherwise I just might cut you a new pussy in your belly!"
The assistant dean and the counselor left at that, deciding to let the girls fend for themselves. Emmy bullied Liz into pulling herself together and packing a couple of suitcases, then throwing the rest of her belongings into a large steamer trunk.
"What'll you do now?" she asked her tearful roommate. "Go back home?"
"Never," Liz sighed. "I could never face my parents. I don't know what to do. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, swing loose, I guess, and see what happens," Emmy muttered. "Got any idea where we might stay tonight? I think I'd rather sit up all night in a bus station than stay in this dump another hour."
"Gee, I don't know," Liz began, then her face brightened. "Say, maybe I do have an idea!"
She explained her friendship with her gym instructor and suggested that Miss Rice might be able to give them some advice. Emmy scoffed at the idea.
"Yeah, I've seen those horse-faced creeps," she sniffed. "Why they're all as queer as a three-dollar bill! Not that I mind that, of course, but they're so blessed homely! No thanks."
"No, really, Emmy, Miss Rice is a very good-looking woman," Liz protested. "I've seen her in the shower and I can tell you, she has a really nice body. And a cute face, too. I think you'll like her, and I really can't believe that she's ... well, like us."
"What do you think lesbians have?" Emmy asked scornfully. "An 'L' tatooed on their forehead or something?"
Liz managed to convince her roommate that it might be worth a telephone call, at least. She placed the call after she'd looked up "Rice, Donna" in the telephone book. It was a difficult moment, explaining that they were in a terrible position and needed some advice, but Miss Rice promised to do everything she could. Liz agreed to take a cab out to her apartment, where they would go into the matter more completely. She studiously avoided telling Miss Rice that they had just been expelled, much less the reason for it.
Half an hour later their cab deposited them in front of the apartment complex. They carried their suitcases into the 'lobby and went up to Miss Rice's floor. She answered their ring quickly and seemingly paid no attention to the fact that they appeared ready to stay a month.
It took Liz a few minutes of stammering and fumbling to convey to Miss Rice the fact that they had just been expelled from the university. Even so, she still did not make clear the reason for that drastic action.
"Oh, by the way, Miss Rice, this is my roommate, Emmy Masters."
Emmy and Miss Rice exchanged a meaningful look; Liz would have sworn that they exchanged a message in some sort of code, except that she knew this idea was too ridiculous to bear thinking about.
"I see," Miss Rice said, after she'd looked at them for a moment. "So you were a little too antsy, too anxious to get in bed, and you forgot to close your door good, or something like that, eh? Am I right?"
Liz gasped with surprise, not understanding how Miss Rice could know this so well.
"That assistant dean, she's called you already!" she gasped.
"I haven't spoken to a dean for months," Miss Rice answered.
"Oh, silly," Emmy broke in gruffly, "don't you see? Donna knows our game; she's in on it herself! It didn't take her long to figure it out!"
"In on it? The game?" Liz asked, uncertain.
"I mean she's one of us!"
Liz looked with surprise at Miss Rice, who smiled calmly and nodded her head..
"Yes, my dear, I'm one of the legion of Lesbos too," the instructor said. "I thought you were leading me on in class, that's why I was playing up to you. But then I'd decided that you were just a tease, that you weren't really going to come across."
"Oh no, Miss Rice," Liz protested, her face a violent red. "I certainly didn't mean anything like that!"
"You see, Liz's new at the game," Emmy explained in her direct fashion. "She hasn't been balling but a month or so. She's a terrific lay, if you like the passive sort, but naive as can be!"
"I see," Miss Rice said, looking contemplatively at Liz. "You seem to have her pretty well locked up, Emmy."
"I don't know about that," Emmy answered. "Some locks will open to more than one key."
"Well, that's after dinner stuff anyway," Miss Rice said firmly. "Suppose we whip up a snack of some sort? You must be starved. We can, er, work all that out after we eat."
They fixed up a skillet full of scrambled eggs, fried some bacon and had a second breakfast. Donna inquired into their plans and discovered that they had none, except a settled resolve not to return to their homes. She said that perhaps she could help them out and give them a start in a new direction.
"Why don't you stay here with me till Monday, at least?" Donna proposed. "I'll call up a friend in Cleveland, a really good girl, and see if she has something for you."
"How many beds do you have here?" Emmy boldly asked, a smirk on her face.
"One. But it's a double," Donna answered, smiling.
"Looks like we . won't have much choice, does it?" Emmy asked Liz.
"I ... I don't know," the girl stammered, her face a dark red. "Would ... would you want us to, you know, with you?"
"If you wanted to, I'd love to have a go at it," Donna said, looking steadily at Liz. "You're a lovely thing, and awfully nice, too. Yes, I'd like to try a round with you. And I'd also like to have a go with you, Emmy."
Liz shuddered slightly at the thought of running her hands over the woman's firm body, of ruffling that great thick muff between her thighs, of putting her lips to that ...
"I don't really know," she whispered, looking helplessly at Emmy. "I like you a lot, Miss Rice, but ... well, I feel kind of tied to Emmy, you know."
"Oh hell, don't be a naive idiot!" Emmy blazed out, her voice thick with contempt. "If you'd like to nuzzle her snatch, go ahead! I certainly won't object! In fact, I think it would be a gas to see you making it with Donna!"
"And by the way," the instructor added, turning to Liz, her voice more kindly, "the name is Donna. Let's drop the Miss Rice crap, shall we?"
"All right, I'll try," Liz murmured.
"Okay, now that we've got that out of the way," Donna said, "what about your parents? What have you told them?"
"Nothing," Emmy replied, speaking for Liz, too. "I suppose I'll drop Mom a card or something. And won't the dean call them up, or notify them somehow?"
"Probably, but you ought to let them hear something," Donna responded to this.
At her prodding, Emmy and Liz wrote short notes to their parents. Liz told her mother only that she had been expelled "for something too awful to think about," that she could not bear to face her family for the time being, that she was going out to the West Coast to look for work, and that they should not worry about her. Emmy's note was much more curt and cool.
The girls cleaned up Donna's kitchen, stowed away the dishes and utensils, and then joined their hostess in the living room. Donna greeted them as they sat down beside her, giving each of them a friendly pat on the thigh.
"Look, dears, I don't want to be pushy, but it's been just ages since I've had a good workout," she said. "What do you say we retire to the bedroom to get things sorted out?"
Emmy replied by standing up and asking the way. She had nothing of the prude or bashful girl in her. Donna led them into her tastefully decorated boudoir, then turned to face them.
"All right," she said, her hands on her hips and her feet widespread. "How are we going to work this?"
"How about flipping a coin to see which one of us you get?" Emmy suggested. "That would make it a bit less embarrassing, perhaps. No, I guess it would be better if I went first; it might help Liz get warmed up if she sees us balling."
"That's a good idea," Donna said. "Want to shower first?"
"No, I like it gamey and . musky." Emmy said, her voice already thickening with desire. "Besides, I didn't get all I wanted this afternoon; that damned counselor stuck her head in just when I was cranking up, for a good one! It's a good thing for you, Liz, that she did, I guess, or otherwise I'd probably have drowned you with come! God, I was hot!"
"Yes, I noticed you were extra ready," Liz murmured.
Donna and Emmy quickly stripped themselves bare as Liz watched. Emmy crowed with delight when she saw Donna's thick, bushy muff.
"Hey, this is great!" she exclaimed as she eyed that luxuriant growth. "You know, Liz, an extra-thick growth of hair usually means that a woman's really passionate! Though I must say, you do pretty well with just that little patch you have!"
"I never put much stock in that old story," Donna objected. "I know that some of the wildest and hottest women I ever had didn't have a muff much bigger than Liz's. But I think you'll find me agreeably responsive!"
Liz decided that Donna had wildly under-stated her capacity for sexual stimulation and response. She watched with wide eyes as the girls fell upon each other with a wild hunger, kissing and rubbing their nipples against each other. Despite her mingled shame and fear, she found herself entranced with and fascinated by the lewd, obscene exhibition taking place on the bed. Her fingers were trembling so she could barely work her zippers and buttons, but she managed to get herself undressed as she watched.
"Ah, you are a hot-assed one," Emmy sighed as Donna gathered her close and ran a hand between her thighs. "And what a cunt! I've never felt one so hot, so juicy! Oh what a woman you are! I'm gonna have to suck you down, I think."
"I was hoping you would," Donna panted. "I just go out of my head when a woman tongues my cunt out. Do you like a tongue running through your pussy?"
"Love it! Just lick it a few times and I'll cream you a mouthful of the good stuff," Emmy muttered, intent upon getting her face down to that great bushy cunt lying between Donna's thighs.' "Lord, what a smell! Liz, this woman is just sex incarnate! She's got a cunt you could eat on for a week!"
The girls were now reversed, lying side by side. Each buried her face between the other's parted thighs. A sound that Liz would never forget, the sound of two mouths simultaneously sucking, kissing and eating two pussies, arose from the bed. Liz fidgeted nervously, strangely moved by the lascivious scene and thoroughly eager to join in the fun. Without realizing it, her right hand stole between her own thighs; she began caressing the blushing lips of her pussy between thumb and forefinger, pulling and tugging gently at the darkening, moistening flesh.
Faster and faster the tempo increased, each girl writhing and grinding her loins into the other's face. Donna, especially, began breathing very fast and hard, interspersing her gasps with frantic moans and sighs. Liz knew when Emmy started to come; she recognized the characteristic way the girl knotted her buttocks up tight, as if trying to squeeze the last drop of oil from her loins, and then began to shudder violently. Donna's reaction was less noticeable, though louder. The intertwined pair heaved and fought their way to an absolute stand-still.
"Whew!" Donna whistled as she rolled over onto her back, her thighs still angled wide apart. "Emmy, you are a pussy licker of the finest degree!"
"God knows, I was hungry enough for a good mouthful," Emmy laughed. "But with a snatch like yours, who wouldn't go ape?"
"Is she really tasty?" Liz asked, now trembling in her eagerness to get into the act.
"Tasty?" Emmy crowed. "Liz, this babe is a full-course meal. all by herself! Just you wait till you get your lip on her!"
"I'm ready to try it," Liz murmured suggestively.
"Then come on!" Donna cried, feeling her spirits revive at the thought of taking on this innocent young girl and leading her through her depraved paces. "I'm just warmed up good, Liz; I'll suck that sweet little hole of yours until you cream your womb out! I'll give you a tongue-fucking you'll never forget!"
"You'll have to go some to beat Emmy," Liz loyally swore.
"What the hell? Even if I come in second, it'll still be fun to try," Donna chortled. "Come on over here, love, and let me get a closer look at you."
Liz lay beside Donna, bold and brazen now that she felt her pussy throbbing with barely contained excitement. She took a good long look at Donna's wanton pussy. The young instructor's muff ran far back between her thighs, completely covering the outer rim of her pussy with a thick growth of long dark hair. The hair, matted and tangled by Emmy's furious lips and the juices Donna had secreted, lay every which way.
Liz parted those tangled strands, brushing them aside so that Donna's full, womanly cunt lay bare before her eyes. The woman's slit, a ripe swelling cleft, ran far back between her legs; its lips were dark and puffy with her barely diminished passion. Liz lifted a finger to that great slit and parted it, opening the wound to reveal the pink inner meat. Donna had a very broad, stubby clitoris, just a perfect size for lip action of the sort Liz planned. Her cunt, a jagged moon-shaped crevice, beckoned in the most enticing manner. Liz could hardly decide where to begin.
Donna decided it by raking her tongue gently through Liz's quivering pussy furrow and then caressing the girl's distended clit. Liz reciprocated and they were off on their suck-fest. They mouthed and tongued each other furiously for a minute or two, then Liz felt her womb begin to tingle and shudder. She thrust herself more vigorously into Donna's warm face, trying to hasten the explosion she longed to feel. At the same time she stiffened her own tongue and shot it deep into the instructor's cunt, bringing a shriek of surprised delight from the woman.
Thus, tongues darting and lips sucking, they brought each other to a violently passionate orgasm. Emmy knelt on the bed beside them, her eyes taking in every move. She tickled her own sensitive little clit, more to keep her pot boiling than to produce anymore pleasure for herself; she suspected, and rightly so, that Donna would be eager to continue their bawdy exercises far into the night.
In fact, it was nearly midnight before the strange trio finally gave up their mutual excitement and went to sleep. Considering that it had been about seven o'clock when they entered the bedroom, Liz told herself as she cuddled up between Donna and Emmy, it had indeed been a strenuous evening!
CHAPTER SIX
Donna had a class at ten the next morning, Saturday, so this left Liz with Emmy. She had been hoping for such a situation and Donna had hardly left when Liz opened up.
"Emmy, I'm a bit disturbed?" she began.
"About what, love? Getting up so early?" Emmy yawned, rolling over and looking at Liz through her long tousled hair.
"No, of course not; you know I'm an early riser," Liz protested. "It's about us."
"So? What about us? We just had a screwing good time last night, that's all."
"Exactly! Doesn't it bother you, I mean, me doing those things with Donna?" Liz asked, her face intent and serious.
"Why should it? Hell, I thought it was exciting, watching you two go at it. And listening, too! That Donna, she really comes big when she gets wound up, doesn't she?"
"No, you don't understand," Liz persisted. "I mean, don't you think I should be, well, more like faithful? I mean, keep it back just for you?"
"Oh, come on, Liz," Emmy snapped, irritated at this turn in the conversation. "We're not married or anything! I can't stand that `love forever' crap. My idea is, you do what you like and I'll follow suit. Of course I like you, maybe I even love you, except I'm not too sure what love is, except a hot pussy. But let's not have any of this fidelity talk, huh?"
Liz agreed to this arrangement, though she had to struggle to choke back her tears. Still, even though she gave in to Emmy, she vowed that she would not promiscuously grant her bodily favors to any and all, as Emmy seemed all too ready to do. In particular, she vowed to herself that no man's prick would ever enter those sacred portals that Emmy's hand and lips fitted so nicely against.
The girls sealed their bargain with a passionate kiss, one that led quickly to the easily imaginable consequences. Within minutes they were panting heavily and crushing their stiffened nipples against each other with heated passion.
"God, I feel masculine this morning," Emmy muttered heavily. "What would you say to a spell of flat-fucking, sweetmeat?"
Liz agreed quickly to this, as she agreed to anything that Emmy proposed. She rolled over onto her back, stuffing a pillow under her broad hips to elevate her sex to the proper angle, and then opened her arms and thighs to her lover. Emmy slipped into that warm embrace, fitting herself between those meaty thighs and nestling her furry love mound into the sweating, heated cleft of Liz's lusty slit.
"Hmm," Liz moaned as she felt the bony mass of Emmy's love mound snuggle into the aching meat of her cunt, "I really think this is the best way of all."
"Yes, I like it too," Emmy muttered. "Now grab me tight with your legs and fuck away! Yes, give me that love grind! Work your cunt into me; I want to feel you come!"
"Yes, darling Emmy, I'll fuck away at you," Liz moaned, putting her lips next to her friend's ear. "I'll work it until I cover your belly with juice and then I'll lick it off for you! Oh, I love to feel you close to me!"
Fervent language like this, as well as what followed, could not long deny them relief. The strong movements they generated had their effect, too, with the result that Liz quickly lifted her knees high around Emmy's tense body, opening her pussy up more directly to the girl's pressing pelvic bone, and began to come with sobbing moans. Feverish and frantic, Liz rolled her body from side to side, rocking her lover between her thighs. Emmy, brought to a tumultuous climax merely by the violence of Liz's orgasm, grunted fiercely and whipped her clenched buttocks up and down, visualizing to herself how it would be if she had a long, stiff masculine prick rearing out of her loins. She tried to imagine the sensation of her imaginary balls as they tightened up and then pumped forth their cloud of hot paste, shooting the gooey come deep into Liz's womb. The vision made her wild with joy and she ground her body down mercilessly upon the gasping girl beneath her.
Liz and Emmy were still locked in each other's arms when Donna returned, shortly before noon. She walked into her bedroom and complimented them on their quick recovery from the love feast of the night before.
"Say, that's what I like to see," she said, "a pair of girls that really like to ball! I was afraid you two might be turned off sex after that orgy we had."
"How little you know," Emmy assured her. "We've been at it since nine-thirty or ten, I guess. And can't see the end yet! I'm telling you, Donna, this chick just doesn't wear out!"
"How about letting me have a round with her before lunch?"
"Okay, have at it," Emmy said, easily disengaging herself from Liz's possessive embrace. "I'd like to shower anyway; wash some or the cunt off. Come on, Liz, be a dear and give Donna a tussle, will you?"
Liz felt a bit put off at being handed about from one lover to another so casually, but she swallowed her resentment and accepted Donna into her arms with no complaints. That set the tone for the weekend: first Donna, then Emmy brought her soaring up to the peaks of lust's mountain and toppled her off into that bottomless pit of pleasure; then Donna and Emmy pleasured each other while Liz rested. In between these delirious bouts, they snacked and amused themselves in other parts of the house. By nightfall, poor Liz could hardly move. Her breasts were nearly raw from the nips and kisses planted upon them; her legs ached; her sex seemed to have lost all its feeling.
"Yeah, I guess even I've had enough sex to last a day or so," Donna said as she pulled herself off the girl's tired body. "Gee, I don't know when I've had such a good time!"
"You're something else," Emmy complimented her. "Pity I didn't know about you before!"
"Isn't it so? Say, do you know of any other swinging girls? Maybe I could strike up an arrangement for when you two are gone," Donna asked.
Emmy had to confess that she knew of no other girls who shared their bizarre tastes. She raised the question of what Donna had thought of in the way of taking care of their future.
"Yes, I've been thinking about that," Donna said. "What about this? I have a good friend up in Cleveland, a chick named Leslie Raker. Tremendous lay, though she's really aggressive and tough, if you go for that kind. She runs a dance studio up there and is making just a barrel of money at it. I've got a feeling she might be able to line you up something."
"I don't know anything about dancing," Emmy pointed out.
"You don't have to. She might teach you enough so that you could start stripping, or maybe making it as a go-go girl," Donna replied. "Maybe you and Liz could work together, get up some kind of joint act."
"Stripping, huh? I never thought of that," Emmy said quietly.
"Leslie tells me there are some real swinging babes in that line. Says they're ninety percent on our side, if you know what I mean. Now that's a laugh in itself: here these girls are, out tickling the fancies of horny men, and they couldn't care less about what a man's got on his mind!" Donna laughed cruelly at the incongruity she had described.
"And Leslie, she's straight lez?" Emmy asked.
"Oh, mostly but not totally," Donna answered. "I mean, she'll open it up for a man, but she really starts living when it's a woman under her!"
Donna placed a call to Cleveland and had Leslie on the line within minutes. They chatted for a while, then Donna put the proposition to the other woman. Leslie agreed to lend a hand.
"She's all up for it," Donna said after hanging up the phone. "You can take a bus up Monday, or tomorrow even, and she'll put you up while you're learning some basic routines. I imagine she'll be a big help in lining up jobs and things like that, too. Plus all that, she'll just work your little pussy over until you'll swear it's got a life of its own!"
"Sounds good," Emmy smiled. "I can hardly wait!"
Emmy described the arrangement to Liz later in the evening after the girl woke up. Liz, tired and worried, would probably have agreed to anything by that time; she told Emmy that she would be as willing to go to Cleveland and be a burlesque dancer as to do anything else. She and Emmy decided to go up to Cleveland Sunday afternoon. Donna urged them to stay over until Monday morning but Emmy seemed insistent on getting to Cleveland, so finally Donna gave in and agreed to drive them down to the bus station the next afternoon.
"That still gives me fifteen hours or so," she said, eyeing both the girls. "And I believe I feel another hot spell coming over me!"
By Sunday at noon the trio had spent an incredible amount of time in bed, toying with each other and exciting each other. They ended up with a three-way experiment, one that found Liz stretched out between Donna's churning thighs, kissing her to distraction, and Emmy crouched over her face, grinding her dripping cunt into the instructor's hungry mouth. Thus serviced at both ends, so to speak, Donna finally found the culminating experience she had been seeking. Heaving and grunting, she writhed her way to yet another passionate orgasm, one that left her trembling.
"That was just wonderful!" she sighed as Emmy and Liz lay down beside her to recuperate. "I guess that's what I've been looking for all along. First time I ever balled with two girls at once."
Liz and Emmy rested for a while, then showered and dressed for the trip. Donna called up the station to see when a bus would be leaving. She learned that a bus would depart within the hour. A flurry of activity set in, culminating in their arrival at the station just in time.
"Now, that girl was a lesbian," Emmy remarked to Liz as they settled down for the two-hour ride. "If you want to know what a true-blue lez is like, just look at Donna."
"Why not look at us?" Liz asked. "We're just like her."
"Not at all," Emmy insisted. "I'm not about to give up going out with men, in spite of what they want to do to me."
They debated the subject almost to Mansfield, or about halfway, then dropped it. Emmy, ever the sly and sexy one, began rubbing the back of her hand against Liz's exposed thigh in an effort to stimulate the girl. The effort was not in vain.
"Emmy, stop! Somebody will see!" Liz whispered, though she didn't pull her leg away.
"Nobody will see," Emmy answered scorn-fully. "And what if they do? Who cares? Nobody that I care about! Besides, I was just thinking about how good it might be to feel those thighs of yours grabbing my face again!"
"Don't, please don't," Liz begged. "You know it just drives me wild for you to say things like that! Oh, Emmy, in spite of all we did this weekend, of how many times we did it, I'm still hungry for you! Oh, I'd love to cream on your face!"
"That's what I like to hear," Emmy hissed. "Now just open up a little more and I'll get my finger in your honey pot ..."
"No! We can't, we just can't!" Liz protested. "I've got panties on, you can't get to it. And we mustn't, anyway!"
Liz pulled her leg away from the delicious hand this time, lending some force to her refusal to play along. Emmy would not be totally denied, however, and for the rest of the trip she kept Liz in a state of constant low-grade passion, talking and occasionally slipping in a tingling little caress. By the time the bus pulled into its berth in Cleveland, Liz could hardly stand on her trembling, sex-starved legs. She was sure that her overflowing sex had drenched her panties with her passion oils and spotted the back of her skirt, though Emory assured her that nothing showed.
They grabbed a hamburger in the bus station's cafeteria, then called up Leslie. Emmy did the talking. Leslie invited them to come right over to her apartment, which was not far away. They took a cab and drove to the address, then carried their suitcases up to the third-floor apartment.
"Darlings!" Leslie greeted them. "Don't tell me, I can surely guess from what Donna said. You must be Emory, so that makes you Liz. Am I right?"
She had identified them correctly. Liz sat quietly once they were inside. She watched Emory carry on a conversation with the woman and studied Leslie. The woman wore a pair of tight black Capri pants, a pair of shiny vinyl boots, which came up to her knees and a skin-tight black sweater. She appeared to be very well built, though of course slender, as befits a professional dancer. Liz found herself wondering what it would be like, making love with a person whose body was trained to move rhythmically, to assume strained positions, whose muscles were finely tuned and active. Leslie was very tail, perhaps five-ten or thereabouts; her legs seemed twice as long as those of most girls.
"And so this is Liz," Leslie said, turning to her. "My, what a little churchmouse! So shy! But extremely good-looking, too."
"I imagine she's still seething," Emmy explained. "We worked up a little love sweat on the way up."
"Oh you wench!" Leslie cried to Emmy. "You mean you made out right there on the bus? How brazen!"
"No, we didn't get that far," Emmy said. "We just got the pot to boil a little, didn't we, Liz?"
Liz nodded mutely. She desperately wanted to cry out to Emmy, to tell her to keep it between themselves, to keep something for themselves. But Emmy seemed intent upon throwing her into Leslie's arms.
"What a lovely idea!" Leslie cried out. "Getting her warmed up for the welcome, eh? Come here, my dear, let's have a closer look."
Liz joined Leslie on the low couch, drawn to the older woman, yet reluctant to make the move. Leslie stood her up and began undressing her, marveling as she worked.
"Mm, what a lovely smooth skin! Peaches and cream have nothing to show you, my dear. Ah, and those breasts! Carved from marble, they could be ... and my, just look at those nipples! Oh, Liz, you are a beauty! How did you ever manage to keep her to yourself so long, Emmy?"
"Just lucky, I guess," Emmy commented, watching Leslie with rapt admiration.
Liz felt uncomfortable at being undressed so abruptly by a woman she'd never seen before an hour ago, though she realized that her body was responding to the expert touches, to the very detailed praise that Leslie was giving it. She wondered at herself, devoted to Emmy as she was yet also capable of being stirred so easily by a virtual stranger. It occurred to her that there was something strange in being thus handled and appraised by Leslie, almost as if the woman were unpacking a work of art which she cherished, deeply appreciated, yet could view objectively, as if from a distance.
Leslie now unhooked Liz's skirt and let it fall to the floor. Then she slid down the girl's half-slip; Liz now stood dressed only in her panties. Luckily she had given in to Emmy's pleas earlier in the month and thrown out all her sensible, plain cotton panties, replacing them with daringly low-cut nylon garments cut along the lines of an extremely abbreviated bikini bottom. The frilly black pair she now wore barely covered the hair of her sex.
"Now we get to the really good part," Leslie muttered, almost visibly licking her lips as she looked greedily at Liz. "I can hardly wait, Liz; I know you'll be so good for me! But here goes nothing ... I must see you naked, my dear!"
Leslie slipped her index fingers into the waist of the skimpy panties, hooking the top and gently working the garment down over the tops of Liz's thighs. The woman's mouth formed a silent, "Oh!" as the furry love mound was bared, as she got a close look at the partially obscured sex furrow nestled beneath the growth of youthful fuzz.
"Ah, it does look good," Leslie whispered. "Looks like you've got a very high clit, Liz; that's good! I always ball better with that kind of girl. Oh, my darling, I can tell right now that you're going to drive me to distraction! Here, let me get these panties pulled down, yes, like that!"
Liz stepped out of the panties. as they fell about her ankles. Leslie seized her by the backs of her thighs and forced her to stand erect, displaying all her tender charms. The older woman's eyes glittered with concentrated, passionate lust.
"Tell me, Liz," she whispered in a strained voice, "how would you like to come with me into my bedroom? We could go in there, just you and me, and I'd lay you back on my bed. Then I'd cover all your lovely body with kisses, I'd kiss you until you were positively screaming for me to finish you off! Then I'd strip for you. I'd do a really slow strip, one that would leave you gasping with hunger! Then I'd come back to you, on the bed, and lie over you. I'd spread those lovely thighs of yours apart; I'd put a pillow under your hips; I'd get between your thighs and then I'd fit myself to you in a very special, very exciting way that I know. I'd make love to you, darling Liz, until you were absolutely delirious with lust!"
"I ... I think that would be great," Liz murmured, blushing and stammering. She felt awed by the passionate intensity of the older woman.
"Then let's do it!" Leslie hissed. "God, I'm so hungry for you! I'm so tired of these tramps around here; it's be marvelous to find someone I can really care for, whom I really want to make out with!"
Liz followed her into the bedroom. Emmy appeared totally oblivious to their leaving the room, Liz decided as she looked over at her friend, who was sitting across the room engrossed in a movie magazine. Leslie led Liz up to the huge bed that dominated the sparsely furnished room, then pressed her back upon the blanket covering it.
"Ah yes, my dear," she murmured as Liz fell back upon the thick blanket. "Just hold that pose, let me see that little twat of yours. Mmm, what a beauty! I suppose Emmy's told you this a thousand times, but you really do have a beautiful pussy, Liz. And it looks so alive! I can see where you've been dripping out some of that good pussy juice! Was it for me, because of me, that you dripped? What a lovely idea, if it was! Oh, Liz, I just have to taste you; I can't help myself! May I?"
"Yes, if you'd like," Liz whispered. "I like that."
"Good! There's nothing like a kiss on the clit to get a girl really in the mood for some delicious games," Leslie muttered as she stretched out between Liz's thighs.
Liz immediately noticed that Leslie's oral technique was quite different from Emmy's. Where Emmy favored the direct, brutal approach, Leslie employed the teasing, delicate touch. Liz found herself unable to decide which of the two excited her the most, though she suspected that the insidious appeal of Leslie's, sly methods might work better in the long run.
She lay expecting the sudden onslaught of violent, tongue-probing kisses that Emmy had accustomed her to, but found instead that Leslie was only flicking her forefinger over the hair growing out of her throbbing pussy. Even so, the acutely passionate state of that organ made her highly sensitive to even that slight touch. She found herself wanting, indeed hungering for, a more direct caress.
"Mmm," she groaned, unable to control her voice. "So good, do it harder!"
"All in good time, my dear," Leslie purred, satisfied that she was working her magic in a satisfactory manner. "You'll get it when I decide that you need. it, not a second before. You must learn that when I put the make to a girl, I run the show!"
"All right," Liz whispered, abashed by Leslie's determined tone. "Whatever you say."
Leslie continued to flick her finger lightly over the fur encrusting Liz's sex. Gradually she began to touch the livid, distended lips swelling out around the little cleft; Liz shivered and moaned as she felt this new caress. Despite all she could do, her hips insisted on beginning to bob up and down, to and fro; they seemed determined to swing into action in the way that passionate women work their bodies.
Leslie noted this, a reaction that she found quite familiar, and smiled grimly. The girl was coming around, she decided, and the session was developing into a very satisfactory one. It was time to raise the ante a bit, according to her calculations. Thus she touched her lips to the insides of Liz's upraised thighs, kissing them very gently.
Liz responded with a sensual moan, a sigh of utter approval. Leslie's lips swooped up and down those columns of sturdy flesh, working on the delicate nerve endings in the girl's thighs and raising her vaginal temperature a good ten degrees at least. Closer and closer her lips moved to the magic furrow, though she studiously avoided bringing her mouth into contact with the girl's pussy.
Liz's pussy now flowed a steady stream of maidenly oils, a clear liquid that seeped out of the little furrow and bathed the outer lips of that livid gash with a musky, intoxicating liquid. Leslie smelled the lusty aroma, obviously, and found herself being irrestibly drawn to it. She tried to resist for a moment or two but finally gave in and moved her face closer.
Using just the tip of her tongue, she touched the fuzz decorating that tender flesh. Liz quivered and groaned miserably when she felt the touch; she hungered for one of those brutal, driving kisses that Emmy used so well!
"Oh God, Leslie," she whimpered, "do it to me! I'm going to burst wide open if you don't do something; I'm dying with it! Please, please suck me off and make me come!"
"That's the way," Leslie grunted, removing her lips for a minute. "I like to hear a woman ask for it! That really turns me on!"
She resumed her light kisses as Liz let loose a volley of pleas for a more fervent and satisfying treatment. Leslie allowed herself the luxury of running her tongue-tip into that juicy wound between Liz's trembling thighs; the girl reacted with a fierce thrust of her loins that would have ground her agonized pussy into the woman's face, had she not pulled back just in time.
"Oh, no, you don't," Leslie laughed grimly. "You're not fucking my face till I get ready for it!"
"Oh please get ready then," Liz cried out. "Honest, I'm getting cramps! I feel like I'll die if you don't, or maybe I'll just do it to myself!"
"Don't you dare," Leslie ordered in a most peremptory manner. "You're mine and you'll come when I make you, not before!"
However, Leslie was sufficiently worked up to start undressing. Poor Liz had to lie back and watch the erotic way the woman slipped her clothes off, all the while fighting off the terrible temptation to seize her throbbing clit in her hands and bring herself to a satisfying climax. Her hips continued to bob up and down slightly, as if unable to remain still.
Leslie had an extremely attractive body, Liz realized dimly. True, it was a muscular one, and her breasts were rather too small to be really fashionable, but Leslie certainly exuded an erotic attraction. Possibly the most exciting thing, Liz felt, was the especially prominent love mound that jutted out sharply from between the woman's trim thighs. Never had she seen a pelvic bone quite so prominent, or so thicky matted with dark fur.
As Leslie stepped closer to the bed and toyed momentarily with that dark patch of hair, Liz noted with surprise that the woman's clitoris was even more strikingly developed, at least, she supposed that it was a clitoris peeping out of the crimson-hued gash that Leslie's prying fingers had unclosed beneath that patch of hair.
"Now, my darling Liz," Leslie whispered hoarsely, "I'm going to introduce you to my speciality. I don't do this with just every girl that comes along; I save it for my very special friends!"
"Wh-what are you going to do?" Liz inquired timidly.
"My darling, I'll show you what a flat-fuck is," Leslie said.
"What's that?"
"Ah, I thought you'd never had one of those, probably!" Leslie crowed in triumph. "Well, just you lie back there and you'll see!"
Leslie made Liz stuff a pillow under her buttocks, elevating her loins high off the bed.
"This'll give us a better angle to work on each other," Leslie said. "All you have to do is just lie back there and follow me."
Leslie lay over Liz, fitting herself between the girl's uplifted thighs. She positioned herself so that the hard bone of her pelvis fitted snugly against the swollen, tender-sore meat of Liz's pussy.
"Now, my dear, you just lock your legs around me and do what comes naturally," Leslie whispered as she fastened her lips to Liz's sensitive shoulders. "Just fuck up at me, that's all you do. And when I feel you start to come, then I'll let go myself; that's the best way to do it."
"Oh, sort of like if you were a man, eh?"
"Have you been with men before?"
"No, but I have an idea what you do with them," Liz assured her.
"Good," Leslie said approvingly. "I've fucked them before but it was always a chore. This is the only way to give your cunt a treat!"
"Yes, I feel it already," Liz panted hoarsely, writhing and pressing her throbbing nipples into Leslie's hard chest. "God, I feel it! Oh Leslie, I can feel your clit digging into my cunt, I think I"
"Yes, that's the idea," Leslie whispered into the girl's ear. "And if you raise your knees up around my shoulders, you can feel it even better! There, that's the way; it elevates your pussy more, doesn't it? Now, do you feel my button. going in you? Tell me you do!"
"Yes, yes, I can feel it!" Liz cried out, her voice thick with clotted passion. "I can feel you going into my cunt! And oh! Your hair! It's rubbing into my clit, it's killing me with love! God, I'm coming! I feel it now, oh do I ever feel it!"
Liz's cries trailed off into incomprehensible moans as she' worked her clutching pussy against the woman's bony pelvis, as she felt the hard little finger of a clit digging into her sensitive flesh. With rapidly increasing speed she threw her loins up to the woman's driving sex, rubbing herself into that mature, womanly cock with grunts and shrill cries of youthful joy.
Leslie, pleased beyond description by this enthusiastic and erotic response to her skillful treatment, bent her face down to one of the girl's swollen breasts and seized a rock-hard, lust-darkened nipple in her lips. Liz almost disolved into a fury of sexual satisfaction when she felt this added stimulus. She gave one last cry of agonized delight, then gathered herself up to Leslie and shuddered convulsively. Leslie worked herself to a foaming climax against the girl'. trembling body, a climax that found her own cunt throbbing and flooding out a heavier, muskier stream of cunt-drippings that inundated Liz's more girlish cunt.
The women lay silently for a time, breathing hard and whimpering as the last of the orgasmic thrills ran through their satiated bodies. At last Leslie gave a mighty sigh and pulled herself up off Liz, looking very pleased and satisfied with herself and her performance.
"Well, how was it?" she asked, as if she knew the answer already. "What do you think of flat-fucking now?"
"Just wonderful," Liz whispered, trying to get her eyes back into focus. "I felt like I was coming for just hours and hours."
"Now there's just one more step we must take," Leslie said after getting this reassurance.
"What's that?" Liz asked.
"The ladylike thing to do is to kiss what just brought you to such heights of pleasure," Leslie said evenly. "Would you like to do that for me?"
"Sure," Liz said. "I don't mind kissing a cunt, especially if it's part of someone I really like. And I think I'm going to like you a lot, Leslie."
"Wonderful! Suppose you just have at it, then?" Leslie lay back on her bed, her thighs opened wide for the girl's easier access. Liz moved around on the bed until she could get her face between those muscular limbs. The sight of the full, womanly cunt lying in that intimate valley stirred her senses, sated though she was.
"Do you know," she whispered to the woman, "I think this is the first woman's pussy I ever saw? I mean, apart from my own and Emmy's, of course, but we're not nearly so well-developed as you."
Liz saw there a long, full-lipped oval of sex flesh, one heavily whiskered and thoroughly damp with pussy juices. The extraordinarily long cut had gone down, due to the ferocity of Leslie's orgasm. Liz opened the slit with her fingers, curious to see what the inside looked like. To her surprise, she found it almost a duplicate of her own. She had imagined, from the larger outer lips, that the cunt opening would have been equally proportioned, but it was merely a tiny, moon-shaped gap much like her own. The woman's clit was now no larger than a wart; she found it difficult to believe that it had once reared out to such an unusual length.
Liz brought her face closer to the woman's slit. The reeking flesh excited her senses; she found herself wanting to devour the flesh, to suck it dry, to flood her mouth with the mingled sex oils bathing that hairy gap. She fastened her lips to the nether lips that Leslie held out for her, running her tongue briskly over the meat and tasting their secretions. Leslie groaned hard, as if Liz were giving her the ultimate in sexual pleasure, and rubbed her lathered pussy into the girl's face for a moment, or two. Then she lay back, relaxed and satisfied.
"That's enough, my dear," she said, a smile lighting up her face. "I just wanted a little of that."
"All right," Liz agreed as she removed her face. "How was I? Good? I wanted to be good for you."
"You were marvelous!" Leslie told her. "So responsive, so eager for it! Just the sort of partner I like the most, that's all. But now we must talk. Why don't you get Emmy in here and we'll have a conference?"
Liz went back into the living room to find her roommate. Emmy was still sitting in her chair, reading movie magazines.
"Hi," she said, looking up. "Have a good one?"
"Yes, I guess so," Liz told her. "I felt kind of funny about doing it with her, what with you in the next room and all, but ..."
"Shit!" Emmy said explosively. "Liz, you've got to get out of that possessive, one-woman attitude! It just won't do! I was afraid you might balk at screwing with Leslie, and then where would we have been? Right out in the street! No, you go down whenever you can, with whomever you can, that's my view."
"I'll try," Liz promised. "But right now she wants to see us. Come on, she's still in the bedroom."
Emmy followed Liz into the bedroom. Leslie had not moved from her reclining position. Emmy scrutinized the older woman carefully but covertly, taking in all her naked charms with a darting look.
"Like it?" Leslie asked, quite aware of what Emmy had done.
"You've got a very nice body," the girl commented.
"Maybe you'll get a chance to find out later on," Leslie said.
"Maybe I will."
"Okay, but that's for later," Leslie laughed. "Right now, what about your futures? The idea I had was that you could bunk in here for a couple of weeks or so, until you get settled in good. I'll give you a quick course in stripteasing and go-go dancing, stake you to some outfits and help you find a job."
"That sounds awfully generous of you," Liz complimented her.
"Glad to do it for a friend," Leslie said. "Especially friends like you two!"
"Is it very hard to learn?" Liz asked. "The dances, I mean. I've seen a few go-go girls in action but I never saw a striptease in my life."
"There's nothing to it," Leslie assured her. "Anybody can pick it up in a minute or two. I'll show you tomorrow morning."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leslie started dance lessons for the girls at ten o'clock the next morning. Her studio was deserted, the first class not coming in till one o'clock, that afternoon, so they had the big room to themselves. Two walls of the instruction room were covered with mirrors, enabling them to get a full view of their bodies as they worked.
"If there's no one there, I think I'll just go out in the raw," Emmy remarked as they prepared for the lesson.
"Oh, I couldn't do that," Liz protested. "I'm going to put on these jeans and a sweatshirt."
Leslie approved of Emmy's nudity, though she herself had put on the black leotard she normally used for her instructor's role. She explained the theory of stripteasing and go-go dancing briefly, pointing out that the main point was to appeal to the men in the audience.
"That isn't hard to do, not if you have a good body and a revealing costume," she laughed. "That, plus a few rather explicit movements."
"Explicit? How?" Liz asked.
"Maybe I should say `sex-plicit,' that would be closer to the truth," Leslie laughed. "You see, the real idea is to suggest the sexual act to the audience; that's the heart of this kind of dancing!"
"How do you do that?" Liz naively asked.
Emmy snorted impatiently at. the foolish question and said she'd demonstrate. She did so in the most direct and vulgar manner, by simply spreading her feet wide apart, flexing her knees slightly, and throwing her hips into that bump grind motion that Liz knew and loved so well.
"Why, it's just like making love!" she gasped, "except that you're standing up and you don't have a partner!"
"Exactly!" Leslie cried. "You've got the idea in a nutshell, my dear. All you have to do is to learn a few transitional movements to go with the basic step, or maybe the basic hump, I might say, and then be able to put it into time with the music and you're in business. Here let me put on a record and we'll try it out."
Leslie put a slow sensual blues number on her record machine and demonstrated her precepts. Emmy joined in with her own variations and then Liz found herself drawn toward them, feeling a strong urge to emulate their frankly bawdy movements. They worked for more than an hour, trying out variations on the basic step and convincing Leslie that they would easily be professional dancers in a short time.
"Oh course, for the faster songs, you sort of do a takeoff on the frug, or the watusi, or the dog, or some dance like that," Leslie explained. "But most of those dances, they're derived from the sex motion anyway, so that's no problem. Just remember to put lots of life into it, throw your arms and head about, and you'll' go over good, I promise you!"
This completed their dance instruction for the day. Leslie told them to wander around downtown Cleveland that afternoon, taking in the city and seeing the sights.
"I've got classes solid from two till six tonight," she explained, "and then a dinner date. I won't be free until eleven or so, but by that time we might be ready for some more fun and games, huh?"
The girls admitted that such might indeed be the case and then went to change into street clothes. Emmy showered first, while Liz lay out to catch her breath; she had found that this energetic dancing was hard work. Then she showered and joined Emmy on a tour of the big city.
They grabbed a hamburger at a White Tower somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, but spent most of their time just looking and window-shopping. They passed by a garishly lit burlesque house, one advertising "Girls! Girls! Girls!"
"Let's go in and see what the competition's like," Emmy suggested. "What do you say? The admission's only a buck-fifty, so let's give it a try."
Liz, willing to do anything with Emmy, agreed, and the girls quickly found themselves seated near the front of the near-empty theater. An act was in progress when they entered; it was a solo strip by a brassy and busty blonde who looked as though she might have been thirty. She was stripped down to a bra, a bespangled triangle of cloth over each of her large boobs, and a gauze loincloth that hung down below her knees.
"She's been around, I'd say," Emmy whispered as they seated themselves and took stock of the woman's act.
"I'll go along with that!" Liz agreed. "But my, look at the way she shakes it! How much more explicit could you get?"
The blonde had taken up a position in the very center of the stage, her feet spread wide and her hands positioned on her broad buttocks. She was rocking her torso back and forth, just as if she were flat on her back and throwing her sex up at a lover posed just above her. At the same time she writhed her shoulders, suggesting that she was trying to rub her bulbous nipples into the lover's chest; the effect was quite direct and specific. The gauze loincloth flipped back and forth madly as she flung her loins forward and back in a wildly exaggerated caricature of the sexual motion.
"Ah, now she's going to take some more off," Emmy commented as the blonde broke off that routine and whirled into some waltzing steps. "Yes, there goes that bra. She's got pasties on her nipples. Mmm, those are not bad boobs, you know?"
"I like yours better," Liz whispered, loyal to the last. "But I'll have to admit, they're not bad."
Liz and Emmy watched four more strippers come forth and do their routine; all but one of the girls were obviously bored and tired of their work. The exception, a young girl of perhaps eighteen, came out dressed, like a jungle man's woman, clearly patterned after Tarzan's Jane, and managed to suggest the ferocity of a caged animal during her stint on the stage. Her act concluded with her stripped down to pasties over her nipples and the very briefest of G-strings, standing brazenly on the stage and managing to suggest that she was masturbating herself with great effect.
The comedians had their turn next; Emmy insisted that they leave rather than endure that line of corny patter. During the strip routines she had kept her hand buried deep between Liz's thighs, taking advantage of the darkness and of the fact that the girl had not worn any panties that day.
"I'm glad I talked you out of wearing panties this morning," she said to Liz as they walked up the street from the burlesque theater. "It's nice, being able to reach in there and get a handful of that juicy twat of yours!"
"I like it too," Liz admitted with a blush. "But, gee, Emmy, it makes me feel funny for you to feel me up in public like that!"
"Who would notice? Didn't you see all the men there? You couldn't have gotten their eyes off the girls, or their hands out of their trousers, for anything in the world!"
"In their trousers?"
"Sure, don't you ever see anything?" Emmy asked scornfully. "Why that's all they do there, just sit and jerk off! I used to go to a theater back home; guys would give me a dollar sometimes to handle their cock while they watched the girls. Easy money, that was!"
"Emmy! I ... I couldn't think of such a thing!" Liz gasped.
"Nobody asked you to," Emmy snapped, irritated by Liz's ladylike daintiness.
After a few minutes of silence, Liz tried to break the icy cool that Emmy's hot temper had thrown up between them.
"Say," she began. "Those girls, especially that last one, you know when they got stripped down to the last part, those little things didn't cover much of their sex."
"Yeah, I noticed," Emmy said, calm again. "And that last girl particularly -- Toni Stander, the emcee called her -- touch chick, that was. What about her G-string?"
"Why didn't any hair show? It wasn't big enough to cover up much," Liz pointed out.
"Silly, those girls all shave it off!"
"Really! I guess it does make sense, though," Liz mused. "I guess we'll have to get a shave too, then, if we go into that kind of work?"
"Bet your life we will," Emmy said. "The cops get down on you in a hurry if you show even one hair in those joints. That's not a bad idea, Liz! I think it might be sexy, even."
"What do you mean?" Liz asked, not following Emmy's line of thought.
"If we were to shave each other! Yeah, I like that a lot! Come on, let's beat it back to Leslie's and we'll give it a try. God, I'm hot anyway; I think I just might try wearing you out!"
They hurried back to the apartment, used the key Leslie had given them to get in, and put Emmy's lascivious little plan to work. Emmy found the electric shaver she used for her legs; they discovered that it shaved a pubic mound quite as readily as a calf, and that the vibrations of the whirring razor even generated a strange kind of sexual pleasure. That pleasure, be it noted, was nowhere near as satisfying, as exhausting, as the kind they proceeded to generate within themselves during the next two hours. By the time Leslie returned from her dinner engagement, the girls had pleasured each other into an intoxicated euphoria, a condition which the older woman tried her best to emulate. It was two o'clock that morning before they finally stretched their weary, lust-sated bodies upon the bed and fell asleep.
In the course of the next week, Leslie found the girls making extraordinarily fast progress in their learning of basic strip and go-go dancing. She applauded Emmy's initiative in shaving off their pubic hair, though she wistfully said she'd loved to have had the joy of denuding Liz's fat-lipped little love mound. She rummaged through a closet and found a pair of stripteaser's costumes that fitted them, then showed them how the various hooks, eyes, and zippers worked.
Emmy, curiously enough, proved to be less adept at stripping than Liz. Leslie decided that the drawback to Emmy's style was her straightforward and lascivious nature, qualities which fit a lover better than a stripper.
"The idea is," she explained to Emmy, "that you're teasing them along. But you, you want to get everything off and get down to business too quickly! Believe me, it works better if you stretch it out and make 'em wait for the goodies, like Liz does. I know, she dawdles along because she's shy and bashful, but on the stage it's much more effective!"
"Huh!" Emmy snorted. "You're just saying that because you like to ball with her!"
Leslie finally convinced Emmy that caution had its place, on the stage if not in bed. Liz showed some reluctance to adopt the exaggerated movements that stripping required, a failing that Emmy noted and commented upon freely.
"But it just seems so ... so Iewd," Liz protested, trying to preserve some of her dignity. "I just hate to throw myself around like that! And it's so false anyway; people don't really do like that when they're making love!"
"You're right, of course," Leslie told her, "but this is the stage, dear! Everything's exaggerated. Remember, those clods in the audience, they like it wild and bigger than life! Just keep that in mind and throw your precious little twat out at them, that's all there is to it."
It was almost two weeks after their arrival that Leslie greeted them at dinner one night with the announcement that she had gotten them a job for Saturday night.
"Are we really ready for a job?" Emmy asked skeptically.
"Sure, as ready as you'll ever be! This is at an Elk's lodge down at Parma; they're having a smoker. You'll be on for about an hour and then we'll have a little coming out party for you after."
Emmy and Liz had been working on a routine in which they appeared together. The idea was to suggest, without actually depicting, the lesbian relationship between them. The Parma Elks loved it and would hardly let them leave the tiny stage once they had bumped and ground their way to the shuddering conclusion.
"Hey, that went over real good," Emmy said with some surprise as they made their way to the improvised dressing room.
"Probably because you threw so much of yourself into it," Liz replied.
"No, I think it was both of us," Emmy admitted. "Especially you; there at the end, you got really energetic, I'd have sworn you were having yourself a little come if I hadn't known better."
"That shows how much you know," Liz laughed, "because that's just what I did have!"
"Really?" Emmy could hardly believe the girl's admission. "Oh, what a groovy thing' However did you do it?"
"I don't know," Liz confessed. "I was just up there going at it, and the music was so suggestive, and you were so beautiful, across from me there. I just imagined what it would be like if you were kneeling on the floor in front of me, pressing your lips into my cunt and kissing me like you do. I kept that in mind and before I knew it, there I went!"
"Liz, you're a love." Emmy laughed.
Leslie was waiting to congratulate them when they got back to the tiny closet they used for a dressing room. She bubbled over with enthusiasm, praising them for the erotic fervor of their performance.
"My dears, you wouldn't believe the nice things I heard about you," she began. "Why the president of the club himself complimented me, and let me assure you, Fred Hargen is very difficult to please. He promised me that he'd fork over $200 for an evening with either one of you, that's how much he liked it!"
"$200?" Liz asked. "You mean, to go to bed with him? Stuff like that?"
"That's just what I mean," Leslie said. "Interested? He's not a bad sort; I've been down with him myself. If you want to have a bash with him, I'll split the two hundred with you right down the middle."
"No thanks," Liz said emphatically. "Not for five hundred, I wouldn't let a man stick that awful thing in me!"
"I just might be willing to have a go with him," Emmy said, sneering at Liz's compunctions. "Especially for a hundred bucks!"
"I'll see what I can arrange," Leslie promised. "But first, we have other things on tap for. tonight, my dears."
She went on to explain that she had arranged a party to celebrate their debut in the entertainment world. The festivities would begin as soon as they could get back to the studio, she said, and would last until all hours.
"Who'll be there?" Emmy wanted to know.
"Some friends of mine," Leslie said with a mysterious wink. "Also a couple of guys from the band here; they're just going along for a lark. No, they won't be any trouble, Liz; they're both queer and madly in love with each other!"
The coming out party got swinging shortly after Leslie drove the girls back to the apartment. Emmy and Liz showered, washing off the make-up and sweat as well as playing a feeling game with each other as they soaped and rinsed their bodies.
"I wonder if we'd have time for a quick one before we go out to the party," Emmy wondered aloud, as they dried themselves. "I guess not; sounds like a mob's out there already. But my, your twat felt hot and juicy back there in the shower!"
"It should," Liz commented wryly. "I feel so turned on, it's a wonder I didn't come right on your hand!"
Emmy hesitated a moment, then decided it would be best to forego their pleasure for the time being. Leslie helped make up her mind by coming into their bedroom as they talked. She urged them to put on bathrobes and come out to the party. Liz wanted to dress but Leslie pooh-poohed the idea, telling her that this would be a great waste of time.
"This is going to be a swinging party, my dear," she said with a lewd grin. "I'll be surprised if anybody has any clothes on within fifteen minutes from now!"
"Sounds great!" Emmy cried out as she threw on a terry cloth robe.
She and Liz followed Leslie out of the bedroom and into the big studio, which Leslie and her friends had converted into a large living room. Introductions were quickly performed. In addition to Leslie, there were Fred and Frankie, the two guys from the band; Joy Lansing, a cute redhead who immediately took Emmy over into a corner; a couple of blond model-types whose names Liz never caught; and a tall, very darkly tanned brunette whose black hair hung down over her shoulders.
"Hi!" I'm Jordan Wentworth," she said, extending her hand to Liz.
"Hello. That's a lovely dress you have on," Liz said, very impressed by her plain cream linen dress. "It goes especially well with your tan."
"Suppose we have a glass of champagne and talk things over!" Jordan suggested. "I must say, your performance tonight was quite extraordinary. I've seldom seen anyone perform as, er, energetically as you, particularly at the end. It seemed that you, er, got a great deal of, shall we say, pleasure from it."
"Thanks," Liz murmured, blushing at the praise. "I ... well, I did sort of let go and enjoy myself!"
"My husband agreed to take me to the smoker, on condition that he have the rest of the evening off," Jordan explained. "I suppose by now he's in bed with some floozy from Parma."
"Oh? Do you have ... well, an arrangement?"
"Sure, it's the only way we could live together," Jordan laughed. "He goes his way and I go mine."
"And what is your way?" Liz asked, looking into the woman's dark eyes.
"I was hoping it might be the same as yours," she replied, her voice husky and quiet. "Do you think that might be a possibility?"
Liz considered the question, quite aware of what Jordan was really asking. She knew that she ought to keep herself for Emmy, but she knew also that Emmy was deeply engaged in fairly advanced love play with Joy Lansing. In addition to this, she still had that gnawing itch between her thighs. Liz found herself strangely drawn to Jordan. She found herself involuntarily wondering what it would be like to have that tall, slender woman's body next to her own; whether Jordan's tan covered her entire body or only a portion of it; whether those long, slender thighs would be capable of lifting her to the heights of sensual passion.
"Yes!" Liz suddenly said, strength and determination in her voice. "Yes, I definitely think that might be a possibility! In fact, I can't think of much I'd rather do than lie back and have you make love to me!"
"Ahh!" Jordan sighed, smiling in triumph. "I'm sure you won't regret it, my dear. I'm very good in bed, I'm told. It isn't often that I ball with a woman but every time I do, it's just heavenly. And I'll make love to you, I'll stay on you till you scream with joy!"
Liz leaned back on the long sofa they shared, awaiting Jordan's kiss. The dark woman leaned over her, teasing Liz's lips with her own and playing a little game with her darting, heated tongue. Liz felt her belly knot up suddenly, the sure sign of her building passion; her thighs suddenly seemed alive with feeling. Jordan . slipped her left hand into the front of the bathrobe, found its folds blocking her path, and pulled out her hand again to untie the sash of the robe. This time she found her path unobstructed and slid her hand in the front of the robe until she was cupping Liz's right breast in her hand, squeezing the nipple gently.
"Shouldn't ... can't we go into the bedroom?" Liz gasped, feeling her body respond quickly to Jordan's warm, cupping hand.
"Of course not, darling Liz!" the woman breathed. "This is what makes it all so exciting, right here in front of everyone! Besides, most of the others are too busy with their own pleasures to pay much attention to what we do anyway!"
Liz decided, after gazing around the room, that Jordan spoke only the common-sense truth. Joy and Emmy lay on a mattress across the room, each with her head buried between the other's thighs. Leslie was sandwiched between the two blond model-types, facing one with the other plastered to her rear; they were humping furiously. Fred, the bass man, was standing up behind Frankie, the drummer, and was just then inserting a tremendously swollen prick into the handsome young man's rear. From the look on Frankie's face, Liz could tell that this gruesome experience pleased him considerably.
"I suppose you're right," she said, turning back to Jordan. "All right, I'm game if you are. But how about you getting undressed, too!"
"I can't wait to strip for you, my darling girl," Jordan muttered. "I'm so anxious to see what you think of my body."
Liz sat back and watched placidly as Jordan stood up. The woman unzipped the back of her dress and lowered it over her arms. She wore only a bra and panties underneath, plus garter belt and hose, of course. Her lingerie was of the most expensive nylon lace, very brief and very tight-fitting. The dainty nylon panties, for example, molded every curve and turn of the woman's prominent love mound and even puckered up in the center where they were pressed into her pussy furrow. Her entire body was as dark as her face, which is to say it was almost mahogany-colored. Jordan had a slender build, very flat in the, belly and straight in the thigh. Her hips were more like those of a boy than a woman's. Liz found the slightly unusual build to be enticing; she felt her sex throb and drip steadily as she took in all of Jordan's charms.
"I think it's best to be completely bare, don't you?" Jordan asked as she reached back to unhook her bra. "I hope you don't fancy those great huge boobs on a lover; mine are terribly inadequate."
"No, no they're not," Liz whispered ecstatically, "They're beautiful! They look so firm, so passionate! I can't wait for you to put one between my lips!"
"My, you do know how to flatter a woman, don't you?" Jordan asked, pleased by her remark.
She stripped off her garter belt and hose, leaving only the thin panties. Liz sat up attentively when the woman hooked her fingers into the elastic band at the top of this flimsy garment. Jordan worked the filmy nylon down over the tops of her thighs with a slow, sensuous grace, deliberately stretching it out and heightening Liz's anticipation.
"Oh, what a lovely!" Liz gasped in admiration.
"Do you really like it?" Jordan asked timidly.
Liz did indeed like it. The woman's love mound jutted out sharply between her trim thighs; a patch of dark fur covered a portion of that pubic projection but was sparse enough so Liz could easily see the dangling, puffy dark lips swelling out of the woman's well-developed sex. She stretched forth her hand; Jordan moved closer to allow Liz to touch the forbidden flesh.
"It's so lovely," Liz whispered, looking up at the woman with radiant eyes. "So warm, so wet, so womanly!"
"I'd hoped to be able to control myself," Jordan muttered thickly, "but I can't. My darling, I wanted to take a long time with you, to kiss your entire body, to let you kiss mine. But I can't wait; I've got to get on you. Are you ready for me?"
Liz answered by pulling the bathrobe off her shoulders and stretching back on the sofa, her arms extended and her thighs opening up wide. Jordon looked briefly at the girl's juicy wet pussy, then slid into place. It was a short but vicious fuck they had. Liz found herself spinning away in a delirious trance almost as soon as Jordan had placed her love mound against her swollen, tender pussy lips. She lifted her thighs high around the mahogany flesh, rubbing her aching cunt into every portion of Jordan's belly and pussy brush, pressing her throbbing nipples into her hard chest. Suddenly Jordan reared up, thrusting one of her small but highly in-flamed nipples toward Liz's lips.
"Suck it, Liz," she grated out through her clenched teeth. "Suck my tit and make me come all over that sweet pussy of yours?'
Liz twisted her face around to take the rock-hard nipple between her lips. She sucked it into her mouth, caressing the tender woman-flesh with her teeth and tongue. Jordan shrieked out an incoherent phrase, then reached down and seized Liz's buttocks in her hands. She dug her nails deep into the girl's tender cheeks, gathering her ass up and holding her as she fucked herself into a perfect foaming frenzy.
"Huhh! Aagghh!" she grunted as she writhed and ground herself into Liz's over-flowing cunt. "Fuck, fuck, until you cream all over me! Aide! Now, now you bitch, give it all to me!"
Liz scarcely knew what to do, so she held tightly onto Jordan's writhing torso and clasped the woman even tighter between her thighs. Suddenly she felt a warm trickle drip down onto her buttocks; the tell-tale sign of Jordan's ecstatic reaction to this highly erotic treatment. The older woman slowly relaxed, sighed deeply and then sat up.
"Oh my," Liz whispered, "what a delicious way to make love."
Jordan did not answer. Liz raised herself up on one elbow to repeat her praise and to her great surprise saw that the woman was quickly dressing!
"What?" she gasped. "Surely that's not all! No, come back, Jordan. Wasn't I good for you? Please tell me, I'll do whatever you want me to!"
Jordan never replied to any of these entreaties. Indeed, she did not even acknowledge hearing them. Zipping up her dress and putting on her pumps, she walked over to the shelf where her purse and gloves sat, picked them up and left the studio. Liz watched this with open eyes and a hurt look on her face.
"Hey, that bitch get enough?"
Liz turned around to see who spoke; it was Leslie. Her face was covered with the drippings of one of the blondes' orgasmic excitement; her hair was matted and wildly twisted.
"I don't know," Liz said with a hurt voice. "We were just having a wonderful time and then she came, a , real spewing mess she creamed out on me, and then she just got up and left."
"She had a good time then," Leslie said with a sneer. "Don't pay any attention to her; she's just that way. She can't admit to herself that she's one of us, you see; she likes to come in and get her pussy creamed good, but she can't sit around afterward and enjoy second and third helpings like the rest of us."
Leslie wandered off to see if she couldn't give Emmy a hand in pacifying Joy, who seemed to have an insatiable hunger for love-making of every sort. At the moment, for example, Joy was straddling Fred, the bass an, and getting his long, thick dick shoved into her cunt; Emmy was trying to kiss the wound that Joy was fastening upon Fred's prick; and now Leslie came up and began kissing the girl's breasts. The blondes, left to their own devices, occupied themselves in a session of mutual masturbation as they watched the three girls tumble about Fred's body.
"Looks like we've been left out," Liz heard Frankie say."
"I suppose that's it," she admitted, pulling her robe around her as he sat down beside her.
"I hope you don't mind some company," he explained shyly, "but you looked so alone here. Oh, don't worry; I'm not going to try to put a make on you!"
"I'm sorry. It's nothing personal," Liz said with a deep blush. "It's just that I ... well, I just can't stand the thought of a man putting that thing in ... you know."
"Heavens," the youth remonstrated. "I feel quite the same way, about putting it in a woman, I mean. But can't we be friends anyway? Especially since we've been left alone?"
"I suppose so," Liz conceded. "Are you, er, going steady or something, with Fred?"
"Who could go steady with an alley cat like that? He's shameless, really," the youth sighed, frowning as he looked over at Fred. "I mean, look at him! He knows how it hurts me to see him carrying on with someone else, and especially with women! But what can I do? I'd die without him."
Liz, perceiving that Frankie had about the same problem with Fred that she had with Emmy, felt a tug of sympathy as she listened to this sad tale of infidelity.
"I'm in the same fix," she admitted, and told him about Emmy's promiscuous ways.
"That is a terrible position," he consoled her. "But I'll bet Emmy's just like Fred: they'll play around but they always realize who loves them best."
"I keep hoping so," Liz murmured. Then, turning to Frankie, she asked, "You know, you're the first man I ever knew who was ... well, like you and Fred, you know."
"Queer?" he asked with a laugh. "Go ahead, I don't mind the term. Though actually we're not so much different from anyone else. I mean, we have feelings and all that too, you know."
"Tell me, if you don't mind talking about it," Liz said with a shy smile, "what do men. do? I mean, in bed?"
"Everything imaginable, really. Perhaps you saw Fred stuffing my rear a few minutes ago? He really likes that best, though it certainly isn't my favorite. Actually I don't much care; I'm just as happy to go off in a fellow's hand, or in his mouth, or even just to do myself while I watch him go at it ... it doesn't much matter to me."
"Oh, so you don't really have to stick it in somebody, then?"
"Definitely not! In fact, I've never put it into anyone, except their hand or mouth, of course," Frankie said.
"Or a woman?"
"Uh, I've had a couple of experiences with women," he said with marked distaste. "Pretty awful, too."
"How do you mean?" Liz asked.
"Oh, the first time, I got sick. right after I got on her and got my, you know, this thing, in her," Frankie said with a grimace. "And the other time, well I just couldn't do anything at all. You know, like limp!"
"I can sympathize with you," Liz murmured, "though my problem's a bit different. I just can't stand to have that thing stuck up in me: the thought turns me absolutely cold!"
"Sounds like we were made for each other," Frankie laughed. "Except some of the parts were left out, or something like that!"
"That's one way of putting it," Liz agreed. "Say, does it turn you off for a woman to ... you know, handle your thing?"
"I don't know," the youth replied. "The only women I've ever been close to, they always wanted me to stick it between their legs. And that's what I can't do. Why? You want to have a feel? I wouldn't mind if you did that, I don't think."
"It's odd," Liz said with a shamefaced grin, "but I think you're the first man that I ever wanted to put my hand on. Here, let me just feel it for a moment."
Liz reached over and laid her hand on Frankie's limp cock, covering it with her fingers. It lay there, still and lifeless, under her hand. She closed her fingers about it experimentally, hefting its solid length and examining the broad, flaring head. Then she drew her hand back in silence.
"It felt nice," she finally said. "Yours isn't quite as big as Fred's, is it? Isn't his exceptionally big?"
"Yes, he's very well hung," Frankie admitted. "Mine is about average, except for the head ... there I've got it over just about everybody. When I get a stiff, the head really blossoms out wide. Most of the guys favor that kind for lip work; they claim it really helps when your sucking a guy for him to have a big head. I've always found it that way myself."
They talked on for a few moments, discovering that both of them had an interest in modern painting. Frankie told her where the best museum in town was located and expounded briefly on some of the better works in the collection. Then Leslie came up and interrupted them.
"Hey, do we have a couple of lovebirds here?" she crowed. "No, I guess not. Hey Liz, how about coming over and giving me a hand with Tanya? She's that hungry-looking blonde over there and I think if you were to give her a face full of snatch, I could hump her from the rear and get her down off her cloud. Come on, what do you say?"
Liz excused herself and went over to join Leslie in pleasuring Tanya, one of the blond model-types. From there they went on to other games, concluding the party an hour after sun-up. Liz barely. knew it when she fell into bed with Leslie and Emmy, exhausted and satiated.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Parma Elks quickly spread around the good news about the strip team of Emmy and Liz, so Leslie had no problem in lining them up for steady and profitable jobs.
"To start with," she explained to them, "you'll have to work neighborhood bars and taverns during the week, Monday-to-Thursday shots. Most of those places bring on bigger acts for Friday and Saturday night, but that's no problem because I can get you lots of club dates easily."
Leslie proved her point by booking them solid, every Friday and Saturday night, for the next five weeks. She also found them a job as go-go girls in a Cleveland Heights tavern.
"Gee, at this rate we'll be able to pay you back and move into an apartment of our own pretty soon," Emmy commented as she learned of this development.
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave," Leslie cautioned. "We've still got a lot of kinks to work out just between the three of us!"
Liz wondered what could possibly be left for them to do when she heard this. Leslie's appetite for sex seemed almost insatiable; there was hardly a night that she wasn't balling with one or both of her pretty house guests till one or two o'clock in the morning. Liz had never imagined that women could find so many interesting, exciting ways to bring their bodies to a quivering expectancy, or to transform that expectancy into a gushing, sobbing fulfillment.
Emmy and Liz made a fine impression upon the patrons of the Red Lion Inn, the Cleveland Heights tavern where they tossed themselves about nightly to the beat of a solid rock band. Liz actually enjoyed this kind of dancing more than stripping, even though she never came close to having an orgasm as she worked, as she had done that first night at the Parma Elks' smoker. She decided that stripping was just too blatant, too overt, for her style and point of view. Emmy made no distinctions between the two.
The first real crisis in their new career occurred just four weeks after their debut before the Parma Elks. Leslie had gotten them a job stripping for an American Legion party up in Ashtabula, a short hour's drive away from Cleveland. She even allowed them to drive up in her Corvette, a special treat which Emmy had wheedled out of her by some fast hip work in bed.
The stripping itself went off well. Emmy drove them up, muttering all the while about her especially horny disposition that evening, and her performance at the show attested to her boiling excitement. Liz found herself pulled along by Emmy's example to such an extent that they were virtually humping each other on the stage, to the excited yells and whoops of the red-faced businessmen in the audience. Emmy, heated and excited by the noise and tempo of the crowd, flung her bra away with a flourish, thrusting her bare nipples impudently into Liz's chest.
"Take it off! ,Take it all off, everything!" went up from the Legionnaires of Ashtabula.
"Come on, let's go nude," Emmy whispered to Liz.
Liz could not resist her lover's entreaties and unhooked her own bra. She flung the net garment aside and impudently began to caress her own breasts, looking feverishly at Emmy all the while. This brought a new cheer from the crowd. Emmy escalated the strip show by pulling off everything except her last G-string, the tiny patch of golden nylon that covered only the smallest part of her love mound. She poised her fingers over the hooks holding up that last barrier and looked out at the sweating, cheering men.
A new roar of cries greeted her action, spurring her on. She. smiled saucily and unfastened the G-string, then held it between her widespread thighs just as if she were rubbing herself against the skimpy garment. Then she lifted it to her nose, sniffed with exaggerated haughtiness, and flung it into the audience. They went wild. Liz followed suit, at least to the extent of taking off her own final G-string and throwing it aside. The girls were now totally nude except for the high-heeled shoes they wore.
Emory and Liz faced each other and began to grind their loins in the familiar dance of love. Not a man in the place doubted that the girls were simulating one of the most exciting acts imaginable, though few realized that Emmy and Liz were really doing what they most wanted to do to each other.
Emmy brought the act to a finish, and indeed a climax, by pretending that she was in the last stages of that delightful feeling. She slipped her hands down until they were gripping her sex and then she loosed a volley of bumps that brought the house down. She tossed her head to and fro wildly, mimicking a woman in orgasmic ecstasy, and kept it up until the curtain fell, ending their act.
The trouble, however, began once they got back into their tiny dressing room. They were quickly joined by the president of the Legion post and one of his cronies, armed with bottles of champagne and glasses.
"Hey girls, that was just great," the president chortled.
Emmy thanked him gracefully, seeming not to resent his intrusion. Liz found his pot-bellied, bald-headed, red-faced presence to be almost disgusting, and his cohort, a wizened little fellow who might have been a baggage clerk in a bus terminal, impressed her even less.
"Now, how's about let's having us a little party? Just the four of us?" the president proposed.
"Yeah, we got a room upstairs that's just as private as can be," the baggage-clerk type grunted with a leer.
Liz started to say that they had to get back to Cleveland but Emmy beat her to the conversational punch and agreed to the man's invitation. Liz tried to catch her friend's eye but Emmy paid her no mind at all. The two girls dressed quickly and went upstairs with the men.
Once they were situated in the small lounge, the evening became an extremely traumatic one for Liz, who found herself being fondled and ogled by the repulsive little man. She fended him off as best she could, creating diversions and difficulties which he fended aside with no real difficulty.
"Come on, honey," the Legionnaire whined, "don't you care nothing about having fun?"
"Sure I do," Liz snapped, getting more and more angry, "but I want to make sure it's fun."
"Kid, you ain't lived till you've had fun with Willis Hawkins," he gloated. "Besides, don't you want to earn that fifty-buck tip?"
"Hey? What's that about a fifty-buck tip?" Emmy demanded.
Liz had thought that Emmy was deep in conversation with the other man but the sharp-eared girl easily caught this remark and pressed her inquiry home.
"Didn't Leslie tell you?" the president asked. "No? Well, I told her that if you girls were friendly and cooperative after the show, that there'd probably be a fifty-buck tip for each of you."
"Of all the nerve!" Liz exploded. "Setting us up for a lay and not even telling us about it! Why, that lecherous old pimp!"
"Wait just a minute," Emmy said coolly. "Let's not anyone get hasty. Suppose you guys just let me and my friend here have about a minute or two to ourselves? We'll have us a conference and then maybe we might be able to do some business."
The men agreed to leave them alone in the room for a few moments and withdrew. Emmy rushed over to Liz, her face grim and determined.
"Are you crazy?" she muttered in an angry undertone. "That's fifty bucks apiece! All you've got to do is just lie back and wiggle a little bit; that idiot you're with couldn't tell a good lay from a dying gasp! For God's sake, Liz, that pussy of yours won't fall off or rot if a prick happens to get inside it! Now come on and act sensible .. . let's give 'em a quick ride, collect our fifty and then split for Cleveland!"
Liz obstinately refused even to allow the men to touch her again, despite all Emmy's threats and pleas. Finally Emmy gave up in disgust and stood silently, chewing her thumbnail and thinking it over.
"All right," she said suddenly. "I've got a plan. You just sit tight and wait it out. But don't think I'm dividing with you!"
Emmy summoned the men back into the room and began her explanation. She told them that Liz was ill and exhausted by the strenuous dancing they'd done, but proposed that she service both of them at once.
"That's a groovy way to ball," she told them, her eyes flashing brightly. "You ever do that? Two guys making the same girl at once? It just drives me wild, and I'll bet you two'll really give me a workout. How about it, fellows?"
The two men agreed to Emmy's outlandish proposal, and also to her price: fifty dollars from each of them. They decided that she would suck the president while the baggage-clerk type mounted her from the rear, dog fashion.
"Okay, just you sit back in your chair and get your pants down," she said to the president. "I'll hike up my skirt and throw these panties off, so you can attack from your angle and ... oh my God! What a tool!"
Emmy gasped and stopped talking in mid-sentence when she saw what the meek, scrawny little man pulled from his trousers. Liz could see too, from where she sat; the sight struck cold terror into her heart. Though the baggage clerk resembled a broomstick more than a man, he drew from his trousers a prick which would have shamed many a stallion! Liz thought of milk bottles, baseball bats, sticks of bologna, when she saw that incredible, obscene length of masculine tool drooping from the man's opened trousers; she decided that it could easily have been the size of her forearm, and that the head decorating its tip was no smaller than her clenched fist. She shuddered with fear for poor Emmy, who proposed to lodge that terrible lance in her young quim.
Emmy, however, displayed no such fears. Rather, she seemed to welcome the opportunity to cater to the men and their lewd desires. Liz, unable to witness the disgusting scene, fled the room and made her way down to their car. She sat there, miserable and crying, for nearly an hour until Emmy finally appeared and seated herself behind the driver's wheel.
"Emmy," she began as the girl drove away, "I just can't ..."
"Oh shut up! Stop your childish driveling and whining, won't you?" Emmy snapped, her voice cold and hard. "You really carry this shrinking violet crap too far! A little length of prick isn't going to hurt you, and you'd damned well better realize it. I don't know what Leslie's going to say about this."
Leslie had a lot to say about it, once they got back to the studio and reported on their performance. Emmy told the woman everything, including the way Liz had carried on when the men began propositioning them.
"Really, Liz," she said impatiently. "What's it going to hurt if they ram a few inches of prick into you? They can't tell whether you're, enjoying it or not, so who's going to be hurt?"
Liz tried to explain the extent of her revulsion at the thought of having to fit her sex around a male cock, but Leslie and Emmy pooh-poohed her fears. Liz slept by herself that night, being exiled to a couch in the studio while Leslie and Emmy sported away in the bedroom. She cried herself to sleep. Before dozing off, she promised herself that she would try as hard as possible to overcome her phobia, to force herself to do whatever Leslie and Emmy wanted her to do. The thought of spending, more nights on the couch, sleeping alone, filled her with fear and dread.
CHAPTER NINE
Liz made her confession of intent to Leslie over breakfast the next morning, looking down at her coffee cup as she spoke. She promised that she would try to do whatever she had to do.
"That's much more sensible, my dear," Leslie smiled. "I'll try to avoid throwing you into any of those situations, but you really must try to be more cooperative. I'm sure you'll find it's not too bad. Just look on it as one more bad job ... rather like making beds in the morning, or something like that."
Leslie also got them a date with a photographer, a greasy fellow who wanted to make a series of shots for a girlie magazine published by a Cleveland dealer in pornography and girlie books. She promised Liz that this would be a modeling job only; that the photographer would be no trouble at all.
"He's queer as a three-dollar bill," she laughed. I'd be surprised if he got within three feet of you."
Leslie's prophecy turned out to be correct. Emmy and Liz met the photographer in his studio, the top of a dingy warehouse. He out-lined the shots he wanted, a series of poses which would feature the girls stripping and then prancing about in high heels, hose, and garter belts.
"Show the tits and the beaver, girls," he told them. "That's what sells pictures like these!"
"Tits and beaver" it was. For three hours that morning, the photographer shot pictures of them together, separately, and in every position his ferule mind could concoct. Liz found the work exciting for the first hour or so, but then the excitement wore off and it was just work. The photographer wouldn't let them touch each other, which was one reason it got to be less exciting; he said they should suggest a lesbian attraction but not actually do anything to make it explicit. Thus Liz found her cunt heating up to no avail.
They earned fifty dollars each for the morning's work, of which Leslie claimed ten for her work as agent and arranger. Both Liz and Emmy claimed a willingness to make more of this easy money, so Leslie promised to be on the lookout for any more modeling jobs that might be available. Within a week she found one.
"This isn't for still photos," she explained, "it's for movies! Not like Hollywood, of course, but it's still movies. And it pays, too! Two hundred bucks apiece for you, and it should take only one day."
"What kind of movies?" Emmy ask skeptically. "Some of those blue kind?"
"Blue?" Liz asked innocently.
"Yes, they're blue," Leslie admitted, and then explained to Liz. "See, this is the kind that men show at stag parties and stuff like that. They're sex movies; really; they show people balling and making out."
"So Emmy and I are supposed to make love while this guy takes pictures of us?"
"That's about it. Interested?"
"For two hundred? Of course!" Emmy laughed in reply.
"Yes, I guess I'd go along, too," Liz admitted.
"That's it then," Leslie said decisively.
"I'll call the guy back and get it all set up. I think he wants to start shooting this Sunday."
She made the arrangements; Sunday was to be the day. The photographer, the same man who had taken the still shots earlier in the week, drove by to collect the girls Sunday morning. They sleepily climbed into the back of the station wagon, noticing but not disturbing a young man who was curled up asleep in the seat next to the driver. The photographer took the freeway south from the city.
"We're going to use an old farmhouse I know about," the photographer explained. "It's down toward Mansfield, about an hour away. By the way, this is Louie asleep here; he's got a small role in the picture, too."
Liz looked more closely at the young man. He seemed to be about twenty-five, moderately attractive in a flashy kind of way, if you liked the motorcycle boots, pompadour hairdo, and black leather jacket routine. She mentally sniffed, turning up her nose in disdain. She thought briefly of lying back and letting him lie over her with his ... but then pushed all such thoughts from her mind.
"The idea of the movie is this," the photographer explained as he' drove. "You two are taking a walk out in the country. You come up to this abandoned farm, go into the barn. You start making out and knock off a good one or two, then Louie sneaks up and surprises you. He starts to rape you, but you're too hot to rape; you're just wild about the idea of taking him on. So he finishes up by balling both of you."
"That's a simple enough plot," Emmy commented.
"You might find that movie making's not as easy as it sounds," the photographer answered dryly.
That proved to be an accurate forecast, Liz discovered. Once the cameraman got his lights arranged, and the pile of hay which Liz and Emmy were to lie on was fluffed up satisfactorily, they began the shooting. The cameraman began with the outdoor scenes and got a brief sequence of the girls walking through the woods, then approaching the barn and investigating it. Once they went inside it the real work began.
"Almost everything you do is going to have to be done twice," the cameraman said as they entered the barn. "I need several angles to work with; it makes for a better movie in the end. But it means that .you're going to have to work each other up a little, then start all over again when I shift the camera around."
"So then we don't actually get to come once we get ready?" Emmy asked.
"'Fraid not," the cameraman shrugged. "Of course, if you can't hold it back, then there's nothing we can do. But that's going to take time and we might well be here till four or five o'clock anyway. See what I mean?"
"Yeah, I got it," Emmy sighed. "Okay, where do we start?"
The cameraman suggested that they start with their entrance into the barn. They were to go inside it, poke around tor a few minutes, then look at each other and embrace. From there, they would slowly undress each other and let their natures tell them where to go from there.
This part went off easily enough, though Liz found it difficult to accept the idea of re-dressing herself once Emmy had stripped her, then re-enacting the undressing scenes as the camera moved to another angle. She found her flesh responding to Emmy's caresses, as she usually did, but felt frustrated when they could not progress on to their usual conclusion.
The next part of the movie was even more frustrating; this was the part where she and Emmy were nude and sprawled out on the hay pile. They excited and caressed each other in a variety of ways, all performed at least twice for the benefit of "the angles."
"Christ, I'm getting fed up with angles," Emmy panted after a particularly passionate scene that had found her stretching herself over Liz, allowing the girl to nibble at her swollen nipples while she fingered her partner's pussy. "I'm boiling hot and I want to come!"
"Just hold on for a little longer and we'll break for lunch," the cameraman said, unmoved by her fierce desire. "Then you can have all the pussy pie to eat that you want!"
"That's going to be a big piece," Emmy grated, assuming the next pose he demanded.
The photographer spent a long time in filming a closeup sequence in which the girls lay back, side by side, and fingered their pussies themselves. He particularly liked Liz's technique, one she had recently developed to a high art. In this pastime, she used only her index fingers, laying them alongside the oval of her cunt and pressing the fat lips between her fingers, then spreading them wide apart so that her pussy lips opened and closed like those of a fish freshly taken from the water.
"Hey, that's good!" he cried, when he caught this action through the viewfinder of his Bolex camera. "Yeah, just keep it going like that! Sure, you can hump your butt a little if you want; that'll really get the boys turned on! Yeah, spread the lips out wide, that shows off your joy button really good! Great!"
He also spent a long time filming Emmy's technique for self-relief, the time-tested and experience-proved thumb job. Emmy, in fact, cheated just a bit by thumbing herself into an orgasm as he shot away with his camera; he fairly jumped with joy when he saw her hip motions gathering momentum and her pussy start to twitch and drip out its clear, filmy liquid of completion.
"Hey, this is really good!" he cried. "Louie, come here; wanna see a pussy cream? This girl's driving herself right out of sight!"
Louie was not interested. Liz was beginning to suspect that the young man favored men rather than women for his sexual exploits, though she found this difficult to reconcile with the role he was going to have to play later in the movie. She kept up her finger motions when the photographer switched over to catch Emmy's fulsome climax, but the thought of Louie destroyed her concentration and prevented her from diddling herself to a really satisfactory orgasm.
The last scene before lunch was the one they had both been waiting for. The cameraman checked his watch and decided that he would film their lovemaking scene before taking the break. He consulted them for ideas on what technique they should use for this climactic performance.
"How about a French job? A little sixty-nine?" Liz suggested, eager to feel Emmy's mouth on her throbbing pussy but also hungry to drive her own tongue deep into her friend's sensitive cunt.
"Or maybe a good round of flat-fucking?" Emmy countered, equally eager to exploit her favorite method of sexing.
"Great! They're both good ideas," the cameraman crowed happily. "Why don't you start off by flat-fucking, then pretend that it isn't giving you all you want ... then you switch over to sixty-nine?"
"How little you know!" Emmy said mockingly. "Liz and I, we can get everything we desire by doing it that way!
"I do know," the photographer laughed, "but the guys that see this don't ... so give 'em a little show and do it both ways, huh?"
The girls agreed to this; they would probably have agreed to any proposal that would have allowed them to work off the tensions that had been building up in their loins that morning. Liz stretched out in the hay, eager to begin the sequence. Emmy was hardly less interested and quickly pounced upon the girl's hungry body.
"Yeah, that's good," the cameraman said encouragingly as he peered through the camera's viewfinder. "Hey, that's real good! Get your legs up high around her, that's the idea. Now fuck it down!"
Liz lifted her knees up until they were lodged behind Emmy's strong shoulders, an arrangement that brought nearly all her quivering pussy into the most intimate contact with her lover's sex fur, her clitoris, her pelvic bone. Emmy ground her wiry cunt hairs into Liz's tender pussy, writhing furiously and seemingly intent on crushing the lips of that pussy into a juicy, pulpy mass. Liz cried out in anguish as the girl bore down upon her, then felt the pain turn into pleasure of the most urgent and sensual kind.
The girls, overcome and possessed by the fires blazing within their bellies, forgot all about the cameraman's injunction to pretend that this method of lovemaking did not satisfy them. All too obviously, the method was satisfying, and to an extreme degree.
"Aiiee!" Liz shrieked, feeling her cunt turn into molten jelly and then explode, spewing out its hot juices over her cunt and onto Emmy's churning sex. "Fuck, my darling, fuck me to death! Oh, Emmy, sock it to me! Rub it in, I'm dying with come!"
Emmy grunted savagely and thrust her heaving sex all the more furiously into the crotch Liz held' up to her. She too felt the spasms of love rip through her belly, her buttocks and thighs, and run out the throbbing lips of her pussy, inundating all of Liz's mid-section with her own musky cream.
The cameraman, queer though he undoubtedly was, could not resist the sensual fire emanating from those two girls. He forgot about his planned sequence of shots too and concentrated on recording every heave, every wiggle, every facial grimace of the girl's satisfying climax. Even Louie looked over and nodded approvingly as the girls threw their cunts wildly at each other.
"Ahh, that was great!" the photographer gurgled once the girls lapsed into a relaxed trance, panting and snorting from the force of their effort.
"God, Liz, that was good," Emmy breathed into her lover's ear. "But it'll be even better when I suck you down, I swear it!"
"Hey, you girls gonna do another take for me?" the cameraman asked in surprise. "You mean, you still got the hots after that?"
"You ain't seen nothing. yet," Emmy grinned. "Me and this girl, once we get hot we just turn into fucking machines!"
She proceeded to demonstrate her point with more enthusiasm than could easily be imagined. Emmy lay back on her side, lifting her upper thigh for Liz, who adopted the same position in reverse. Liz snuggled her face up close to Emmy's crotch, resting her cheek on the muscular but slender thigh. The frothy come still oozed from the girl's taut slit; the effusions that she had generated, as well as those that Liz herself had spewed out, covered the entire pussy region and the upper thighs as well.
"My, my, what a juicy twat you have!" she murmured, inhaling deeply and savoring the aromatic scent of sex.
"I'll bet it's no sloppier than yours," Emory muttered. "This thing looks like an army had come on it! Lord, that just makes it all the sweeter to me. Liz, I know that your pussy is the tastiest thing in all this world!"
Emmy reached between Liz's widespread thighs and cupped the lips of the girl's pussy between her fingers, causing the tender flesh to pout and swell outward. Liz groaned lustily when she felt this touch and began working her hips back and forth, as if she were trying to fuck Emmy's love-provoking fingers.
"Now you're cooking, girls," the cameraman yelled, scooting around to get shots from every possible angle. "Go to it, suck away!"
They needed no encouragement. Loud smacking kisses, slurping sounds, resounded from the entwined bodies as Liz and Emory put their mouths to each other's cunts. They amazed the photographer by. making each other come so quickly, but the fires in their loins had hardly been doused by their one previous climax. Liz, entranced by the scent and taste of her friend's hot cunt, found herself taking the active position, truly an unusual turn for her. She rolled over onto Emmy, who acquiesced readily enough, and then began fucking her cunt down onto the girl's face. At the same time she nearly tore her own tongue out in trying to reach up to Emmy's womb. She didn't make it but Emory nearly went out of her bead as long as she kept up the effort. It seemed like one long orgasm; Liz started to come the instant she felt Emmy's tongue slide into the meat of her cunt and she could tell that her friend was doing exactly the same thing.
They quit because they were exhausted and spent, not because they had exhausted their appetites for sexual pleasure. The photographer complimented them profusely on their performance, swearing that he'd never gotten a better reel of film from any models he'd ever worked with.
"Yeah, that was just fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes in appreciation. "Now, how's about some lunch? Or do you two wanna just keep munching on each other?"
"Depends on what you're offering." Emmy sighed.
"Turkey sandwiches and beer."
Emmy and Liz decided that a sandwich and a beer would be nice and so they left their hay pile. They picked the wisps of hay off each other, then walked out to the station wagon, not bothering to dress. The cameraman outlined the afternoon's shooting as they sat in the shade and ate their sandwiches. Liz thought, as she ate, that it was strange to be lunching in the presence of two men while she was totally naked. The thought brought home to her the immense distance she had traveled since last September, when she had begun college.
Well, there's nothing to do but make the best of it, she told herself. There's no going back now!
The photographer wasted no time after he finished his sandwiches. He hurried Louie along and began arranging his lights and camera for an outdoor shot. The idea, he explained, was for Louie to sneak up to the barn while the girls were supposedly inside, balling away like mad, and spy on them.
"Okay, Louie, that's about the place I want you," the cameraman said as the young man nestled up to a knothole. "You look inside, get a surprised look on your face. Then after you watch for a minute, get your cock out and beat it a little."
This is just what Louie did. Emmy and Liz, interested in the acting abilities of the fellow, took up a strategic vantage point. Louie carried the scene off well enough. The girls got a real surprise, however, when Louie fumbled with his jeans and then opened them to produce his cock.
"Geez!" Emmy whispered. "What a cunt-stuffer!"
The young man had hauled out a length of prick that could virtually have doubled for a fire hose! Liz, sickened by the sight of the dreaded instrument, turned away but Emmy watched with considerable interest. Louie played with his cock for a moment, bringing it to life and an even greater size as he kept his eye to the keyhole. Once it was fully grown, Emmy estimated, it could easily have been a foot long, and as big around as her forearm! She shuddered inwardly, wondering what that immense pussyplow would do to her body, but she vowed that whatever the pain, she would lie back and let Louie ram it completely home.
That was just the scheme the photographer had in mind. He moved his equipment indoors for the final sequence, outlining it to the girls and Louie as he worked. Louie, he said, was to burst into the barn and rape the girls. Liz immediately protested, provoking a fierce quarrel with the photographer who insisted that she go through with the scene.
Emmy saved the day. She proposed that they alter the "script" a bit, turning it into a slightly different story. Her idea was, that Louie would start to rape them, beginning with her, but that she would fuck him into quiescence.
"Do you think you can?" the photographer asked skeptically. "I'll grant that women aren't really his dish, but I warn you, he's a good actor. And once he gets that prick hard, it's a day's work to bring it down again!"
"Huh!" Emmy snorted. "If I can't fuck him down I'll finish him up with my mouth! I never saw the man that could get the best of me!"
The photographer agreed to this change, provided that Emmy really carried through with her promise. The script now read thus: Louie would slug Liz as she rose to defend her "virtue"; she would fall unconscious and stay that way while Emma worked on Louie. They set to work with the filming. Emory and Liz resumed their lesbian lovemaking, taking the sixty-nine position. They were sucking each other madly when suddenly Louie pulled them apart. He had left his cock out; it flopped about wildly as he struggled briefly with Liz. She felt its warm, hard length slap against her belly as she fought; the feeling spurred her on to greater vigor. Finally Louie tired of the game and "slugged" her, or so the camera would make it seem. Liz fell, over backward, awkwardly but convincingly enough.
This left the field to Emmy and Louie., The cameraman told Liz she could get up, since she would not be in the camera's field of view. She did so and rose up just in time to see Louie sprawling over Emmy, who resisted with only the feeblest of efforts. The mammoth prick billowed out from Louie's belly, threatening the girl's body in a menacing fashion. Emmy lay back, defeated, and watched helplessly as Louie brandished his bludgeon between her thighs and fitted it to her cock-pocket. She really hammed it up when Louie put the meat to her, or so Liz thought; Emmy's eyes grew big and round and her mouth framed a surprised "OWW!"
"You've got the idea, girlie," the cameraman shouted. "Act like it's killing you at first and then discover that it really feels good!"
"Who's acting?" Emmy cried in genuine anguish. "This guy's really a bull! It does hurt!"
Liz trembled for her friend, hating the thought of that brutal male tool slicing apart the pussy that she loved so much and burrowing deep into the soft, feminine flesh of Emmy's juicy cunt. Emmy, however, adjusted rather quickly to the immense cunt-stretcher and within a couple of minutes she folded her arms about Louie's back and fitted her heels to the cheeks of his ass.
"Shove it in! she suddenly hissed. "God, it's good now! Give me your cock, ram it home, you little cunt-stuffer!"
"Ah, you do like the prick too, do you?" Louie grunted victoriously. "All right, you little bitch, here's a belly full!"
He drew his hips back until the red-tipped prick slid completely out of her hot wound and nearly flopped free, then drove in and down. Emmy shrieked aloud with animal joy as she felt his rod strike into the mouth of her womb, bruising and dilating that especially tender organ. She dug her nails into Louie's back, trying to provoke him into even more brutal treatment. and began sobbing in desperation as she felt his mammoth cock begin to radiate sensual pleasure in her tightly stretched cunt.
For a man who preferred to ball with men, Louie fucked like a professional. Though Liz found the entire performance repulsive in the extreme, she had to admit that she'd never seen Emmy respond more vocally or more violently to any sexual partner, male or female. The girl cried out her pleasure and lifted her rump high, driving the meat of her pussy into the base of Louie's prick and rubbing her sex into the big dangling balls.
Louie, seemingly made of iron, never paused in his driving motion. He fucked his way right through Emmy's tumultuous orgasm, never pausing to allow her to recover from the violent emotions that racked her body unmercifully. The girl found herself still impaled upon that thrusting piston when she came back to her senses, so she tried all the harder to use her cunt as a grip with which she could reduce him to a quivering, pulsating state of limpness.
Emmy felt herself lifted up to the very heights of sexual joy twice more before she managed to work her will upon Louie. It was during her third orgasm that she felt him stiffen all over, quivering with expectancy, and then collapse upon her. The tip of his cock slid right into the very mouth of her womb and nestled there, shooting wads of fiery hot cream far up into her body. Emmy's womb responded to this intimate treatment and sympathetically nipped away at the head of Louie's prick. He shuddered and cried out at this involuntary caress and tried to shove himself even further into that delicious grip. Alas, he had extended himself to the utmost and had no more prick left.
"Now that was some fuck!" the cameraman murmured as they ceased their violent motions. "Are you going to have any left, Louie?"
The young man could not answer for a moment or two. He seemed barely conscious and certainly in no condition to think rationally. Finally he stirred and looked up.
"I don't think so," he panted. "This chick, she's something else!"
"Okay, that's it, then" the photographer grunted. "Let's get this stuff packed up and get back to Cleveland."
He had to do most of the work himself, since Louie was unable to do more than roll off Emmy and lie there. Emmy hopped up after a minute or two and squatted on the barn floor, letting the milky come drip out of her battered and temporarily enlarged pussy. She reached down to test the extent of Louie's damage and discovered that she could easily thrust three fingers into her distended cunt.
"Hey, that guy really stretched me out!" she exclaimed to Liz, who watched her friend with distaste.
"Really, Emmy, I don't understand how you could pretend to love me, and then lie back there and let him put that terrible thing in you," Liz blurted out passionately. "And then to squat there and put your fingers in his goo! I'll never understand you!"
"Liz, you're still hung up on that middle-class morality," Emmy laughed. "All I did was help earn us a bundle of quick, easy money! Why it even felt good after a while!"
Emmy wiped her pussy dry with her panties, then threw them away. She finished dressing and joined Liz and the two men in the station wagon for the ride back to Cleveland. It was a quiet and uneventful ride.
CHAPTER TEN
Liz and Emmy used the proceeds of their movie-making stint to pay a month's rent in advance for a pleasant three-room apartment six blocks away from Leslie's studio, as well as a closet full of new clothes. Leslie had been only slightly miffed at Liz for failing to do her full duty and allow herself to be fucked by Louie; the cameraman's enthusiastic description of Emmy's performance helped mollify her chagrin.
"All right, Liz," Leslie said in summation, I'll forget your dereliction this time. But I'm warning you: you promised to go down with a man if the need arose and I'm going to hold you to it!"
"I know," Liz muttered, ashamed of her reluctance but also miffed with Leslie for pushing so hard. "I swear I'll try to do it, but Leslie, you just don't know what the sight of one of those awful-looking things does to me."
"Nonsense! Just think of it as a banana, or maybe a frankfurter, my dear," Leslie said briskly. "I recommend that you practice diddling yourself with something, perhaps a candle, just to get in practice and get accustomed to it."
Liz took Leslie's advice to heart. She stopped off at a corner grocery store on her way home and bought a box of dinner candles, the largest ones she could find. Might as well start at the top, she thought as she looked over the grocer's selection of candles. Once inside their apartment, she took advantage of Emmy's absence to experiment immediately. Liz took the package into her bedroom, opened it and took out a scarlet candle. It was about eight inches long, she guessed, and maybe an inch thick at the base.
Well, it couldn't compare to that club that Louie had, but maybe it would do!
Liz took off her panties, hiked up her skirt, and put her left foot on the bed, exposing her tender sex to her fingers. She grimaced, but resolutely prodded herself with the candle, trying to stuff the thick end of it into her sex.
"Hmm, won't go," she muttered. "Maybe a little dab of cold cream will help it out. I'm much too dry down there; need some of that hot loving from Emmy! God, I wish she were here to finger it for me!"
The cold cream solved the problem neatly. That is to say, it greatly facilitated the candle's entrance into Liz's cunt. It did nothing, however, to stimulate a liking for that kind of treatment. The girl frowned heavily as she shoved the candle deeper into her body.
There, that must be nearly six inches of it in me, she mused. Ugghh! What a dreadful feeling! Or actually, almost no feeling at all, none that anybody in their right mind could enjoy!
Liz experimented for a few moments. She tried walking around the bedroom with the candle protruding from her hairy twat. She looked at herself in the mirror, smiling to see the bizarre red tip that hung down between her thighs. She seized the end of the candle and twisted it about, trying to stimulate some kind of feeling that she could call enjoyable -- nothing at all! Finally she gave up in disgust, pulled the candle out of her cunt and put it in a drawer of her bureau after wiping the remnants of cold cream off its shaft.
Emmy returned shortly after Liz finished her experiments. The girl laughed with glee when Liz told her of her efforts and demanded a repeat performance. Liz felt ashamed of herself as she complied with Emmy's bawdy request, but she could never resist any of the girl's demands.
"Hey, there's one thing wrong right there," Emmy exclaimed when Liz lifted her foot to the bed and began inserting the candle.
"What?" Liz asked, not understanding.
"You're doing it standing up! Why, a prick never feels any good in that position," Emory said. "Liz, we were made to take that meat in the horizontal position! Here, let me show you ... or maybe, I just might be willing to diddle you. How about that? Want me to fuck you, I mean, really fuck? I bet I could hold that candle between my legs and really go to town on you!"
Liz welcomed the idea, as she always did when Emmy proposed a new wrinkle in the sex line. She quickly undressed, exposing all her lovely body to Emmy's lascivious eyes. Emmy threw off her own clothes, then made Liz lie back on the bed and finger her own pussy as she watched.
"God, it turns me on to watch you play with your pussy," she grunted as she stood at the foot of the bed, her right index finger casually flicking across the growing bud of her clitoris. "Yes, pull the lips out like that! Now spread 'em wide apart, show me the mouth of your cunt! Oh, Liz, you've got such a beautiful little cunt!"
The two girls excited each other by exciting themselves. Emmy soon grew hot enough to want a more active form of play, so she slipped between Liz's upraised knees, the candle in her hand, and poised down at the base of her belly.
"Just imagine I am some man," she whispered hoarsely as she slid over Liz's body. "That I have a giant prick and am about to give it to you for the first time! Liz, darling, let me take your cherry! Give yourself to me!"
How absurd! Liz thought, deep down in her mind. I could never think of you as anything but what you are, my darling!
Liz kept these thoughts to herself, seeing how Emmy was enjoying her masculine fantasy. Instead, she lay silently as the girl placed the thick base of the candle into place and drove it into her body. Liz's cunt still cramped at the thought of being split by any object, no matter what it was or who might be wielding it, but she found herself responding nevertheless to Emmy's pressing body and fervent kisses.
"Give it to me," she hissed into Emmy's ear, following her words with a darting tongue-caress that fired the girl's passions even higher.
Liz fastened her legs around her lover's body and heaved her groin upward. She discovered that she could forget the bothersome presence of the candle; its discomfort was more than compensated for by the pleasure of rubbing the excited lips of her cunt into Emmy's hand as it held the candle firm. Emmy's hips churned and ground their way onward, driving her closer and closer to the orgasmic precipice and then hurtling her over into that never-never land of sexual completion.
Emmy gasped aloud with sudden joy when she felt Liz begin to come. She worked her body back and forth frantically, seeking to join the girl in the throes of ecstasy, then sensed that her womb was twitching in that special, unique way. She felt the hot cream spurt from Liz's pulsating cunt, spewing out onto her hand as ,she kept the candle firmly placed; then her own sex burst forth with spasmodic jerks and quivers that brought a fresh flood of that same feminine oil coursing out into her palm.
"How was that?" she asked, once they caught their breath and lay still, entwined and relaxed.
"As good as ever," Liz replied.
"But no better? Didn't my prick, the candle, make any difference?"
"It bothered me for a while but then I managed to ignore it and concentrate on how good the other parts were."
"Huh!" Emmy sorted. "Liz, I guess you just don't die pricks. Well, some girls are that way. Might as well face up to it, I suppose. How about it? Think you could go down with a man?"
"I really don't know," Liz answered. "I think I could, but I'm really not sure. It would be different, you know, with the real thing. But I'll try, I promise you."
"You'd better! Leslie's not going to put up with this faint-hearted crap much longer. She really means it!"
Liz got a chance to test her resolve within a week. Leslie called them up on Friday and said she'd arranged them a date for Saturday night. A couple of men she especially wanted to impress were going to fly in from the West Coast and talk some business with her; she thought it 'Would be nice to fix them up with a couple of sweet young girls.
"I'd take one of 'em on myself," she explained to Emmy, "except that I've got this dinner to go to and I just cannot get out of it. They're a couple of pretty nice guys and extremely important to me, so I want you to take especially good care of them, understand?"
"Yeah, I understand," Emmy answered.
Leslie gave them the time and place where they were to meet the men and hung up. Emmy explained the engagement to Liz, who immediately threw a temper tantrum.
"Why she's nothing but a pimp! And she's making us her call girls!" she shouted to Emmy.
"What the hell? It's damned good money and easy to make, besides! And for that matter, it isn't all that different from getting up on a stage and shaking your twat in their faces!"
Emmy managed to calm Liz down and get her to promise to try the experiment one more time. There the situation stood until eight o'clock Saturday night, when they met the men who had come to see Leslie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The date began in a friendly fashion. Liz and Emmy went into the bar of the hotel Leslie had designated, inquired of the bartender and were directed to a table in a far corner of the big room. The men, looking to be between thirty-five and forty, rose and introduced themselves. Sam, a pudgy blond with a hearty smile and an effusive air of good will, held out a chair for Liz; Ernie, a tall man with a thick growth of black hair, took Emmy and seated her beside him.
They had a drink and talked casually for a while. Sam and Ernie were both easy conversationalists, and Liz found herself loosening up as the talk rolled on. They agreed upon a place for dinner and took a cab to the restaurant, where Sam and Ernie treated the girls to an excellent dinner. The talk and jollity continued, with the result that it was ten.thirty before they arose from the dinner table.
"Leslie said you girls are dancers," Sam said as Ernie settled up the check with the headwaiter.
"Yes, we have a little act worked up," Emmy replied. "Would you like a demonstration? Or would you rather go on somewhere else and catch in act downtown?"
"Suppose we check out your act?" Sam suggested. "We're always interested in new talent. Leslie may have told you that one reason we're making this trip _ is to sign up some new acts."
"As a matter of fact, she didn't mention it," Liz said. "All she said was that you were friends of hers."
Sam then explained the position. He and Ernie were employees of a Los Angeles firm specializing in supplying talent to television, movies, and night clubs.
" `Talent' includes more than just actors and actresses," Ernie added, having come up in time to catch the end of Sam's explanation. "We're on the lookout for musicians, camera operators, dancers, light men, the whole lot."
That sounds like a lot of work," Liz commented.
"Look, how about going over to the studio?" Emmy suggested. "Leslie won't mind and it's got a stereo set and some of our costumes. And I guess she won't mind us knocking off a little of her booze while we're at it, either!"
This suggestion pleased everyone and they left the restaurant. A cab took them to the studio and Emmy used her key to open up the place. She and Liz fixed the men drinks before excusing themselves and ducking into the dressing room area off the main room.
"Hey, this is a break!" Emmy whispered as soon as they had closed the door behind them. "You know, these guys could get us something good out on the coast! Liz, we've got to put on a first-class show, for them. And do be sure to . . well, to please them!"
"I know," Liz sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Sam doesn't especially turn me on, but he's not such a bad sort, I suppose. I'll try, if he wants to do it to me, but I'm not promising him the best lay he ever had."
"You'd better try," Emmy warned her in a low, tense tone. "Christ, Liz, this is a real chance for us! Those guys might get us into something good out west, and we'd better make sure they have a good time tonight!"
"What about costumes?" Liz asked.
"Uh, let me think a minute," Emmy muttered, screwing up her face and concentrating. Then, after a moment, she said, "Put on those black net hose and that red garter belt. Just leave your panties and bra off and slip that dress on over it all. I'll put on this pair of crotchiess panty hose and hope that'll be enough. Come on, let's hurry!"
The girls quickly changed clothes and went back out to rejoin Sam and Ernie. Emmy searched out a slow, blues LP and put it on the record player. She and Liz began dancing, languidly moving in time to the pulsating beat, and the men watched intently. As they moved slowly around the room, Emmy's fingers worked gently at the zipper on Liz's dress and she gradually eased the garment down off the girl's shoulders.
Liz resisted for a moment, hating to show her naked breasts to the leering men, but Emmy's insistent fingers won out. The dress dropped to her waist and hung there. Emmy moved in closer, clasping her hands to Liz's hips and holding her pussy tightly against the bulging love mound welling out from between the girl's thighs.
"Now undo my dress and take it down," she whispered to Liz, her eyes dark and luminous with excitement. "We'll dance and rub pussies and touch nipples ... that ought to really turn them on!"
"I hate to do it with them looking on," Liz whispered, her cheeks turning a bright red. "It's so intimate! And they're just gawking; they don't really care anything about us."
"Do it!" Emmy hissed, a sharp edge coming into her voice. "Do it just the way I told you or I swear I'll never even look at you again! If you screw up this assignment you can just go back to finger-fucking yourself for all I care!"
Liz bit her lip and forced back the tears of indignant shame she felt welling up in her eyes. Although she despised herself for permitting the lascivious men to see her at play with her loved one, Emmy's harsh words carried more weight. She did as she was told and unfastened the girl's dress. Emmy writhed delicately, getting her arms out of the garment, and then proceeded to rub her swollen, dark nipples across the ivory mounds swelling out from Liz's chest. Liz gasped with delight when she felt those hot cones of lusty womanhood scrape across her own nipples; she was highly excited in spite of Sam and Ernie, and she could not suppress her rising tide of sensual expectations.
They continued to dance, and bit by bit Emmy managed to get them out of their dresses. When their naked pussies began rubbing against each other, Liz was perilously close to having a climax. Emmy sensed her rapidly peaking excitement and moved away, not willing to let her come so soon. She forced Liz onto her knees and stood before her, positioning themselves so that Sam and Ernie could have a good view of what she in-tended for them. Liz knew what was coming and she shuddered with revulsion at the prospect, but her trembling body obeyed Emmy's commands.
Emmy moved closer, shoving her pussy into the girl's face, and stood there fucking herself against Liz's waiting mouth. She had her legs spread wide, and her moist, hot little slit easily slipped against the girl's tongue, anointing it with her steaming love juices. Liz completely forgot about the watching men in her eagerness to service the lusty hole between Emmy's trim thighs.
"There, that's enough of that," Emmy snapped when the record came to the end; she abruptly moved away, ignoring the hurt look on Liz's face. "Come on, get up and let's go see what they thought of the act."
"But I didn't make you come!" Liz wailed. "And I'm still hot; I never got to come myself
"Silly, that's what Sam and Ernie are here for," Emmy laughed.
"That was some show," Ernie said when they came before him. "You girls really know your business."
"Yes sir, that little girl there," Sam added, looking at Liz, "acts like she just loves eating a hot cunt!"
"She does," Emmy said, ignoring the gasp of resentment from her friend. "But then she doesn't mind some other pastimes either!"
"Come on, Liz," Sam said, going over to her and throwing his muscular arm around her waist. "Let's go over to that couch over there and talk about these things."
Liz allowed herself to be led away, though it was fairly clear that she was paying only slight attention to Sam. She turned her head slightly and saw Ernie standing up and beginning to undress; Emmy stood before him and watched expectantly as the man bared his flesh.
"No need looking over there to check," Sam told her, pulling her around with a rude hand. "I've got Ernie beat every way when it comes down to the cock department. Here, see for yourself."
He took Liz's hand and guided it down to the bulging lance that reared out from his hairy loins. While she had been looking at Emmy, Sam had opened his trousers and dropped them, along with his underwear, and her hand fell upon the naked shaft of his hot, stiff prick. Liz grasped the tool for a few seconds, not realizing what she was holding, but then she turned and saw the enormity of the weapon in her fingers.
"Oohh!" she cried out, pulling her hand back and shrinking away from him in fright. "No, I won't touch it; I won't. Get it away from me!"
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, looking bewildered. "Baby, this thing is Grade A Prime meat! It's been in some of the best runts around and it ain't never been less than one hundred percent effective!"
"I don't care!" Liz cried out, resisting Sam's efforts to pull her closer to him. "I won't have it; I hate those awful things!"
Sam's face flushed brightly when he understood that Liz was deadly serious and that she intended to have nothing to do with him.
"What the hell's going on here?" he snarled. "You trying to put on the virgin act or something? Do you know I got a hard-on that won't quit and that you've got just the remedy for it right there between your legs? Come on, girlie, get them legs spread out and lift that snatch up here so I can sock it to you!"
"What's up?" Emmy asked, sitting up from the couch where Ernie had pushed her. "Liz, are you acting silly again?"
"Acting silly my ass!" Sam fumed. "This little bitch is acting like she never saw a prick before! You'd think I had the clap or something!"
"Liz, this is too much," Emmy burst out. You're carrying this act just a bit too far. I'm warning you!"
"I can't help it," Liz whimpered, blinking back her tears and looking up at Emmy with her love shining in her wet eyes. "I just can't stand the thought of him putting that dreadful thing in my cunt! I hate those things. They're so big and red and ugly! Please don't make me do it to him, darling. Please!"
"Shit, it won't hurt you," Emmy sniffed, ignoring the adoring look Liz directed at her. "There are plenty of girls that would love to get their pussy around a love-stick like that one! Come on, Sam, if you want to fuck her, I'll hold her for you. It'll do her good to get reamed out by that cock of yours!"
"Emmy!" Liz cried out, horrified. You can't mean it, you just can't!"
"What's wrong with her?" Ernie demanded, having come over to see what was happening. "Has she got a cherry or something?"
"She's just scared of pricks," Emmy told him. "No, she doesn't have a cherry. I've had my fingers in her too often to have any doubts about that. I don't think she's ever been cock-fucked, though."
"All right, girlee," Sam said, leering down at Liz and massaging his heavy cock with his fingers, "if you're so uptight about taking meat up your funnel, I'll tell what I'll do. I'll let you take it up your ass! That way you'll still be able to say that no man has ever violated that precious pussy of yours!"
"It's either that or your cunt," Emmy told her.
Together they flipped Liz on her belly. Ernie helped spread her legs wide and Sam knelt between them. He moistened the tip of his prick, spitting into his hand and wiping the saliva on the bulging, flaring tip, and was just on the point of leaning over when the door to the studio opened.
Leslie walked into the room and immediately stopped. She was followed by Jordan Wentworth and her husband, Bill. Quickly, Emmy filled the trio in on what was about to happen.
"Terrific!" Leslie cried out. "Let me get undressed and I'll help you put the meat to the little bitch!"
She took up a position over the girl's back, facing the frantic Liz's feet. She spread her own legs wide, displaying' her lust-inflamed pussy, and giggling insanely. Motioning to Sam, she drew him forward and anointed the head of his big prick with a wet, tongue-lapping kiss. Having prepared him for the entrance, she now guided the stiff rod down between the girl's buttocks, searching out the tiny, wrinkled opening with a finger, and then seating the head of the man's prick the way a carpenter seats a nail. "Aiieee!" Liz screamed as the persistent rod made its way in, stroke by ripping' stroke.
"Hey, this kid's tighter than anything I've ever fucked before," Sam grunted. "I can feel her clenching up her gut, trying to keep me out. Ugghhh. You're going to have yourself an assful of cock in a minute now ... in a minute ... in a minute ... Unggg!"
Leslie had retreated up Liz's spine when Sam had given his first push. She now lifted herself into a sitting position and thrust her livid pussy at his face. He blinked when he saw the juicy, swollen lips of her cunt coming toward him, then grinned eagerly.
"Want to eat some pussy?" Leslie muttered, her eyes dancing with erotic glee. "You can fuck her ass while you muff dive. Hmm?"
"Oh, God, you're killing me," Liz sobbed, finally able to speak. You're tearing me apart. I'll never be able to walk again! Agghh! Ohhhh!"
Sam continued to plunge in and out of the tight hole, his prick becoming even redder with each stroke, while his tongue worked furiously up and down the moist, steamy slit Leslie held out to him.
The Wentworths stood in a corner watching, but not partaking.
Sam's body went into upthrusts. "Ohhh ... ohhh ... the little bitch is working with me now ... sapping the cum out of me. Now you got it baby, take it! Anggggggg!"
"The little bitch is done for," Ernie announced. "Now let's go back to our suite. Get some booze. It's time for some serious drinking.
They all agreed, and within minutes Liz was left alone on the floor, except for the couple standing in the corner of the room. Only after minutes of silence, did Jordan and her husband bend over the girl, and then bathe her rectum with salve and damp towels. As the gentle. strokes eased the pain, Liz looked up into their eyes. She knew she had found friends that would be an important part of her life from then on. They cleaned her up, and then Jordan looked at her with large, doe-like eyes.
"We must have a talk, Liz, darling."
* * *
The warm water, the salve, and the comfort of Jordan's gentle fingers helped, and Liz was sitting listening to the woman talk.
"As you may recall, Bill and I have a peculiar arrangement. Whenever I begin wanting a woman, he doesn't mind if I go out and get one. Same when he wants some strange pussy. Now, what I was thinking ... would you like to come and stay with us for a while. You could be my secretary. And at some time in the future, if you decide that you might want to make love ... gentle love, I assure you ... with a man ... well Bill can introduce you to that world too."
Liz nodded her head, crying.
"We'll give it a few weeks to see if it works. Hmmm?"
And the lovely older woman smiled.
Bill smiled.
And, although still in pain, Liz smiled too.
* * *
Jordan gave Liz a tastefully furnished bedroom in their lavish house, pointing out that she and Bill were just across the hall. In the weeks that followed, Jordan continually told Liz how lovely she was, how her gorgeous breasts pointed out to fine points of perfect nipples, how she had explained to Bill, while he was fucking her, how she'd love to eat Liz.
The conversations and the gentle approach affected Liz.
And she watched Jordan and Bill make love one day, watched Jordan frig herself with a dildo another day, heard the woman cry out `Aggghhh! Oohhh!" clutching and clawing her pussy, coming madly right before the girl's wide eyes.
Just these watchings began to make Liz's own cunt turn into hot, flowing jelly.
Soon Liz was completely healed, both mentally and physically from Sam's abuse, and by then the girl had fallen hopelessly in love with the older woman.
It was on a Sunday morning, fifteen days after Liz had moved in with the couple, that the young girl first felt the woman run her tongue over the hot length of her steaming pussy. Yes! She wanted this woman ... more than she had ever wanted Emmy ... And in time, she came to want the taste of Bill's hot sperm in her mouth ... but never, ever in her vagina.
* * *
She remained with them for two years before the relationship wore itself thin. Then she moved out and took her own apartment not far from their house. The couple had introduced her to many of their lesbian friends, and it was time for a far more mature Liz to gather her own harem.
Liz married a doctor two years later. He had been married before, had divorced his prudish first wife because she never could stand the thought of oral sex. Liz made it plainly understood that that was all he'd ever get from her. And when he agreed to be the same kind of understanding husband that Bill had been to his wife, that Liz could have her bisexual fling whenever the mood moved her, they eloped and left on a European honeymoon.
The good doctor received his first taste of the new and liberated relationship on that honeymoon, while in Paris.
An opera-singing chambermaid who spoke no English, but the cutest French, caught Liz's fancy. It took the now well-experienced Liz just one hour to have the dark-haired and tiny girl naked and in bed while doctor-hubby watched them with eager eyes. Liz had the girl's legs up over her own shoulders and was licking furiously at the soft dark patch of hair between the French, soft white thighs.
"I think this prescription is going to work out just fine," he smiled.
And then he climbed aboard too, slipping his stiff penis in and out of the hungrily working French lips.
And Liz? She never gave Emmy another thought in her life.
