"... the immortal child in us is frustrated, even in the sexual act, by the tyranny of genital organization ... genital organization ... is a tyranny at war with the natural tendency of the human body, which is anarchistic and polymorphously perverse."
-Norman Brown, Life Against Death
We live in an age of expanding love, love which all too often has been defined in exclusively sexual terms. Sex may be an aspect of love and love may be an aspect of sex, but the words are not synonymous. Beyond the problem of symphysis. ("Prove to me you love me, baby; go to bed with me"), the resulting social confusion has played a major role in the development of a highly destructive and dangerously wide-spread atmosphere of intensely personal alienation.
The confusion limits not only the love experience, but the sexual one as well. The problem is at least as old as the British settlement of New England. The Puritan ethic in this country has resulted in an emotional milieu of jealousy, possessiveness and insecurity-all psychologically dangerous elements. The ethic, however, is a concrete one, easily understood by a wide segment of the population. The very fact of its apparent simplicity has led to a wide-spread acceptance of the ethic.
The old ways die hard. One can hardly pick up a newspaper without finding some reference to the fact that America is in the throes of a sexual revolution. The ethical aims of the revolution are anything but concrete; indeed, at times they appear to be so abstract as to be amorphic. The only discernible area of general agreement in the propaganda being issued by the diverse leadership of the movement is that a more "humane" sexual ethic is needed. Fine! But just what does "more humane" mean?"
The process of actualizing such an abstract change, especially when much of the propaganda continues to confuse love and sex, has proven to be a monumental task. Until quite recently, the complicated process of relating sexually to another person-especially for females-has been rigidly defined by our culture and, historically, punishment for transgression of the definition has been swift and frequently has resulted in an emotional-crippling of the transgressor. Words like whore and harlot and stud, even lover, have been wheeled as effectively as an axe at the head of offenders, producing a psychological decapitation only slightly less awesome than its physical counterpart. This sort of subliminal tyranny has mesmerized large segments of the population into hopeless submissiveness and branded those individuals who have purposely attempted to resist it as deviants-a word with negative social and psychological overtones which far exceeds its dictionary definition.
To those of us with a stake in the future of this country, the challenge should be obvious. What is being called for is not more militant propaganda but an all-out effort to create an atmosphere wherein individuals may feel the freedom to break the hold of the institutional forces of genital-organization-to break them in as creatively and in as many ways as those who are involved mutually feel comfortable with.
You have in your hand a novel of one young woman's struggle to achieve a liberated sexual ethic ... and in the process to learn to differentiate between love and sex. Her struggle is, in a very real way, a microcosm of the conflict we all face-or will face, in one way or another. The novel is written by an author with keen insight into contemporary society and into the psychological motivation of a young heroine's search for sexual expression....
We, the publishers, urge you to read this novel.
The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Fear, raw and sprawling, filled her eyes ... But naked now ... Completely naked....
As naked as the day she had entered the world....
Twenty-year-old Donna K. Williamson sucked in a deep, deep breath of air to steel herself for the ordeal which she felt awaited her. She hesitated for a moment, shrugged, and then stepped from the bathroom into the plush, frankly sensuous-if somewhat, to her thinking, affected-bedroom of Suite 21, the Good Knight's Inn.
Although it hadn't been her conscious intention to do so, that reaction to her fear, that simple, natural act-the filling of her lungs with air-had done some rather fantastic sort of things to her full, ripely firm, pear-shaped breasts and the hard, tight, twin little, hot-hot-pink mountains which capped them.
The trick's eyes grew big and round as she appeared at the entrance of the bedroom, and he let out a long, low, lingering whistle in obvious appreciation of the merchandise he had just purchased ... or at least in obvious appreciation of the bright, sparkling, zestful sort of packaging that merchandise came in.
Donna tried to smile but failed miserably.
Help me, help me....
There was something about her, about the total impact of her femininity which conjured up visions of the American Midwest ... of Kansas in late summer ... and of a raw and ready, full-blown, biting, earthy, and radiant sort of healthfulness which comes with farm living.
Actually, Donna had been born in Youngstown, Ohio, and raised in Cleveland ... cities devoted to the manufacture of steel and removed from the ripe cornfields and clear, blue skies of Kansas as one can possibly get ... and still be in the United States.
She was a tall woman-nearly five-eight in her bare feet-and she carried herself in a fiercely proud, almost regal sort of manner. As frightened as she was at the moment, her every movement still managed to convey something of the ballet-yes, and something of the jungle cat on the prowl, too She walked with her shoulders held back and her chin tilted ever-so-slightly upward.
Regal and fiercely proud....
There was a magical quality about her hair.
It was the color of raw honey in a water glass being held up to the midday sun in summer, natural and savage, excitingly alive, and it fell full and rich and loose to a point about two-thirds of the way down her long, slender, smoothly tapered back.
Under any sort of light but especially under a bright, summer sun, the least sort of movement of her head gave birth to thousands and thousands of catch lights in her hair, catch lights that were colored in vibrant reds and yellows and golds and seemed to dance and play and frolic in the most reckless sort of manner there in the soft, gentle folds and waves which held them captive.
Her eyes were cornflower blue, huge, wide and seemingly innocent. Her nose was pert if a bit pugged, and her lips were full and moist and ripe. She had a crazy little habit of running the tip of her tongue over the rim of her lips-a nervous habit, nothing more, a thing she had developed as a child and carried over into her adult life, and yet the effect of her action was undeniably sexual, savagely so ... that many a male had felt his blood begin to boil, his manhood suddenly spring to life with need and desire while viewing the motion of her hot-pink tongue as it traveled ever-so-slowly around the outline of her lips.
Her body was like a poem composed of softly curving lines, graceful, slender without being thin ... and totally female, pale and smooth, golden. Her shoulders were a bit wide, but then they had to be to support her breasts, for they were huge, impeccably shaped and perfectly matched, unmarred by so much as a single stretch-mark, and the nipples there were firm and ripe, seemingly stretching upward toward the heavens. Her waist was thin, her tummy flat and smooth, and a wild, triangular-shaped patch of curly, golden fuzz seemed to stand sentinel above her vagina.
Help me, help me....
The trick's eyes seemed to be drinking her in, hotly, savagely, inch by painful inch, savoring each and every golden drop, as if her body were a rare and vintage wine.
Please, help me....
"Is something wrong, Donna?"
For the first time, Donna allowed herself to look at his manhood. It stood hard, erect ... and huge.
It's so big, so ... beautifully monstrous....
As if in response to her thoughts, like a kid showing off, his penis began to pulse and jerk, to whip about wildly ... and the honey-blonde began to tremble in fear and anticipation.
It fascinated her, that beautiful monster.
She felt herself being drawn to it, felt herself wanting to ... touch it. Her own thoughts seemed to add to her sense of fear. They were so crazy, so ... shamefully insane, and yet she couldn't deny the fact that she found herself wondering what it might feel like to have that much man stuffed up inside of her ... to feel that proud, bold, and heavy monster as it made its way hotly in and out, in and out of her cave of love.
Donna very nearly screamed. "What is it?" the trick asked. "Huh? What?"
"I asked if anything were wrong?"
"Oh, no ... no," Donna said, unable to hide or control the tremor in her voice. "It's ... it's nothing. Really, I ... that is, I ... I...."
She felt as helpless as a newborn infant.
It was as if her fear of the situation she found herself in had produced a short circuit somewhere in her brain. She could think of nothing ... absolutely nothing even remotely intelligent to say to this man who had ... had ... purchased the use of her body to satisfy his sexual needs.
Help me ... somebody, anybody ... help me!
The trick looked deeply into Donna's eyes for what she felt was the longest time. His deep brown eyes, as they probed her, seemed so gentle, so filled with with ... with what? Well, there was no denying the fantastic sense of fiery and urgent sexual need she found there, but there seemed to be something more there, too; something she found inappropriate in the situation-real concern for her as a flesh and blood human being.
But how can that be? she asked herself. Why should he care anything at all about me as a person? After all, I'm just a ... a thing, something for him to use and then discard as casually as he would a newspaper or something.
"It's rather obvious that something is, indeed, wrong, Donna," the trick said, his voice soft and gentle, strangely sad. "Very, very wrong...."
"No, I...."
"Please, let me help...." His concern confused her.
He isn't acting like a trick-not at all. He's acting like ... well, almost like a lover! "Really, Donna, I'd like to help...."
"Well, I ... I...."
"Look, Donna," he said "Valarie and I are old and good friends, and-well, she told me that this was your first time out ... your first time to ever turn a trick. I think that I can understand what it is that you're feeling at the moment. You're apprehensive about ... well, about everything, really. So ... relax, won't you? We've got the whole afternoon ahead of us."
Suddenly there was fire in Donna's eyes.
His words had sounded so damn patronizing to her--almost as if she were a scared and lost little kid and he a big and friendly policeman. If there was anything she hated, really hated, it was to be patronized by anyone-especially if that anyone happened to be a male.
Screw you and your understanding, too, Buster.
She didn't want his concern, his interest in her as a person. After all, theirs was strictly a business arrangement-the use of her body in exchange for his money. Her need to deny the fiercely gnawing itch that had developed there in between her legs didn't do much to help the situation for her, either.
Her anger continued to mount, fed by her sense of confusion-a great, sprawling bitch of an anger which seemed to be swelling up to epic proportions inside her, threatening to burst. It was typical of Donna, over-reacting-especially when she was in a state of confusion. Momentarily, anyway the anger seemed to drive away all trace of her fear of the situation.
She glared at the trick, her hands on her hips-a bold and defiant sort of pose. The tip of her tongue traveled slowly over the rim of her lips as her body seemed to hurl a wordless challenge at him and the trick began to moan softly deep within his throat.
"Donna I ... oh damn, woman ... back off a step or two or you're going to have me spilling my load all over the place before I even touch you."
"Do you have to look at me like that?" Donna snapped.
A wide easy sort of grin came to the trick's face.
"Damnit, do you?" she demanded. "Do you, do you?"
"Do what?" the trick said, a slight edge to his usually calm and casual tone-an edge that seemed somehow to make his voice even more heavily vibrant, more resonantly deep and rich ... fantastically sensual.
"You ... you're still doing it," Donna sputtered. The grin seemed to widen on the trick's face. "STOP IT...."
He was obviously-although to Donna, inexplicably-pleased by her behavior. The simple truth was that he liked a woman with a touch of erratic fire to her nature, one with spunk and backbone. Experience had taught him that a woman with those qualities almost always made sex the free and wild thing he needed and wanted-indeed, demanded. His manhood stood out stiffly, pulsing like a jungle animal in anticipation of a hard and sprawling confrontation with the love cave of the honey-blonde.
"Stop it, stop it...."
"You still haven't told me what it is I'm supposed to be doing, Donna," he said.
"I ... I don't know how to put it into words," Donna said. "But ... well, the way you look at me ... it makes me feel as if ... as if I were nothing more than a hunk of hanging meat...."
The grin slipped from the trick's face.
"Oh, Donna ... that certainly wasn't my intention," he said. "Really, I ... oh, wow ... look, Donna, you're a very beautiful woman, wildly and excitingly so, and ... well, I just happen to be a man who loves and appreciates all truly beautiful things. Is there really anything so terribly wrong with that? Really? Is there?"
His words were so simple, so direct and honest ... and they totally disarmed the honey-blonde. She could actually feel them at work, making their way through blood and muscle and bone, draining every last drop of anger from her smooth, golden body.
"I ... I don't know what to say. You've got me so darn confused. You're not at all what I expected a trick to be like-not even a little bit."
The grin was back on the trick's face.
The burst of anger Donna had felt was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of guilt. After all, she reasoned, he really hadn't done anything wrong! And what right did she, a call girl, have to be angry, anyway? With the guilt came a rebirth of her fear of the situation.
The trick lay sprawled out on his back on the bed, waiting, naked, too, and ... and ready. Oh, was he ever ready.
A shudder rippled through Donna's body, the itch there in between her legs began to scream for attention. She began to tremble and she had to keep reminding herself to breathe. The fires of her own sense of anticipation turned large areas of her usually smooth, golden skin to gooseflesh.
The trick held his arms out to the honey-blonde.
"Come," he said, "join me...."
Donna found herself looking for something in the trick's warm, dark eyes. There was so much tenderness there, so much human compassion, so much ... well, so much understanding of her fear of the situation.
He certainly doesn't look like the type of guy who would have to pay a girl to go to bed with him, she decided. Even if he is on the wrong side of forty.
There was a touch of gray at the temples of his otherwise coal-black hair. His nose appeared to have been broken and dipped a bit to one side, and there were traces of smile lines at the corners of his eyes and lips ... but his body was lean and young, tall and powerful and agile, like an athlete in his primefinely toned and muscled, without a single trace of flab or sag.
"There's nothing to fear," he said. "Come ... let me love you...."
Donna managed to take a hesitant step or two toward the bed, then suddenly pulled up short-frozen in her tracks, her whole body shaking. Her lips moved, sucking air, like a fish out of water, but the words which took form in her mind refused to leave her mouth.
You're acting like a silly goose, she tried to tell herself. After all, it's not as if you were still a silly little virgin ... as if that dark and beautiful thing on the bed was the first man you had ever gone to bed with.
Her head seemed to be spinning like a top and it felt as if her legs were about to give out from under her. She wanted to scream, to turn and run, to hide ... to beat it the hell out of that expensive motel, that city, that ... that universe. She wanted to find Valarie and tell her that she couldn't, she simply couldn't go through with it ... not at that moment anyway, probably not ever, not even if it meant that she would be forced to drop out of Cutter College with only a semester to go to graduation.
Sweet mother of mercy....
Sex simply wasn't a commodity, something to be bought or sold on the open market, like so many pounds of soybeans-or even like a fine painting, a work of art. It had to be meaningful ... and its primary meaning was an expression of love, of great and abiding love. Oh, sure, it was a means of continuing the race, too, but anything other than those two things cheapened it in Donna's eyes, changed it into something foul and dirty ... evil!
Oh, Valarie, how could I have ever allowed you to talk me into this ... this insanity?
"Look, Mister...."
"Call me Bob, Donna."
"Listen ... Bob ... I'm sorry but I really can't go through with this."
"It'll be all right, Donna. Really, you'll see."
"And please stop saying that," Donna screamed. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face in great, hot, gushing rivers. "It's not all right ... it's not all right at all...."
Suddenly, the trick was up from the bed with his strong, muscular arms wrapped tightly around the trembling body of the honey-blonde. She felt herself begin to melt as he flooded her face with kisses and then-unexpectedly, her lips found his mouth.
"Oh, Bob...."
"Donna ... Donna...."
There was something more than a vague sense of urgency there in her lips, something she was unable, unwilling to suppress any longer ... something wild with need, hot and intense, alive and throbbing with fiery desire, something inviting, demanding and very, very wet.
"Oh, Bob...."
"Yes, Donna...."
"You must help me...."
"Yes, yes...."
"The bed," Donna moaned, her voice a harsh, gnawing whisper. "Please ... oh please Bob, help me ... my legs are so weak."
He swept her up in his arms and then deposited her ever-so-gently on the black, silk-sheet covered mattress, holding her in a viselike grip against him-a grip so tight that she could actually feel the points of her nipples against his chest as they grew hard and began to pulsate, wordlessly screaming their great and terrible need.
"It's crazy," Donna said in a tiny little voice, "but ... oh, Bob ... I want you. I ... I need you. Oh, I need you so very much...."
"Oh, Donna...."
"It's all so crazy, so insane...."
"And wonderful, too?"
"Yes ... and wonderful," Donna cried.
The trick cupped the fingers of his right hand gently over one of Donna's huge, pear-shaped breasts, and began to knead the hard, quivering little mountain of pink flesh he found there between his thumb and forefinger. His lips left her hot, liquid mouth and began to travel slowly down across her chin to her neck, leaving little silver trails of moisture in their wake.
"Oh, yes ... yes, Bob," Donna cried. "Yes ... yes ... yes. Oh Bob ... lover ... lover...."
His tongue flicked snakelike from his mouth, and then he drove it fiercely into Donna's ear ... and the frightened girl began to moan, throbbingly, deep within her throat, as her hips began to roll gently, almost imperceptibly from side to side in undulation.
Their bodies were moist now glistening in expectation. The very air surrounding them seemed to be heavy, charged with electricity ... and everywhere there seemed to be the strange aroma Donna always associated with sex ... brown sugar and pencil-shavings.
It was a new experience for the golden one, having sex with a man she didn't really know, a terrible and frightening sort of thing ... and yet heady and delicious as well. His tongue continued to bore in on its target, fluttering away wetly ... and then, suddenly, Donna began to shudder as hot little animal noises gurgled away in her throat. Quickly, she pulled her head away from the bold and reckless lapping of Bob's tongue-as if she could no longer bear the fierce and fiery pleasure it had produced.
"It ... oh, Bob ... so very nice."
She buried her wet ear against the pillow in selfdefense ... and the trick elected to move the attention of his lips and teeth and tongue to her thin, golden throat, sucking and nibbling and licking as he went.
"Bob ... lover...."
Moving gently now, gently, but with a real, nononsense sort of determination, too, she cupped her hands around the back of his head and directed his mouth toward her ripe pulsing breasts ... and the trick offered no resistance to her silent command, none at all. He kissed one of the hard, tortured nipples his mouth found there-a quick and playful, agonizing, moist little kiss of exploration, and the fingers of her hands, as if they had a will of their own, immediately tightened their grip on his head--afraid that he might have decided to call it quits after that one, tiny, all-too-brief buzz.
"So ... so good, lover," she cried. "It's ... oh, Bob ... it's so very, very good."
The trick began to trace hot, moist, circular little trails all around and around the outer edge of her quivering nipple with the tip of his tongue. He watched in fascination as that tiny mountain changed color from a soft, pale pink to a brooding, angry red ... but still he steadfastly refused to make direct contact with that screaming bit of flesh.
Closer, his tongue moved. Closer and closer and ... the animal noises gurgling away in Donna's throat grew louder and more intense. She tried to force her nipple against his tongue, but every time she came close the trick would suck his tongue back into his mouth ... and her sense of frustration began to manifest itself in the form of a long, low, wailing cry of anguish.
"Oh, please ... please, lover," she cried. "Kiss my nipples ... please ... please, please...."
Her body began to writhe violently, like a snake that had run amuck, rippling across the silken-sheet, and she cried and pleaded and begged ... but it wasn't until her wail of anguish began to truly sing and pulse, not until her shoulders were really trembling with the strain of their effort to raise her nipples to his mouth, not until he was certain that her sense of need was exploding like a series of thunderbolts throughout her entire body, not until then did he take that convulsing little mountain of angry red flesh up into his mouth and begin to suck on it. He held it captive with the pressure of his lips while his tongue began to make a symphony of the purest sort of sensation, a sensation that was at once both an exhilarating sort of pain and an agonizing sort of pleasure as it made its way over and around and across that bit of tormented, cone-shaped meat touching and sliding, twirling and twisting and rolling, fluttering, gliding, wet and fiercely hot, now reckless in its abandon, now gentle in its sweetness, but always loving ... and moving, moving, moving. It seemed to carry Donna to the razor edge of her sanity ... and with each new pass of his fiery tongue the soft and graceful hips of the would-be school teacher-turned-novice-call girl seemed to quicken the tempo of their undulation.
"Oh, Bob ... lover, I ... ohoooohhhh...."
While his lips and teeth and tongue were busy at her nipple, the trick allowed his free hand to travel slowly, oh, ever-so-slowly down across Donna's tight, trim, trembling belly, and down, down, down, deliberately down, down through the tuft of curly, golden fuzz which stood over her screaming sheath; down, down, down, moving as if in a dream, a nightmare where all motion has been slowed to a snail-pace, and it seemed to Donna that a century had passed before she finally felt the tips of his fingers come to rest on the lips of her bubbling little witch's cauldron-a cauldron already so hot that its magical brew of thick, syrupy juice had churned its way up to the surface of that mound of soft, viscid, velvety-red, spongy flesh there in between her legs and was now in the process of slowly seeping down onto her trembling inner thighs.
Donna moaned, and there seemed to be a hint of something primal in the sound she made-something as old as the first man and woman, something as new as the first golden drop of tomorrow's dawn. The muscles of her inner thighs began to twitch, the cords there snapping and straining, protesting their torment, and then, without really being aware of the fact that she was doing it, she moved her long, smoothly tapered legs, spreading them ever-so-slightly ... and exposing all of her tortured, liquid-colored vulva to the touch of his hotly probing fingertips.
"Oh, Bob...."
The tips of his fingers moved in what seemed like an endless series of long, feathery, figure-eight sort of patterns along the wet, shimmering lips of her wildly pulsing vagina, producing sparks of super-charged passion-sparks which very quickly began to flood their way out of her bubbling cauldron and then surged and crackled and sang their way to every part of her glistening body.
"Oh, feel how wet, lover," Donna cried. "So wet and ... and ... oh, Bob ... feel ... feel, lover ... stick your finger down inside me and feel how very, very wet you've made me."
"Oh, Donna...."
"Please, lover ... now ... don't make me wait!" The trick gently separated the dripping lips of her hot, quivering vagina ... and Donna cried out in the wildest sort of joy as suddenly he plunged his hard, stiff middle finger down, down, deeply into that wet, rippling, fiery mouth of her cave of love.
"Yes, lover ... yes, yes, yes...."
"Oh, sweet woman," the trick cried as he felt the inner walls of her vagina suddenly contract around his finger. "I ... I've never felt anything quite like that before. It's so ... different...."
"For me, too, lover. It feels so good, Bob ... so good and right. Oh, lover ... lover...."
His manhood lay hard and pulsing against the side of her leg, its throbbing like the rhythm of a jungle drum, wild and primitive. She wanted more than anything to reach out and touch it, to take it gently in her hand, to curl her slender fingers sweetly, lovingly around its beautiful girth, and then to rub and stroke and caress it ... but the weight of the trick's body had her pinned solidly to the surface of the bed, preventing her from moving into a position where she might reach it.
"Oh, Bob ... Bob ... please, please...."
He seemed not to hear her.
"Please, Bob, I ... I...."
She had been about to ask him to move his body--not much-just enough so that she might be able to reach his penis with her hand, to bring him even a small measure of the fantastic sense of pleasure she was experiencing at that moment, but then the tip of his finger brushed ever-so-lightly against her hard, screaming clitoris and sky-rockets began to explode within her head as pinwheels of bright, swirling light raced to every nook and cranny of her body ... and she quickly lost all thought of everything except the awesome drive of her great and sprawling need.
Her hips continued to move from side to side in that ancient rhythm of undulation, a natural sort of action-free and graceful, but it no longer seemed enough to satisfy her howling need, and so she began to thrust her vagina upward at about the midway point in the roll of her hips, up, up, and up, sweeping it back and forth, grinding, the muscles in her buttocks rippling with their new activity, the tuft of curly, golden pubic hair suddenly heavy and wet with a feverish sense of expectation. Her movements grew wilder and wilder, searing with a zestful scream of complete and total abandonment to her sexuality ... and each new thrust of her hips and buttocks sent her raw, dripping witch's cauldron higher and ever-higher as she strained frantically to meet the downward strokes of the trick's bold and wildly probing finger.
"Faster, lover," she cried. "Oh, it feels so ... so wonderful, Bob, but please ... faster, faster...."
"Would you like me to eat you?"
"Oh, yes ... yes, yes...."
He gave her rock-hard nipple one last, tender little flick of farewell with his tongue and then began to nibble and kiss and lick his way down slowly from her breast; down, down, down across the quivering, goose bump-covered flesh of her belly, and down, down, his lips and teeth and tongue developing a crazy little rhythm as they made their way slowly toward their ultimate destination.
"Oh, Bob," Donna cried. "Oh, sweet man ... oh, sweet, sweet lover man...."
Down, down, down....
Slowly, painfully down....
The trick seemed to be aware in only the vaguest sort of way of the knotting of the muscles in her belly as they began to respond to the bold and liquid magic of his thick, heavy tongue and hot, nibbling lips ... and her agony of that moment was joyously rich and sweet.
Down, down....
To that triangular-shaped patch of curly, golden fuzz in the soft, spongy mound of flesh above her vagina. The trick paused for a moment and then began to suck away wildly at the dew which held her pubic hair matted to her skin, and he really seemed to savor each and every drop of the rich and heady nectarous secretion he found there, and then lower-lower and lower, and still lower, playfully teasing as he resisted the ever-increasing pressures of Donna's hands as they tried in the most desperate sort of way to hurry his lips and tongue to her waiting, quivering, and very, very wet cave of love. Her body began to jerk, rippling away wildly with convulsive spasms.
At last, at long last, his mouth found her vagina and he placed a warm, feathery-light sort of kiss on the gooey rim of her vulva ... and Donna began to moan and cry, her breath coming in short, loud bursts as she struggled to keep her lungs filled with air, and then her whole body began to move, erupting in violent and awesome anticipation of the trick's next ploy.
"Oh, Bob ... lover...."
The aroma of Donna's musk was strong and dark, strangely sweet ... and the trick paused to enjoy it for a moment or two before he went on to the meat of his task. He began simply enough with a long and surging sort of licking action which had his tongue traveling around and around the entire length of the raw and trembling lips there at the opening to that piece of volcanic passion ... and then he sent his fearless invader corkscrewing down into the wild and wondrous darkness of her wet and meaty, velvety-red Vesuvius.
"The clit," Donna screamed. "Please, oh, please ... get the clit, lover...."
The trick began to work the tip of his tongue feverishly through the folds of spongy flesh there at the top of her vulva-the heavy folds which kept hid den her hard, screaming clitoris. It twisted and lapped and swirled, that tongue did, digging away frantically in its search for that tragic little button of hot, pink, bursting flesh.
Finally, it found its target....
Donna let out a squeal of pure delight ... and then she jumped, high up into the air, her legs bowing like a frog as her buttocks shot up off the silken sheet ... and when it touched down again she immediately began to scoot it all over the surface of the bed, rolling about in a sort of zigzag pattern from side to side, twisting and writhing, howling out her fantastic sense of joy for all the world to hear.
Somehow, as her body continued to gyrate in the most impossible sort of manner, the trick managed to hang on to his tasty treasure, sucking and licking away at it like crazy ... and then, as the honey blonde fell quiet for a moment, he drew it up deeply into his mouth where his lips held it captive with their suction while his thick and heavy tongue whipped away like a vibrator across the tippy-most part of that fiercely angry cone of quivering, pink flesh.
"Oh, Bob," Donna cried. "I ... I don't know how much more of this ... this wonderful sort of insanity I can stand. Oh, lover ... easy ... Bob ... easy ... oh, lover ... lover...."
Donna began to whimper, sounding for all the world like a helpless puppy crying for mercy, but the trick never let up for a moment ... he continued with his piece of magic, his lips and tongue growing bolder, more reckless with each new stroke of his raw, explosive passion.
"Lover ... oh, lover ... oh, oh, ohhhhh...."
The trick got up on his knees, dug his fingers deeply into the soft, pliable flesh of Donna's backside and then lifted that part of her body up from the bed.
"Bob, oh ... what ... what are you doing?"
She began to wiggle, squealing in frantic protest, but the trick merely held her wildly gyrating vagina a bit tighter against his mouth ... and soon the only parts of her body that remained in direct contact with the surface of the bed were the heels of her feet and a spot about the size of a silver dollar at the back of her golden head.
Somehow, she managed to fill each of her hands with a sizable patch of the trick's hair ... and then she used those patches as if they were reins to guide and direct his lips and tongue here and there against the rip-tidal sort of action of her foaming pelvis.
"Don't stop, lover," she cried. "Oh, lover, lover ... please ... don't stop. Sweet lover ... oh, sweet, sweet man ... it's so wonderful...."
Her words sounded like the shrill wail of a siren, and they seemed to come from deep within her body, rising and falling in a pitch that was very nearly frightening with its terrible sense of urgency.
Suddenly, she grew quiet-unmoving.
All motion, all sound-indeed, life itself seemed to stop for the longest time, and then the tips of her toes began to quiver as a fresh and vibrant cry of joy made its way up from deep within her body and settled as a rolling sort of moan somewhere in her throat ... and as that quivering little motion there in her toes began to grow and made its way up her legs, the moan became a cry ... the cry became a scream, and ... the scream became the bellowing of an enraged jungle animal, and then she began to call out the trick's name at the top of her voice and that single word seemed to reverberate from the walls and ceiling of the room, growing louder and louder and louder, until at last it sounded like the roar of thunder during a tropical storm.
"I ... I'm so close, lover," she cried as her body began to twist and thrash, like a fish out of water, flopping about wildly. "Oh, Bob ... Bob ... I'm there, lover ... I'm cumming ... Bob ... I'm cumming ... oh, God, Bob ... I'm cumming-g-g-g-g...."
The battle which took place there within the listening inner walls of her vagina as muscles strained and shuddered and snapped seemed to rage for an eternity, but finally she was able to relax a bit and then she just seemed to go limp, collapsing back down onto the surface of the bed. She lay there, those patches of the trick's hair still within her hands, and waited while a seemingly endless series of rippling little after climaxes worked their way from her body.
"I ... oh, Bob ... I've never ... never, never had an orgasm like that before in my entire life. It was so hard and intense ... so wonderful ... oh, Bob, so beautiful and perfect...."
"I ... I'm glad you liked it," the trick said with a little shrug of his broad shoulders. He tried to grin but didn't quite make it. "And now, sweet woman ... oh, Donna, I've got some unmet needs of my own, and ... baby, the pain ... I'm afraid I'm going to dump this load of love I've built up all over your belly if we don't begin to pay some attention to those needs in one hell of a big hurry."
"Oh, I ... I'm sorry. Really, Bob, I...."
"Don't be sorry," the trick moaned.
"I guess I forgot that this was a business arrangement," Donna said, her sense of guilt giving birth to a tremor in her voice. "I ... I'm really sorry...."
"Later, baby. We can talk about it all you want ... only please, please ... later. Right now I ... oh, baby, I ... I ... I....
His manhood lay hard and red and angry at the entrance of her shimmering vagina, bobbing and jerking, quivering with the fiercest sort of need. Donna wrapped one of her arms around the trick's waist, slid the other one down between their sweat-drenched bodies, and then gently, lovingly curled her long, slen der fingers around the shank of his beautiful, agonized monster.
"Oh, Donna ... that's so nice ... so very, very nice," the trick said, and then settled his hot, hungry lips against her waiting mouth.
Donna spread her legs ... and then guided the head of his stiff, pulsing tool down into her hot, goo-filled witch's cauldron. It was so huge, the trick's beautiful monster, half again as big as anything she had ever known before ... and yet it seemed to slide so easily into her sheath, as if their organs had been made for one another.
"Donna, Donna ... oh, Donna...."
Suddenly, she pushed her legs out to the side and kicked them up into the air (drawing every last millimeter of his screaming tool down into the foaming madness that was her cave of love), and then she wrapped those legs tightly around the trick's waist.
"Sweet woman," the trick cried, his eyes big and round, gleaming with pleasure. "That's so nice ... so wonderful, and so ... so wet, my darling...."
It was Donna's turn to grin ... and grin she did, as insanely as a Cheshire cat.
For the longest time they merely lay there, motionless, enjoying a strange and wonderful sort of magic, as belly button kissed belly button and organ got acquainted with organ ... and then Donna began to move.
She did something with her hips, began to ease them oh, ever-so-gently from side to side, and that simple little action seemed to delight the trick. Gurgling little sounds of appreciation began to form in his throat and soon he began to respond to the gentle roll of Donna's hips with a motion of his own: he withdrew about an inch of his manhood from its hot and gooey prison and then forced that inch back down into it again ... and then, as Donna gradually increased the rhythm of her rolling hips, so, too, did the trick quicken the tempo of his action, driving harder and harder into that raw, bubbling cauldron with each new downward thrust of his bold and mighty penis. The syrupy mass of hot, hot flesh and hard, grinding muscle that was the inner wall of her vagina was like something he had never known before, like something alive and faintly magical-fiery and wet and throbbing with a joyous sort of promise.
"Oh, Donna...."
"Bob ... Bob...."
She cupped the fingers of one hand around the hard, hot, screaming agony that was his scrotal sac, and began to squeeze it gently, playfully ... and the trick responded to her touch with a long, lingering groan and then drove his thick, heavy tongue far down into the hot and fiery world of her mouth.
The flames of their passion soon grew so torrid that the trick began to ram his angry tool recklessly down into the hot and gooey mass of tortured flesh that was her quivering sheath, riding for all he was worth ... and Donna quickly altered the rhythm of her undulating hips to match the new tempo of his frantic lovemaking. She began to grind her dripping vagina up against him, slamming it up against each new downward stroke of his roll of sweet, sweet hanging meat, and then ripping it back as he began to withdraw ... and all the while the muscles within the inner wall of her vagina continued to wrap themselves around the trick's long and thundering invader, twisting and rubbing and jerking at it with a feverish sort of abandon.
"Ride, lover," Donna cried. "Ride, ride...."
"Oh, baby ... baby," the trick snorted. "I ... I'm almost there, baby ... right on the edge ... right on the ... oh, baby ... sweet, sweet woman...."
The sound of jungle drums began to pulse with his head, faintly at first, but growing louder and stronger with each passing micro-second. He closed his eyes ... and the rippling beat of the drums seemed to give birth to an explosion of brightly colored lights which whirled and danced their way madly across the seemingly endless expanse of black, black sky that was his mind. It was like the Fourth of July and Chinese New Year rolled into one, firecrackers popping, shooting off in every imaginable direction ... and the rhythm of the drums became frantic, wild and crazy, reflecting the intensity of his passion.
The trick got up on his knees, lifting Donna (her legs still wrapped tightly around his waist) up into his arms, and he held her there like that, her body completely off the surface of the bed, as he began to pile-drive his hard and screaming invader deeper and ever-deeper into her raw and dripping cave of love.
As if in a dream, he seemed to hear someone screaming ... howling and crying and groaning, and it was the longest time before he fully realized that all those strange, animal sorts of noises were actually coming from his mouth.
"Oh, Donna...."
He was there, at the raw and burning edgelights began to flash ... eagles began to scream ... trumpets began to sound, and then ... the explosion came, an ejaculation which seemed to take life in the deepest part of his soul ... a great and sprawling, great-grandfather of a climax, a climax that ripped its way up the back of his legs and into the hard, trembling agony that was his testicles-where it whipped around and around, crossing back and forth from one globe to the other-and then thundered its way up into the long and quivering shank of his screaming manhood before it finally spurted, thick and hot and creamy, like a great river flowing from the tiny, sightless eye there in the face of his penis.
"Oh, sweet woman," he cried. "Oh, baby ... so good, so good ... oh, Donna ... oh ... baby ... oh . ... oh ... oh ... "
Donna let out a little squeal of disappointment as the trick eased her dripping body back down onto the surface of the bed ... and then he just sort of collapsed, lifeless, right on top of her. He waited, unable to move, his eyes riveted shut and his body wracked with convulsions, as the bright, sprawling, swirling expanse of colors which had captured his mind finally faded and dissolved away in nothingness, like the echo of some half-forgotten scream.
"Oh, baby ... sweet baby...."
"I'm right here, lover," Donna cooed into his ear.
"I feel so ... so drained!"
"You just rest, lover...."
He nestled his face against Donna's shoulder, sighed a time or two, and then tried to roll out of the saddle ... but he didn't get very far before the honey-blonde stopped him, clamping her arms in a death grip around the still-quivering muscles of his shoulders.
"You're not going to leave me like this," she cried in a little whisper of a voice-a voice that seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Are you, lover....?"
"Like ... like what, Donna?"
"Oh, Bob ... lover," she cried. "That big, beautiful monster of yours has me all worked up again. I ... oh, I'm hurting, lover ... really, it's like all the fires of hell were exploding down there inside me."
"But ... but ... but, but...."
"Bob, I'm so close ... another thirty seconds and I would have gone off right with you."
"It's soft, Donna," the trick said, miserably. "Really, you ... you drained every last ounce of strength from it, baby...."
"Please, lover...."
"I can't; it's soft...."
"I WANT THAT BEAUTIFUL MONSTER...."
"Let ... let me eat you again, Donna!"
"NO ... NO ... NO," Donna screamed. "I NEED YOUR COCK. Oh ... oh, lover, please ... please let me have that sweet, sweet roll just one more time ... just for the littlest while, really...."
"But, I ... I...."
"Here, just let me get my hand down there again and-there, I've got it," Donna said, as once again she curled her soft, slender fingers around the shank of his manhood. She let out a squeal of pure delight and began to grind the head of his sad, lifeless tool against the hot and screaming mound of angry, pink flesh that was her clitoris.
"Oh, yeah ... oh, lover ... see ... see ... it doesn't have to be hard to get the job done," she cooed. "And besides, I think I feel it beginning to stir a little. Yes ... yes baby ... it is!"
"Oh, Donna...."
"Oh, lover ... yes...."
The trick's penis began to swell ... and suddenly it was hard and erect again, screaming with its sense of magical rebirth. He hesitated for a moment, as if he were afraid that his mind had played a horrible sort of trick on him ... but before very long he found himself easing that great and pulsing sword back down into the wonderfully wet goo of the golden one's cave of love, and in less time than it takes to tell he was once again ripping it in and out, in and out of that hotly churning witch's cauldron.
"Oh, yes," Donna cried, "Yes, lover...."
She wrapped her long, smoothly tapered legs around his waist once again and began to rock her hips from side to side, screaming at the top of her voice that she needed more ... more ... oh, dear God, please ... more....
The trick got up on his knees, slid his hands down under the ripe and rippling flesh of Donna's buttocks, filling each hand with a healthy chunk of the vibrant meat he found there, and then lifted that part of her body up from the bed, forcing much of the combined weight of their bodies back onto her shoulders ... and Donna began to squeal in a joyous sort of pleasure as his rock-hard invader seemed to fill every little nook and cranny of her hot and quivering, spunk-saturated vagina. Once again her muscles down there began to twitch and roll and caress the pulsing meat of his driving manhood.
"Oh, Bob ... lover ... what a wonderful lover you are," she cried. "Oh, Bob ... Bob...."
"Donna ... Donna...."
It was as if somehow she had wandered into the dream of some stranger, for everything was all so new to her ... so deliciously different than anything she had ever known before in her life. This was the kind of thing she had always hoped and prayed sex might be ... and if it were a dream, she decided, even some stranger's dream, she was nowhere near being ready to awaken.
The trick began to move like a man who had been possessed by demons. He rammed his manhood down into her fiery witch's cauldron, moving the fine edge of that mighty sword with a sense of complete abandon, as if the rippling walls within her cave of love had intoxicated him ... and he continued to wail away in anticipation of the explosive climax he knew lay just ahead of him.
Donna continued to moan, to cry out her sense of joy and fulfillment for all the world to hear ... and then the trick, too, began to moan, and for a long, long moment it seemed as if they had entered into some strange sort of contest, each one trying to outdo the other, crying and howling, screaming and groaning, shuddering with an awesome sense of expectation.
Suddenly, they hit ... raw and naked and beautiful ... twin climaxes which seemed to reach out to the stars and beyond and ripped away at their bodies like some hunger-crazed animal, exploding like jagged bolts of lightning across a dark and stormy sky.
"Oh, Bob ... lover...."
"Yes, baby ... yes, yes ... yes...."
It carried each of them further than either of them had ever gone before, and still it continued, rising up out of the ashes like a great and towering phoenix, sprawling and whirling like a fire-ball, like a bomb which had exploded in the palms of their hands ... higher and ever-higher, a wild and fierce ride on the tail of a comet across the furthest reaches of deep space. It left both of them trembling with exhaustion, sucking air into their lungs, as if the very last vestiges of strength had been pulled and drained from their sweat-bathed bodies.
"Oh, God, Donna ... what a beautiful thing."
"I know," Donna cried. "It was so ... so complete, so total, so ... so...."
"I don't have the words to describe it, either, baby, but ... oh, wow ... wow...!"
"You're such a wonderful lover," Donna said.
The trick tried to laugh, didn't quite make it. "That's weird," he said, a hint of something raw and sad and festering in his voice. "The only other person who ever said that that way was my wife ... and it's been so long ago that I very nearly forgot she said it."
"I didn't know you were married!"
"Most men my age are, Donna...."
"I know, but ... but...."
"Don't let it get to you, kid," the trick said. "My wife and I ... well, we have an understanding. So don't go worrying about her. Okay?"
"It's just that it was so beautiful, Bob-the thing that happened between us," Donna said, a note of some strange sort of panic creeping into her voice. "I mean, how can that be, Bob? How? Why?"
"It was beautiful, Donna ... so why question it? Why not just accept it ... and maybe say a little prayer of thanksgiving to whatever gods were responsible for allowing it to happen to us?"
"But, Bob...."
"No 'buts', Donna...."
"You don't understand," Donna cried out, the note of panic suddenly very obvious in her voice. "It's never been this good ... this fulfilling for me before. Look, Bob, I became a call girl because ... well, you know, it was the only way that I could complete my education. The idea of allowing a man to use my body in exchange for his money is so damn repugnant to me that it really messes with my head, but the knowledge that I could have had something so rich, so ... frighteningly wonderful as what happened to us come out of that situation just about destroys everything I've come to believe about sex."
"Well, if you think I'm going to apologize for making our thing something more than a bit of pleasant friction, well, Donna, you've got another think coming.
"I don't want you to apologize," Donna cried. "All I'm asking is that you help me gain some insight into what took place between us."
"I'm lousy at analysis, Donna...."
"But, Bob...."
"Donna, my brain isn't functioning at the moment," the trick said. "I'm so tired, baby ... really...."
"Can we talk some other time?"
"If you really want to...."
Donna allowed her legs to slip from around the trick's waist ... and then she allowed her whole body to settle back down onto the surface of the bed.
"You know," she said. "I'm pretty darn tired myself."
The trick smiled and kissed the tip of her nose before he crawled over to a vacant place beside her on the bed and collapsed. Within moments, they were both fast asleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Donna left the Good Knight's Inn at a few minutes past five in the afternoon with two hundred dollars of the trick's money in her purse-two crisp, bankfresh one-hundred dollar bills. One of the centuries was payment of the fee she and the trick had agreed upon (half of that would go to Valarie Lewis-her roommate and business manager-for setting up the deal), the other hundred was a ... well, it was a tip. A tip, Donna mused, bitterly, for service above and beyond the duty of a call girl.
Two hundred dollars....
It was such an absurd thing.
Imagine, being paid that much money merely for spreading one's legs ... for providing a bit of pleasant friction and a handy receptacle for some trick's-trick-oh, God, how she hated the sound of that coarse and vulgar word-load of squirming love-juice.
Two hundred dollars....
One-fifty after she gave Val her cut.
Not much if you say it fast.
Just about what she would earn in a week as a beginning schoolteacher. Absurd? No ... it wasn't really absurd. It was insane! Nuts! It was ... was ... oh, what was the use of it anyway? Nothing made any sense.
She hailed a cab ... and tried not to react to the leer on the face of the middle-aged driver as she gave him the address of her dorm on Morrison Place South. He knew the type of college girl who spent her afternoons at the Good Knight's Inn, the leer seemed to say.
"You a student at the college, huh?"
Donna pretended not to hear him. Already she had him pegged as a nurd ... and a baldheaded nurd at that, the very worst kind. He kept stealing glances at her through the rear-view mirror as he moved the ancient and battered checker out into the flow of traffic. He knows, she told herself. He really knows.
Suddenly, without a trace of warning, tears began to spill down her face. An image of her father popped into her mind-not as he was then, weak and pale and all but lifeless, but as the young and vigorously handsome man she had known as a six-year-old child.
Daddy, Daddy....
"My Donna's going to amount to something," the image seemed to be saying ... as she had heard her flesh-and-blood father say so many times as she was growing up. "She's going to go to college ... become a nurse, maybe, or a schoolteacher. My Donna is going to be a professional person. My Donna ... my Donna...."
"Oh, Daddy ... Daddy," she cried in a whisper.
Your Donna is a professional person all right, Daddy ... and her profession pays a hell of a lot better than either nursing or education.
"Oh, Daddy...."
She had never really known her mother. She had died when Donna was twelve, but for years before her death she had been little more than a vegetablea roughly human-shaped sort of lump lying in a white hospital bed with tubes sticking from her arms and legs that Donna went to see every Sunday afternoon with her father.
One-fifty....
She needed a total of eighteen hundred dollars so that she could stay in school one last semester, to graduate with a degree in education from ... from that school for the female off springs of the affluent, Cutter College for Women. She had about six weeks to come up with the sixteen-fifty she still needed ... six weeks, a month and a half, more than enough time for an up and coming professional girl from prestigious Cutter to whore together two or three or more times that piddling amount.
Cutter College for Women-established 1926.
If people only knew the truth, Donna mused, that Cutter is really a college for hookers.
Dan Williamson wanted only the best for his child-and the best meant Cutter, everybody said so. He really couldn't afford the tuition and other expenses of a place like that-especially while he was still burdened with paying off the bills of his late wife's long illness, but he refused to listen to his daughter's plea that she attend a state university or even a junior college.
No, sir ... his Donna would have the best, even if he had to kill himself in the process of providing it for her-and so for nearly three years he had burnt himself out at two back-breaking jobs, never taking time out for as much as a long weekend not to mention a real vacation, and then one day his heart exploded ... and the money stopped coming in. He was forty-three and looked sixty. The medicos said that he could live another twenty or thirty years ... as long as he took things easy, and that it would be at least several years more before he would be able to return to any sort of manual labor. The medical costs involved in his attack had been enormous. They had eaten away first his insurance monies and his meager savings, then his automobile, and finally his home before Donna became aware of the fact that her father was very nearly bankrupt. He had borrowed money on his life-insurance policies to keep her in school, but the expenses continued to mount ... and then came that dreadful day when he had to face his daughter and tell her that he was unable at the moment to come up with the money for her final semester at Cutter.
There were tears in his eyes as the words fell heavily from his lips ... and Donna had wanted to throw herself from a bridge or under the wheels of a moving transport for having been such a blind, selfish, silly ninny. She had never really thought of herself as being very different from the other kids at Cutter. Like them, all she ever need do was telephone home to Daddy and the money for whatever it was she needed was there. She was vaguely aware of the fact that her father worked in the rolling plant of a steel mill while their fathers were ... well, they were presidents of banks or sat on the board of directors of this or that conglomerate, but for some reason-a reason she was unable to explain even to herself-the difference had never really made an impact on her. Perhaps it was because that was the way Dan Williamson wanted it.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything, Donna," she had heard him say at least a hundred times beginning with the first day she had entered Cutter. "Your old dad will take care of everything. You just get an education, become a professional person ... and leave everything else to me."
She had done just that ... had never really given ten seconds of continuous thought to where the money for her education came from. It was always there, it was as simple as that, as near as her telephone ... and so there was really no reason for her to think about it.
Then reality set in:
Reality in the form of a horrible telegram and a frantic flight to Cleveland and her father lying there in a hospital bed, looking up at her with all but lifeless eyes.
Donna had had to sign the papers giving the medicos permission to cut open her father's chest. He had been on the operating table for nearly eighteen hours, and then for more than three days no one could say with any degree of certainty whether or not he would make it ... and all that time Donna never left his bedside for more than a moment or two. She was there, sitting next to his bed, her hands wrapped around one of his, when he opened his eyes for the first time after the operation.
He looked up into the troubled face of his daughter and smiled, and then a vague look of consternation crossed his ashen-gray face. "Why aren't you at school?" he demanded.
Donna began to laugh and to cry at the same time.
"Oh, Daddy ... Daddy...."
Right there and then she decided to chuck Cutter and all it stood for, heave it out the window and forget it. She told her father she was going to drop out of school and nurse him back to health ... but Dan Williamson would have none of it.
"But, Daddy ... the money!"
"Oh, things will be a bit tight for a while," he had replied, "but we'll be all right, baby. There's insurance money ... and other things...."
She had believed him, accepted his words on the subject without so much as a single question. Two months later, just last weekend, she had learned the terrible truth-her father was broke and heavily in debt.
Donna was beside herself with guilt. Once again she told her father that she was going to drop out of school and take care of him.
"Now, you listen to me, baby," her father had said. "I don't know how, but somehow ... somehow I'll get the money for you."
"No, Daddy. I'm going to leave school ... get a job and take care of you for a change. Oh, Daddy ... I've been so blind. All these years and I never dreamt ... I mean, I ... oh, Daddy ... Daddy ... I love you so very much."
"You can't quit, Donna. I won't let you...."
"I have to, Daddy."
"No...."
"I could maybe transfer to state ... finish up on a part-time basis in the evening."
"No ... please, no ... Donna."
"Oh, Daddy...."
"It ... it would kill me sweetheart, if we were to come this close and not win. Six months ... half a year, and you'll be a qualified teacher ... and your diploma will read Cutter College for Women, not State."
There was such a fierce sense of pride in his voice as he pronounced the name of her school-a pride that was mixed with more than a smattering of awe, almost as if there were some sort of magical quality in the words.
It really would kill him if she were to drop out of Cutter, Donna decided ... and then she heard herself making him a promise to stay and finish.
"We'll get the money," he had said. "I don't know just how or where, but I swear, baby, we'll get it!"
"You don't have to worry about the money, Daddy," Donna had said. "There are all sorts of government grants and things that I should be able to qualify for ... dozens of them, and I won't have to pay back any of the money until after I start teaching."
There were tears in her father's eyes, tears of happiness ... and Donna made a silent vow that she would spend the rest of her life making life a little easier for that fine and noble man. Really, she would ... and to hell with whatever it might cost her.
Well, it seemed that she had just made the down payment on that vow. She took some comfort in the fact that she at least had a valid reason for ... for selling her body. The other kids in Valarie's stable of student-call girls were all from rich families, and they viewed their involvement in the oldest profession as something of a lark, as a rather terribly cute way of thumbing their noses at society.
One fifty....
Sixteen-fifty to go....
* * *
Donna had the cab driver leave her off in front of a little hamburger stand just down the street from her dorm. She ordered a deluxe hamburger and a strawberry shake and then sat in one of the booths in the back of the shop where there was less chance of running into some of her friends. She toyed with the hamburger. She really wasn't all that hungry, but ... well she just wasn't ready to go back to the dorm. Valarie would be there, waiting for her, eager to hear all the juicy tidbits about her ... her first day on her new job, and Donna really didn't feel up to facing anything like that-not on an empty stomach. It was nearly seven o'clock when she turned the key in the lock to the door of her room.
* * *
Valarie Lewis, dark and tiny, a hint of the Orient in her brown almond-shaped eyes, flared nose and full moistly ripe lips lay sprawled out across one of the huge twin-size beds which dominated the tiny room she and Donna had shared since their freshman year at Cutter. She was nude as she almost always was at that time of day having only a few moments before stepped from the shower.
She had been thumbing through a copy of a magazine devoted to photographs of male body-builders in the nude wondering vaguely if perhaps she ought to send a wiggling finger down into her vagina-the sight of all that beautiful beef had whipped up a pretty lively sort of storm down there in that fiery little cave of love in between her legs, when she heard footsteps outside her room and then the sound of a key being fitted into the lock.
Her favorite chick was home ... and old mother hen Val could stop worrying. She dropped the magazine to the floor and put on her best concerned-mother-waiting-for-daughter to come-home-after-a-date smile as the honey-blonde entered the room. "Hi," Valarie cooed. "How'd it go at the office JJ'
"Okay I guess...."
"No trouble?"
Donna shook her head, opened her shoulder bag and began to fumble through its contents, mumbling something to the effect that she could never ... but never find anything when she really wanted it.
"What are you looking for?" .
"I ... I'll be damned if I know," Donna said, and then tossed the purse onto her desk with a long and wistful sort of sigh.
"Are you ill or something, Donna?"
"I ... no, of course not. Whatever made you ask a crazy thing like that?"
"Oh, I don't know," Valarie said with a little shrug of her narrow shoulders. "The words just sort of popped out of my mouth."
"Oh...."
"Donna ... hey, chickie-doll, I was putting you on, for pity-sake. Look at you, pale as a ghost and trembling like a leaf ... acting as if you were lost in a fog or something. What is it?"
"I ... I'm all right, Val...."
"Yeah ... all right; like I'm seven months' pregnant!"
"Are you pregnant, Val?"
"Oh, Donna ... no, I am not pregnant ... and you are not all right. Now, look...."
"You'll have to wait until later for your cut, Val," Donna said, a sharp and heavy edge to her voice. "He ... Bob ... the trick I serviced this afternoon ... he didn't have anything smaller than a hundred on him and I forgot to get it changed on my way back here."
"Forget the bloody money," Valarie snapped. "Oh, I won't forget...."
"Your old man ... your father, Donna, he's not worse or anything, is he, kid?"
"Oh, no ... no...."
"Then what is it?"
"What is what?" Donna growled. "Boy Val ... you're sure not making a lot of sense!"
"I'm not making a lot of sense?"
"That's what I said!"
"Hey, Donna ... this is Val. Remember me, huh? I've been your roommate for three years ... and I can read you like an open book. C'mon, kid, give ... tell old mother Valarie what it is that's bothering you."
"Oh, Val ... Val, I...."
"Easy, kid...."
"Is it warm in here, Val?"
"No, not at all ... why-"
"I'm feeling a little light headed. It must be a hot-flash or something. Boy, I'm burning up ... and the room, everything is going around and around."
"You're too young to be having a hot-flash, kid!"
"If you say so...."
"Come over here and sit down," Valarie said in her best listen-to-me-or-niother-will-spank voice. "C'mon, Donna, before you fall flat on your face."
"I'll be all right...."
"Will you please ... please ... get your pretty tail over here and sit down? C'mon, Donna, you're really scaring the hell out of me weaving, about like that."
Donna crossed the room on legs that felt as if they had been made of sponge rubber. She sat down on the bed next to Valarie and then fell into her waiting arms, crying softly. She felt angry and confused, lost ... as lost as a three-year-old unable to find her mother. She nestled her face against the soft, vibrant warmth of Valarie's small, firm breasts, and the almond-eyed girl held her tightly, gently stroking her long, golden hair as she waited for Donna's tears to run their course. It was something the dark, tiny girl had dreamt of for nearly three years-holding the pale goddess in her arms, feeling the crush of her voluptuous body as it pressed tightly against her.
"I ... oh, Val ... it was such an insane sort of experience," Donna said. "He ... well, he wasn't at all what I expected. Oh wow, Val, he ... he ... oh, I don't know how to describe it."
"Describe what?"
"The trick ... that Bob!"
Valarie looked confused.
"I just wasn't prepared for him, Val ... not even a little bit."
"Bob Mackey," Valarie said. "But he's a doll, Donna-really, one of the kindest, sweetest guys you could ever hope to meet. Most of the kids say he's beautiful...."
"I know. They're right ... he is!"
"Well; what ... I mean...."
"You really want to hear it, huh?"
"Yes...."
"Okay, I ... I had a climax with that trick this afternoon, Val," Donna said, and once again tears began to stream down her face. "Can you imagine? I had a climax! As a matter-of-fact, I had a number of them ... and they were all so beautiful. To tell you the truth, it ... it was the best damn lay I've ever had in my whole lousy life."
"And that's what has you strung out?" Valarie said, unable to hide the sense of amazement she felt from her voice, "You're upset because ... because a guy you went to bed with was able to bring you to climax?"
"Not a guy, Val ... a trick!"
"And tricks aren't guys, huh?"
"You know what I mean...."
"I do?"
"Oh, Val ... damn ... you know what I feel about sex," Donna said, softly, but with an undeniable edge creeping into her voice, "about it being a thing you share only with a person you really love."
"Yeah." Valerie said with an affected sigh of exasperation. "I've heard all that liberal clap-trap you say are your feelings about sex. As a matter-of-fact, that's about all I've ever heard from you on the subject. Donna, listen to me-please. You've been brainwashed ... sold a bill of goods. You've been conned and swindled, kid ... cheated in the worst possible way."
"I've heard your side of this question a number of times, too, Val. In fact, I know the whole lecture by heart. Next you're going to tell me that sex doesn't need to be justified, that it has meaning in and of itself ... that it's perfectly all right to go out and spread your legs for anyone who happens to turn you on, anyone at all."
"You've got it, kid...."
"Welcome to the sexual revolution," Donna said, bitterly. "What garbage...."
"This very afternoon you experienced the truth of what I've been trying to tell you for years, Donna, my girl ... and you're still too damn blind to see it. Does a house have to fall on you before you'll believe your own senses?"
"This afternoon ... it was a fluke, a million-to-one chance-happening, Val."
"Sure ... and what are you going to say the next time it happens with a trick?"
"It won't happen again!"
"You're certain of that, huh?"
"Yes; quite certain...."
"I'll bet I could bring you to orgasm without really half trying," Valarie said.
Donna bolted away from Valarie's arms and then sat-shock still, staring at her roommate, unable to accept the fact that she had actually heard what the other girl had said. Valarie, a lezzy ... no, it couldn't be. It must be some kind of joke ... a very, very sick one.
"Besides," Valarie said, "I've been in love with you since about ten seconds after the first time I ever laid eyes on you ... and isn't love the thing that makes sex an okay sort of thing in your book?"
"Val, I ... I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything ... all you've got to do is climb out of your clothes and join me here in my bed. I'll even help you with your clothes, if you like."
"This is crazy, Val...."
"Why? Because we're both of the same sex?"
"I ... I guess so," Donna said.
"Have you ever made it with another female?"
Donna managed to shake her head.
"Then don't you think you owe it to your education to experience it at least once before you dismiss it as something crazy ... and worse, as something queer.
And I really do love you, Donna ... more deeply than I could ever hope to put into words."
"Val, I ... I can't!"
"Why?"
"I don't really know...."
"Have you ever thought about it?"
"Well, sure ... I mean, everyone, I suppose, is at least a little curious about that sort of thing," Donna said. "But ... well, I never really seriously considered trying it-not for a single minute."
"Are you afraid, is that it?"
"I ... I don't know, Val. Really, it ... oh, I just don't know. Am I afraid ... is that it?"
"I can tell you this, Donna: at this very moment you want to touch me every bit as much as I want to touch you, but something is stopping you ... and if that something isn't fear, what the hell is it?"
"I ... I don't know!"
"You admit that you're curious?"
"Yes...."
"Then let me love you in that special way that only one woman can love another, Donna."
"I ... I ... I...."
"Why don't you admit it, Donna ... you're more than merely curious," Valarie said, a deep and husky sort of hunger in her voice. "You really want me to make love to you. I can feel it, baby ... and, oh, God, how very, very long I've waited for this moment...."
A sound that was part sigh, part cry of a jungle cat seemed to catch in Donna's throat and her whole body began to tremble. The room was suddenly alive with the aroma of her musk ... and her eyes seemed to blaze with the fire of her anticipation.
It was all the signal Valarie needed:
She stood up and began to unbutton the honey blonde's blouse with fingers that crackled with their awesome sense of excitement and expectation.
"Val, I ... I...."
"It's all right, isn't it, Donna?"
"I ... I guess so...."
"Oh, Donna ... my box is fairly dripping."
"I ... I have a confession," Donna said, her voice as soft as a summer breeze. "I know exactly what you mean ... mine is, too."
"Oh, Donna...."
Valarie dropped the blouse to the floor and immediately went to work on the catch of Donna's bra ... and in less time than it takes to tell, her full, ripely firm, pear-shaped breasts were free of the wisp of material which had held them prisoner.
"Beautiful," Valerie moaned, and-as if in response to her words-Donna's breasts seemed to leap out at the dark-haired girl, the hot-pink nipples alive and pulsing with the most intense sort of desire ... as if they were pleading with Valarie to touch them, to caress and fondle and kiss them. "Donna ... oh, Donna...."
The golden one kicked off her shoes, little animal-like noises gurgling away crazily in her throat, and then, with Valarie groaning, she slithered her way out of her mini-skirt, half-slip, and panties in a slow and deliberate sort of tease calculated to bring the blood of the almond-eyed girl to the boiling point.
"Oh, Donna...."
Valarie cupped the fingers of one of her tiny hands over the wide and rippling expanse of one of Donna's huge and throbbing breasts, and then she cried out in the wildest sort of joy as the nipple there responded to her gentle and loving touch. Soon that pink mountain was hard and erect, pulsing, painfully alive ... and the color there became a dark and brooding red.
"Oh, Val," Donna cried. "Oh ... oh...."
"Yes, lover ... yes...."
Donna tried to make contact with the dark-haired girl's small, firm breasts, but Valarie quickly moved her hand away from its target. It confused the honey blonde for a moment. She had so much wanted to touch them ... to feel the warm and wonderful magic of them explode against the tips of her fingers.
"Later, Donna," Valarie cried.
"But Val...."
"Just relax for a moment, baby, and let me make love to you. Just for a little while, my darling. It's ... well, I know it's crazy, but it's really the way I have to have things when I am making love to another woman. Okay?"
"You'll let me know?" Donna whispered.
"Oh, you'll know...."
Tenderly, Valarie kissed the honey-blonde's eyes, the tip of her nose, the base of her chin ... and then, suddenly, she began to lick away wildly at Donna's face, covering every little patch of flesh there with hot and fiercely bold strokes of her thin, wet tongue. Donna groaned as her golden skin turned to quivering gooseflesh ... and then, as if they had a will of their own, her hips began to roll lazily from side to side in undulation.
"Oh, Val ... Val...."
The lips of the dark-haired girl nibbled their way over to Donna's ear, and Valarie whispered, "I love you, Donna-oh, baby, how very, very much I love you," before she sent her moist and hot invader corkscrewing down into the cavern she found there. The golden-one began to shudder, lost in the velvety-magic of Valarie's tongue ... and even the soft and gentle caress of the dark-haired girl's breath against the wet and expectant shell of her ear seemed to have a direct and speedy pipeline to the bubbling witch's cauldron which lay like an angry volcano there in between the honey-blonde's trembling legs.
Valarie's lips traveled from the golden-one's ear to the side of her neck, wet and painful ... and then she settled the tips of her fingers down as lightly as the fluttering wings of a hummingbird on the insides of Donna's quivering thighs.
"Oh, Val ... Val," Donna cried. "It's all so ... so wild and wonderful, darling."
Donna's thighs began to tremble and scream, alive with the fiery touch of Valarie's fingers as they traced crazy little patterns in the tormented flesh therepatterns that seemed to splash out and make their way into every part of the honey-blonde's body, like the ripples produced by a stone cast into a pool of still water.
"It's heavenly, Val...."
"I know, lover ... oh, Donna, how very well I know!"
"I'm sorry I hesitated at first...."
"Don't even think about it...."
The almond-eyed girl began the long trek of her hungry mouth from Donna's neck to her breasts, moving teasingly, at a snail pace, sucking and licking and nibbling away at patch after tiny-patch of golden skin ... and the nearer those lips and tongue came to those aching breasts and screaming nipples, the wilder became the rhythm of the golden-one's churning hips, until at last they were rolling fiercely, recklessly in wild abandon.
Goo began to seep from the lips of Donna's vagina, hot and heavy, thick, and the aroma of that heavenly sweet spunk was like a rich and heady perfume, filling the room with its awesome presence as it testified to the honey-blonde's great and explosive need.
"Val, please ... lover ... oh, the pain ... the pain ... my breasts ... please...."
The agony of the moment was very nearly more than Donna could bear, the gurgling of the animal noises deep within her throat were cosmic in their pleading, and then-at long, long last, Valarie's mouth found its target. Donna began to squirm, squealing with pleasure ... and then the squeal became a feverish sort of wail as the almond-eyed girl drew one of those screaming nipples up into her mouth and began to flick the tip of her tongue against it. Once again the golden-one attempted to make contact with her roommate's proud, firm breasts ... and once again Valarie quickly moved her hand away.
"Not yet, lover," she whispered.
"Please, Val...."
"No ... not yet ... not yet...."
Donna felt disappointed-even a little angry, and she found herself wondering just how long Valarie expected her to be able to wait. She, too, had needs ... and at that particular moment she wanted more than anything to touch her fingers to those small, firm, ruby-capped mountains of hotly quivering flesh. There was something in the way they moved, in the way they rose and fell so seductively that the golden-one found excruciatingly exciting.
Valarie slipped her free hand down under Donna's rump and began to trace the tip of her middle finger around and around the rim of the honey-blonde's anus, and Donna began to giggle like a six-year-old as that dark and forbidden hole began to respond. She could actually feel it puckering away like crazy, and then the dark-haired girl rammed her hard, stiff finger up into that hole ... and the golden-one found herself airborne.
It hadn't been a painful experience-quite the opposite, in fact-but it had happened so suddenly that the honey-blonde had been caught totally off guard. Nothing in her past had prepared her for anything like that. She began to settle down after a long moment, forcing herself to relax, and the feel of her roommate's finger as it bobbed and weaved about wildly in that dark place was really quite nice, exciting and pleasurable ... like nothing she had ever known before.
"Do you like that, Donna?"
"Oh, yes ... yes, lover...."
Donna's vagina seemed to be on fire ... a great and sprawling, five-alarm sort of blaze, and the flames of that fire very quickly heated her bountiful load of syrupy-sweet spunk to the boiling point and it seemed as if the golden-one could actually feel it sloshing around down there, bubbling away madly as it prepared to thunder its way up from her screaming cauldron. Her clitoris, too, felt as if it were about to burst ... it pulsed and jerked and shuddered, like a bomb about to explode into a zillion pieces.
"Oh, Valarie ... Val, Val...."
It felt as if she were sitting on the top of Mount Vesuvius, and the long, licking flames of the fire there in between her legs suddenly sent her rump bouncing up from the surface of the bed-higher and higher, twisting so violently that it pulled Valarie's finger from her anus with a wet little popping noise, and then still higher, higher, and her hips began to grind as well as roll, moving to the frantic beat of the thunder which seemed to be exploding with the force of a tropical storm down within the sopping inner walls of her hot and tortured vagina.
Valarie let out a scream that sounded for all the world like the cry of an Apache on the warpath as she began to work her lips and tongue from one of Donna's agonized breasts to the other. Quickly, she drew the nipple there up into her mouth and began to suck away wildly at it. She had been lying at the golden-one's left side, her legs straddled around Donna's left leg, the lips of her vulva grinding wetly against the flesh there, but as her lips and tongue began to tease and play with their newly found prize, like a cat with a mouse, she worked her way up onto her knees ... and after a rather long, uncertain moment of hesitation, she eased her body lightly over her lover's leg so that she might nestle herself down into the little pie-wedge of open bed there in between the honey-blonde's outstretched legs, there at the altar of that bubbling cauldron that was her hot and screaming vagina.
"Oh, Valarie ... eat me, lover."
Valarie's lips released their little playmate and Donna cried out the fact of her nipple's fierce sense of misery-but then she felt the tongue of the almond-eyed girl as it began to lash and swirl its way in monstrous sorts of strokes down across her tight, trembling belly, and down, down, down, traveling wetly in a winding, painful, seemingly all but directionless path to the spunk-covered lips of her quivering sheath.
"Val ... lover," Donna cried. "Oh, lover ... I'm so very close ... on the edge of the edge, darling. Oh, hurry ... please, please, lover ... hurry...."
There was a look of pure ecstasy on Valarie's face ... something almost rapturous, ecstatic with joy, as if she were at prayer or something, and then her head began to bow as her hungry lips and tongue dropped slowly down, down into the region of that tingling, painfully alive and waiting mound of tortured, spongy flesh that was the golden-one's shimmering vulva. Down, down, down....
"Oh, God ... Val...."
"Yes, lover...."
"EAT ME...."
The dark-haired girl hesitated for a moment, enjoying a rush that came with her sense of triumph, and then slipped a hard and stiff finger gently up into the hot, dripping cave that was Donna's sheath. The honey-blonde began to groan and to sing out her bubbling sense of joy as Valarie began to ease her finger in and out, in and out of that fiercely churning cauldron ... and the groan became the high-pitched wail of some hunger-starved jungle animal as her lips found the golden-one's hard and angry clitoris.
"Yes, lover ... oh, yes ... yes, yes...."
Donna's hips bucked involuntarily and then began to grind away in a free and wild flight of undulation as she grabbed Valarie by the head and tried to force more, more, and ever-more of her screaming vagina up against the frantic lapping of that hot and hungry mouth.
"I'm so close, Val ... so ... agggggghhhhhhhhhh, Val ... Val ... I can't hold it back much longer, lover. It ... oh, Val ... it ... it's right there...."
Donna seemed to hear the distant roar of heavy guns as it began to take form there in the tips of her toes and the ends of her fingers at the same time ... a great, sprawling monster-bird flapping its huge, dark wings in a wild and frantic rhythm which seemed to cover every part of her body. She was afraid to breathe as that great and primal thing began to move-movement which soon became rip tidal sort of waves of hard, convulsing muscle as it neared the region of her hot and sobbing cave of love.
"Val," she screamed. "I ... I'm there ... oh, lover ... I'm there ... oh, yes ... yes, yes ... I'm going over, darling ... I'm ... oh, Valarie, lover, I'm cumming, I'm cumming ... I'm cummmmiiiinnnnnnggggggggggggg...."
The eruption hit like the driven rain of a tropical storm-frantic and fiercely wet, an orgasm which seemed to carry the trembling honey-blonde right to the face of death with its intensity . .'. and it seemed to Donna that she was lost somewhere out among the stars, that a lifetime had come and gone as she soared higher and ever-higher, and then, slowly, she began to float back down to earth as a seemingly endless series of after-climaxes continued to nibble away hotly at the inner walls of her vagina.
She felt as if she could have slept for a dozen years, as if every last vestige of energy had been drained from her golden body, sucked out with the explosion that had taken place within her sheath ... but Valarie seemed to be unaware of what had taken place. She continued to lap away in a wild and qfazy manner at the golden-one's limp and exhausted clitoris.
"Stop, Val," Donna cried. "Please, I ... oh, lover, I ... I can't take any more. Please ... oh, lover ... it ... it ... oh, God, lover ... stop ... please, Val, you've got to stop ... stop, stop...."
Valarie seemed not to hear her ... and her tongue continued to wiggle away merrily in reckless abandon. The pain in the honey-blonde's clitoris soon became more than she was able to bear as the dark-haired girl continued to ignore her frantic plea for her to stop, and then Donna began to beat on the head of her roommate, to really smash her fists down into coal-black hair.
Somehow, she had to make her stop ... she had to.
Finally, the message got through and Valarie began to climb up from between Donna's outstretched legs, her eyes probing Donna's face ... and the golden one found something vaguely frightening in the dark and fiery eyes of her roommate, something formless and unstated, but awesome nonetheless in its mute and terrible urgency.
"What is it, Val?"
"I ... I need you, my darling...."
"All right; only...."
"Oh, Donna, I love you," Valarie cried, and then kissed her roommate, a kiss that seemed to shout with the dark-haired girl's hunger and pain ... and for the longest time the honey-blonde was unable to respond in any way, to do anything more than lay there, shock-still, under the hot and wet grinding body of her lover.
"How can I help you, Val?"
"It'll come to you, Donna," Valarie said, and then drove her hot, hot tongue down into Donna's mouth ... and the golden-one sprang to life and began to suck away wildly at that moist and tender little tidbit.
Valarie cupped one of her hands under Donna's head and slipped the other hand up under the firm, smooth flesh of her rump ... and then, unable to contain the sense of explosive passion which threatened to consume her, she allowed her body free rein as she began to grind her pelvic area angrily against the soft, spongy mound of flesh there in between the golden-one's legs.
It took Donna a while to catch on to all the dips and turns of Valarie's movements, but soon she found herself matching her hump for roll and twist for grind, and before very long she began to bring fresh and subtle little ripples and quivers of her own design to the action, fitting them in at what seemed like just the proper moment ... and then both of the girls were soaring high, riding the crest of their lovemaking like a giant wave, moaning and crying out the ecstatic joy they shared for all the world to hear.
"Love me, Donna," Valarie moaned. "Oh, yes ... yes, my darling ... everything will be all right again if only you'll love me. Oh please ... please, please ... love me, Donna...."
"Oh, I do ... I do, Val," Donna cried. "I love you, I really love you. Oh, Val ... Val...."
"Ram that thing at me, baby ... lover ... grind it up against me ... oh, yes ... grind ... grind ... and make me cum...."
Donna pulled out all the stops ... and the wild and free-swinging gyrations of her pelvis soon had her body covered with sweat, but there was something wrong-for some reason Valarie seemed to be stalled, unable to release the great and beating storm from her cave of love.
"Make me cum, Donna," she cried. "Please, please ... oh, lover ... I want to cum so desperately. Make me cum, Donna ... please, please, please...."
The honey-blonde curled her arms around the hot, sweating body of her roommate, drawing her body tightly against her. There were tears in Valarie's eyes, and she began to sob as if her heart were breaking-huge and terrible things which seemed to catch in her throat and thunder their way out to every part of her body.
"I ... I need to cum, Donna...."
"Let me eat you," Donna pleaded.
"Oh, no ... it's not time, lover...."
"But what can I do, Val?"
"Fuck me, lover ... make me cum...."
"I don't know how, Val!"
"Yes, you do ... you do...."
Donna let her hands slide down along the firm, wet, and quivering flesh of the dark-haired girl's back ... allowed them to move lightly and easily until they came to rest on the firm ripe cheeks of her pulsing rump.
"Oh, yes ... yes," Valarie cried. "That feels so good ... so very good, lover ... and right."
The honey-blonde dug the tips of her fingers deeply into the flesh of that pulsing rump, forcing the pelvis of the girl on top of her tightly against her own, and then-holding to her treasure with all the strength at her command, she began once again to roll and twist her hips from side to side as she sent her vulva up against the trembling lips of the dark-haired girl's dripping vagina, but still there seemed to be something wrong-she lacked the leverage she felt she would need to really cut loose. Somehow, she managed to force Valarie's legs apart and then to bring her own legs tightly together under the weight of the almond-eyed girl-and it felt right, perfect.
"Make me cum, Donna," Valarie cried. "Fuck me ... rip me to pieces, lover ... anything ... only please, in the name of mercy ... make me cum...."
Once again Donna sent her poor, tortured vagina soaring up against the vulva of the dark-haired girl, rolling and twisting, grinding and rubbing for all she was worth ... and then she felt the first gush of scalding wet goo as it began to make its way out of Valarie's quivering cave of love and dropped down onto her own thighs.
"Yes, lover ... oh, Donna ... that's it...."
The golden-one moved with an action that was born out of a fierce sense of desperation. More than anything she wanted to bring her roommate to that sweet, sweet moment of ultimate truth ... to pay back at least a part of the wild and beautiful thing she had known at the other girl's hands. She seemed to be possessed and her movements grew wilder and wilder, more and more frantic ... and then she heard the first vague hint of an orgasmic moan as it took form in Valarie's throat and she knew that her efforts were going to pay off, that the dark-haired girl was going to make it-achieve a great and wonderful climax.
"Yes, Val," she cried. "You're there...."
Suddenly, Valarie let out a cry that was part ecstasy, part something else ... a formless sort of thing that Donna didn't even begin to understand and then, without so much as a single word in explanation, she climbed her way up and over the golden one's body and quickly settled her hot, bubbling cauldron down against the mouth of the girl under her. Donna wasted no time in sending her tongue on up into that hot and thundering world of thick, syrupy goo. Once again she dug the tips of her fingers into the vibrant flesh of Valarie's rump ... and all the while her thin, pink invader continued to explore the inside of that dark and musky cave that was her roommate's vagina.
"The clit, lover," Valarie cried. "Get the clit ... or we'll blow it ... and I'm so close, my darling? ... oh, so very, very close...."
It seemed to Donna that Valarie's clitoris was at least three times the size of her own ... and it stood as hard and erect and pulsing as a man's penis. She drew that tender and pink morsel down deeply into her throat and then began to suck away at it wildly, holding it captive between her lips while her tongue teased and swirled and licked its way across the tip of it.
"Yes, Donna ... yes, lover ... that's it!"
Valarie began to rake her vagina recklessly across Donna's lips, but the honey-blonde refused to give up so much as a millimeter of the hard and pulsing little mountain of hot and pink flesh she held captive in her mouth ... and soon the almond-eyed girl began to shudder and shake as she approached the raw and naked edge of her fulfillment.
She began to howl and cry just as the honey-blonde became aware of the fire which had developed again in her own vagina. Donna tried to ignore it at first, intent on bringing her roommate to a monumental orgasm ... but the flames soon became so fiercely hot that there was nothing left for her to do but release the death-grip she had on the meat of Valarie's rump and then send one of her hands down into the agony that was her bubbling cauldron. The lips of her vulva were heavy with spunk and they seemed to part as if by magic as she sent a wiggling finger down into her vagina in search of her screaming clitoris.
"I'm so close, lover," Valarie moaned in a frantic sort of ecstasy as she continued to grind her hot, dripping cave of love harder and harder against the mouth of her lover. Donna's tongue continued to lap away at a frenzied sort of pace, driving Valarie closer and closer to that moment of hot and pulsing magic ... and all the while the tip of her finger was busily at work inside her Own sheath, teasing and tickling the clitoris there.
"I'm there," Valarie cried. "Oh, Donna ... lover, I'm going to make it all the way ... really, I ... I'm cumming ... oh Donna ... oh, oh ... I'm really cumming ... I'm cumming...."
Donna, too, was there ... and each of them began to cry and scream and groan as their bodies exploded with the thundering rhythm of their fulfillment. Valarie went first, flying headlong into the sun, and Donna followed less than a second behind her ... and the sound of their screaming was an awesome and terrible thing. Finally, Valarie pulled her vagina away from the honey-blonde's mouth and settled on her back on the surface of the bed.
"Oh, Donna," she cried, breathless. "It was so good, so intense, so ... so...." Tears filled her eyes and she tried to hide her face against a pillow as Donna rolled over next to her and took her into her arms.
"It's all right, Val. It was ... beautiful."
"Would you like to hear something that will probably blow your mind?"
"Only if you want to tell me...."
"Yes, I ... I want to tell you," Valarie said. "I had an orgasm, Donna ... old sex-pot Val had an orgasm. The first one in nearly a year...."
"I ... I don't know what to say," Donna said. "You ... I ... well, I thought...."
"I know what you thought," Valarie said in a whisper. "It's what I want people to think ... but I don't want there to be anything dishonest between us, Donna. That thing I said about being in love with you ... it's really true; I really do love you...."
"I must have been blind," Donna said. "Three years and I never once suspected, Val ... not once!"
"I was afraid to let you know, Donna. You're awfully straight about some things and ... well, I guess I had this vision of getting up-tight and moving out on me if you knew the truth."
"Oh, I never would have done that, Val," Donna said. "I might be awfully straight, but ... wow, you've got to know that I'm not a prude...."
"It's just that I was afraid, Donna ... and to think of all the time we wasted: three years...."
"Yeah; but ... well, at least our first time out was a wonderful thing," Donna said with a little shrug. "What a perfectly insane sort of day this has turned out to be for me ... first that thing with that trick and now this thing between us."
"It sounds as if you're coming around to my way of thinking in the area of sex," Valarie said. "Is that possible, my darling?"
"Sex for the hell of it, huh?"
"That's it...."
"Well," Donna said, hesitantly, "I'm really not totally convinced, but ... I'd be less than honest if I didn't say that this crazy day has put some pretty heavy dents in my old way of thinking about the subject."
"That's a start," Valarie said. "Hey, how about a quick shower together?"
"Will the two of us fit in there together?"
"Oh, it might be a bit snug ... but you won't hear me complaining about it!"
CHAPTER THREE
The girls climbed into the oversized shower together and soon hot, hot water was cascading down against their bodies, like a billion tiny needles biting into their flesh. Donna squealed with delight-the stinging caress of the rushing water made her feel wonderfully alive and pink, almost virginal, and like a virgin, she began to tremble in anticipation as Valarie picked up a washcloth and began to soap her body, wheeling the sudsy invader over every patch and curl of the golden-one's body in slow, swirling, tantalizing strokes that quickly had Donna moaning quietly in expectation.
There was a bench built into one end of the shower stall and Valarie had Donna sit there while she finished the job of soaping her body. She spent several minutes building huge mounds of snowy lather on top of the honey-blonde's quivering breasts, giggling with delight as once again she watched the nipples there swell and grow hard and change color from soft, soft pink to a bold and angry red.
"Spread your legs, lover," Valarie said. "Let me work this bit of terry-cloth against that beautiful love thing you have there."
Donna leaned back against the wall, raising her legs up into the air, high above her head, and then suddenly snapped them open ... and Valarie seemed to lose her breath for a long, long moment.
"Oh, Donna ... lover...."
Valarie dropped the washcloth down against the ripe and pulsing lips of the golden one's vulva, hesitated for a moment ... and then began to work that sudsy invader around and around, and after what seemed like a lifetime of beautiful and terrible agony to Donna, the almond-eyed girl forced a bit of that shimmering bit of terry down past those convulsing lips and into the reawakening load of love-juice that was once again beginning to bubble up hot and thick within her fiery cauldron.
"Rinse off," Valarie cried. "Oh, lover ... lover, I want to make love to you right here in the shower!"
Donna danced out into the middle of the shower, her hips and shoulders moving in a slow and sensuous rhythm, ripely voluptuous, teasing ... and then she stopped, sucked in a deep breath of air that seemed to stretch her breasts to their fullest and proudest position. She placed her hands defiantly on her hips and glared at her roommate with something primitive and wild with promise in her eyes. Valarie began to shudder, her entire body rippling hotly with desire and expectation ... and then she began to groan softly, deep within her throat, signifying the fiery hunger she felt-a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with a need for food.
"Oh, Donna ... oh, I ... I...."
Once again the golden-one began to move, swaying in a gentle sort of rhythm, a mere hint of the fiery sort of passion that was beginning to steam up from her cauldron. She turned her back to Valarie and then sprang up onto the tips of her toes like a ballerina ... and then she twisted her legs and hips into this seemingly impossible sort of position. She stopped, a statue of golden marble, still as stone except for a rippling muscular action which made its way in hotly pulsing spurts across the firm, fleshy cheeks of her round rump.
"My God," Valarie cried. "Donna, I ... oh, lover, I'm dripping ... dripping, lover and I don't mean with water."
"Join me," Donna said.
"Oh, no," Valarie said, and laughed. "I ... I'm afraid I might break something if I tried."
The giggles hit both girls ... and then they started to clown around, teasingly, really hamming it up for one another, lost in a world of freedom which seemed to feed on the little games of titillation each girl played out in great and seductive beauty for the other.
"Hey, I ... I'll be back in a flash," Valarie said, and then darted from the shower. "There's this ... this thing I really want to show you, lover...."
The thing turned out to be a huge leather dildo, complete with a fantastic set of testicles. A complicated series of straps and buckles dangled from the root of the thing ... and Donna watched in wide-eyed fascination as Valarie began to fasten the straps around her waist and hips and thighs.
"Oh, wow," Donna said and giggled. "I mean, are you ever hung, man ... I mean, ma'am!"
Valarie struck what she hoped was a weight-lifter's pose, elbow crooked and muscle flexed, and then she curled the fingers of one hand around the base of the dildo and began to twirl that hunk of dead-cow skin around and around, little animal noises gurgling away madly in her throat.
"How'd you like to have a bit of this, girly?" she said, her voice suddenly deep and rich, surprisingly masculine. "It's guaranteed to please, little missy ... or double your money back."
Donna managed to nod her head.
The water, as it cascaded down on the piece of leather, very quickly turned it into something dark and shiny ... and the honey-blonde began to shudder as an old memory eased its way by tiny pieces into her brain.
What's happening to me? Donna asked herself.
The memory continued to flicker within her, vague and all but formless ... and yet, undeniably frightening. Why? Why?
The dildo....
Something about its size and color ... but what?
The flickering grew brighter and brighter, and then the complete memory exploded into terrifying clarity: it centered around a short and rather violent affair the golden-one had had at seventeen. The boy's name was Tyrone Gilhooley. He had stood six-feet-six at the time of their little fling, six-feet-six and still growing. Tall and terrible Tyrone, the star of the high-school basketball team ... and the only Black man she had ever gone to bed with. They had gone for a ride out in the country so that Tyrone might unwind after a big game ... and they had made love under the stars. It was their first time together-indeed, their only time, as the boy Donna had thought of as sweet and gentle and shy turned out to be a hard and unfeeling boor, concerned only with his own needs and desires. He had slapped her across the face-hard, a dozen times or more, because she had refused to take his long and monstrously hard penis into her mouth.
"Look, bitch," he had screamed. "You're going to blow me ... and I'm not kidding."
"No," Donna had screamed back at him, and then tried to duck out of the path of his huge, meaty hand as it sailed through the air toward her face.
"You'd do it if I were white...."
"That's crazy, Tyrone...."
"Bull shit!"
"Oh, Tyrone...."
He had called her "a hinky hunky-bitch" and then he had threatened to leave her out there in the middle of nowhere if she continued to refuse him. It was already very late ... and it would take her hours and hours to get home if he left her there, Donna decided. Her father would be out of his mind with worry ... and he sure didn't need anything more to worry about.
"All right, Tyrone," she had said, and her voice cracked with pain. "You win ... you win...."
She had been physically ill for weeks after the incident ... and it was nearly another six months before she agreed to go out on a date again. Not that there were all that many offers. Tyrone had apparently spread the tale of their little affair in the woods ... and in a school where racial tensions ran high Donna very quickly found herself persona non grata with many of the white students and she felt that the Black students who asked her out were merely interested in getting a quick roll in the hay from a white chick.
"Hey, Donna," Valarie cried. "Where you at?"
"Oh, I ... I...."
The honey-blonde tried to shake the memory from her mind. The beautiful thing that was beginning to unfold for she and Valarie was too good to let some stupid thing out of her past spoil it, she decided. Somehow, she managed to chase away all thought of Tyrone the Terrible from her mind ... and after a rather long moment a grin returned to her face as she watched the dark-haired girl continue to clown around with the dildo.
It seemed to Donna that Valarie's clowning had taken on a mounting sense of excitement, as if she were caressing something more than a hunk of stuffed leather ... as if that thing had been magically transformed into the real thing, wonderfully alive and throbbing with blood.
"They call me 'the Stud'," Valarie said.
"Oh, my mommy warned me about boys like you," Donna said in what she hoped was a sweet, wide-eyed little girl from the country voice. "You're a nasty boy . , . nasty, nasty ... and if you continue to play with yourself you'll grow hair on the palms of your hands and go crazy. My mommy told me, that's what happens to people who play with themselves-it drives them crazy!"
"It'll drive who crazy, little missy?"
Donna began to laugh, and in her own voice replied : "Er ... ah ... the both of us, Mr. Stud...."
"I usually charge by the inch, baby," Valarie said, "but I'm willing to make an exception in your case ... in fact, I think I'll do it for free."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Stud," Donna said. "You are a kind and noble man."
"Naw; just horny...."
"Me, too," Donna moaned.
The shaft of the dildo was a good twelve inches long and as big around as a half-dollar piece. It was so huge, so ... beautifully huge ... and suddenly the golden-one began to tremble with fear. Valarie sensed the change almost immediately. She stopped her clowning, dropped to her knees in front of Donna and put her arms around her.
"It's really a fun sort of thing, Donna," she said. "The leather is as soft as kid. Here, feel it." Donna hesitated for a moment ... and then the dark-haired girl took her by the hand and curled her fingers around the shank of the dildo. "Soft ... isn't it, sweetheart?"
"Y-y-y-yes...."
It was, indeed, soft, Donna decided, as soft as kid ... but it felt ... well, sort of weak and slimy, too, rather like what she imagined a very, very old man's penis might feel like. The thought made her cringe.
"It's so big," she said.
"I promise, Donna ... really, lover ... I promise I won't put in more than you can handle," Valarie said. "But love boxes are really pretty amazing sort of things-they can take just about any size penis as long as it's done slowly, easily, and most of all, with love ... and I love you too damn much to ever want to hurt you, baby...."
"Okay," Donna said in a quiet little voice.
Once again she spread her long, smoothly tapered legs, catching the heels of her feet at the edge of the bench for support ... and then she settled back, her body covered with rippling gooseflesh, and waited for Valarie to make her move. The dark-haired girl lowered her head and began to nestle her face against the honey-blonde's vulva ... and Donna began to squirm, shivering in delightful expectation.
"Oh, Val ... lover...."
The almond-eyed girl placed a gentle and loving kiss on the moist lips of her roommate's vulva ... and the stall was suddenly heavy with the aroma of Donna's musk, and then Valarie flicked out her tongue and sent it down into that wet and gooey cauldron. She didn't go down very deeply, not more than a quarter of an inch, and after a moment of hesitation she began to run the tip of that bold, pink invader all along the entire length of that pulsing opening ... up and down, up and down, moving faster and faster, but never once penetrating deeper than a quarter of an inch into that tormented mass of spongy red-flesh.
"Val, Val ... oh, God, Val...."
More than anything, the golden-one wanted to grab her roommate by the head and force that teasing tongue down deeply into her vagina ... to feel those hungry lips and wonderful tongue moving about wildly within her cave of love, but she had to hold onto the wall with both hands to keep from sliding off the bench. The agony of the moment was very nearly more than she could bear.
"Deeper, Val," she cried. "Oh, lover ... please, please ... put your tongue deeper into my box, lover. Oh, lover, I ... I ... oh ... oh, Val...."
Valarie placed a parting kiss on the shimmering lips of the honey-blonde's vulva and got to her feet. She leaned forward, bracing herself against the wall with one hand while the other hand began to guide that long, fat hunk of leather she had hanging between her legs down into the wet and fiery mass of quivering flesh that was her roommate's vagina.
"I ... oh, Val, I...."
The dark-haired girl cut off Donna's words with a hot and hungry kiss, and the golden-one reached out and wrapped one of her arms around Valarie's back, cupping the hand at the other arm over the small, firm and trembling magic of one of the luscious breasts that seemed to beckon to her in the process. The nipple there was already hard, alive and pulsing, jerking about with the fiercest sort of desire.
"Relax, lover," Valarie said after a while. "You've got it all, Donna ... every last little fraction of it. Is it all right?"
"Oh, Val ... more than all right! It ... oh, lover, it feels so good ... so good and right...."
For the longest time the honey-blonde was unable to move, afraid that the least bit of action on her part would result in the two of them being sent sprawling onto the floor of the shower ... and so she merely leaned back against the wall, passively enjoying the somehow strangely vibrant motion of that bit of dead-cow skin her roommate eased in and out, in and out of the hot and thundering world of screaming need that was her cave of love.
"Donna ... baby ... lover...."
Finally, almost against her will, the golden-one began to move a little, too-thrusting her vagina upward ever-so-gently to meet her roommate's downward stroke. Gradually, she began to add a little side-to-side motion to the action, rolling and grinding her hips in a tight, tight little circle. It was such a delicious sort of sensation and it very quickly ripped away what little remained of her sense of caution. The thrusting of her pelvis grew wilder, bolder and bolder, more and more demanding ... and then, lost in the heady passion of the moment, she really began to undulate, rocking and grinding, her hips flying about in a huge, circular motion, moaning and crying out her fantastic sense of pure and absolute joy.
"Faster, Valarie," she cried. "Oh, lover ... ram that thing into me. Move, baby ... move ... ride ... faster, lover ... please, please, please ... harder. It's so good, Val ... so ... oh, so wonderful, baby...."
Her hips went into a sort of sliding/rolling motion, one side moving down and in while the other moved up and out ... and there was something in that bit of frantic action which caused that long and fat monster down within her wet and gooey prison to twist and jerk, to slip from side to side as it continued to move in and out, in and out.
"Oh, Val...."
"Yes, lover ... yes...."
Suddenly, the head of the leather penis brushed up hotly against the honey-blonde's clitoris ... and that little mountain of quivering pink flesh seemed to go insane, dancing and jerking and bobbing about wildly, pulsing like a bomb that was about to explode. "Oh, Val ... Val...." "I love you, Donna!"
"Oh, baby ... and I love you," Donna said. "I ... I guess I have for a long, long time but I was afraid to admit it ... even to myself."
"Oh, baby ... I'm so glad that you do!"
The movement of their bodies grew more and more intense, frantic and free, beautifully abandoned and totally committed to the expression of the fiery emotion they felt ... and then Donna began to moan, a raw and gurgling sort of sound from deep within her throat, unmistakably a signal that she was about to experience an orgasm. Suddenly, nothing else mattered ... only the raw and sprawling sense of tension that was beginning to creep into her toes, and she threw everything she had into the rolling of her hips and the grinding of her pelvis. They ended up on the hard floor of the shower, but neither girl seemed even the least bit aware of what had taken place. Valarie never missed a stroke, not a single one, all during the fall ... and Donna began to scream at the top of her voice, crying and jerking, as her climax began to make its way up out of the very tips of her toes.
"Oh, lover ... lover," Donna cried.
"Yes ... oh, yes ... yes...."
It exploded like a million megaton bomb going off in between her legs, the most intense orgasm the honey-blonde had ever experienced ... and it continued to erupt, a good half-dozen different times, each with a distinct beginning, middle and end, each wildly and wonderfully different, alike only in the beauty of their movement and the path in which they traveled, each profoundly complete.
"Oh ... sweet mother of mercy," Donna cried. "Oh, Val, I ... I never knew it could be like this...."
They continued to roll on the floor of the shower, like a pair of trained seals, twisting and barking, groaning and rasping, until at long, long last that final bit of convulsing muscles down with Donna's cauldron stopped twitching ... and then they still didn't move, not for the longest time. It was as if neither of them wanted to break the magic they both felt, and so they lay there, lost in the softness of each other's embrace ... and then Valarie sighed, slapped Donna playfully on the rump and said that it was time to make room for the next act in the Girls from Lesbos spectacular.
It took more than a little time for the girls to get all the various parts of their bodies untangled and separated. The dildo made a strange swooooshingggg sound as it slipped almost reluctantly from that wet and goo-covered mass that was the honey-blonde's spent and battered volcano.
"Oh, Val," Donna said in a whisper, as if she simply didn't have the strength to speak in her normal voice, "that was so fine, lover ... so beautiful. Really, I ... oh, I just don't have the words to describe it, baby, but ... oh ... oh, wow, Val!"
"You liked it, huh?"
"Oh, yes...."
"Now, the only question remaining unanswered is whether or not you will survive the experience," Valarie said, and laughed and laughed. "I guess I do pretty good work, huh?"
"Not bad, not bad...."
Valarie managed to struggle to her feet but the best Donna was able to do was to raise herself up a bit on one elbow. She watched in fascination as the almond-eyed girl began to unfasten the dildo.
"Gee, I didn't know those things were removable...."
Valarie twirled it around and around by the straps and then dropped it down onto Donna's belly.
"Climb into that thing, will you, sweetheart?" she said, a dark and trembling sort of huskiness edging its way into her voice. "And hurry, huh? I'm dripping...."
"What...?"
"It's my turn," Valarie said. "I haven't had that thing inside me for ... well, for a long, long time, and I'm really eager to feel it again. But first ... well, I think I'd better go and find some lubricating jelly. Be right back...."
Donna felt more than a little silly as she attached the dildo to her body. It felt so ... yeah, there was no other word for it, she decided ... so queer as it dangled like a hunk of lifeless meat from her pelvis. It felt heavy, strangely uncomfortable ... and she was unable to fit the huge testicles between her legsnot until she bowed her long and tapered legs.
I pity the poor guy who actually has a thing like this, she said to herself. Imagine, having to carry something this awkward and heavy around with you all the time! Wow! I never thought that guys had it so rough....
Valarie returned, a twisted tube of lubricating jelly in her hand. She squeezed a huge blob of the thick, blue goo into the palm of her hand and began to swirl it over the head and shank of the leather dildo, really covering that hunk of imitation manhood with heavy layers of the gunk. She squeezed another blob of the jelly into her hand, pushed it down so that it formed a high mound at the tips of her fingers ... and then she reached down between her legs, past her dripping vagina, and up, up into the dark and quivering world of her anus. She looked up into the eyes of the golden-one and smiled.
"I ... I really love it in the ... the back door," she said, a hint of some nameless sort of apprehension in her voice. "Oh, do I ever love it...."
"I ... I don't know, Val...."
"Oh, don't be so damn square," Valarie sputtered. "I mean ... hell, it's my tail, isn't it?"
"But won't it hurt you?"
"Oh, yeah," Valarie cried, her eyes big and round. "It hurts so nice, lover ... so very, very nice!"
Donna shrugged. "Okay...." she said, but her tone seemed to lack any real conviction. "I mean, I guess ... if you really want it, Val."
Valarie leaned forward against the wall of the shower, her arms spread out above her head and the fingers curled around two small chrome bars high up on the wall that Donna had never noticed before indeed, they looked as if they had been placed on the wall for the specific purpose to which they were about to be put.
"I'm ready, Donna...."
"I'm not...."
"Aw, c'mon, lover," Valarie said.
Once again the honey-blonde shrugged ... and then she took up a position in back of her roommate. Valarie reached down through her legs and grabbed the dildo and placed the head of it between the cheeks of her buttocks. She began to grunt and moan and squeal as Donna began to slide the long, thick, goocovered invader up into her anus.
"Oh, yeah, baby," Valarie said. "Yes ... yes...."
The golden-one slipped both of her arms tightly down around her roommate's firm, shimmering belly digging in for leverage, and then she began to roll her hips from side to side, twisting and grinding away at the dildo until all of the phony penis was up inside Valarie's dark and puckering hole.
"Is it okay, Val?"
"It's wonderful, lover...."
Donna slid one of her hands up to Valarie's firm, trembling breasts and began to toy with one of the dark, hard nipples she found there, rolling it gently between her thumb and forefinger ... and then she sent her other hand down into the top part of the dark-haired girl's vagina, digging around in the meaty folds of skin there until she made contact with the clitoris there. "Oh, Donna...."
Valarie began to bounce about, urging Donna to action ... and, finally, the honey-blonde began to slide that thick and meaty invader which hung between her legs in and out, in and out of its dark and puckering prison. The dark-haired girl began to shudder, crying out, pleading at the top of her voice for Donna to really cut loose.
"Harder," she commanded. "Oh, Donna ... really ram that thing up into my ass ... ram it ... ram it, lover ... oh, baby ... yes ... yes, that's it ... that's the way I want it. Ram it ... ram it...."
The muscles in Donna's thighs and calves began to scream for relief, but somehow the golden-one managed to continue at her task, pounding away wildly with that awesome hunk of leather, ramming and driving and grinding, moving as if she were possessed, faster and faster and faster ... and as she wailed away, her lips and tongue were busily nibbling and licking and kissing away at the goose bump-covered flesh of the almond-eyed girl's back and neck and shoulders.
"Oh, Donna, I ... oh, I think ... yes ... oh, yes ... yes ... I'm going to make it, lover! Really, I ... oh, Donna ... lover ... lover, I'm going to make it! It's so good, baby ... so very, very good...."
"Oh, Val...."
Donna's hands were busy, too:
One tugged and rolled and jerked away at the hard and swollen little mountain of quivering pink flesh that was her roommate's screaming clitoris while the other kneaded and teased and tormented those small, ripe breasts, flicking the edge of her thumb back and forth, back and forth across the hard and convulsing agony that were those dark and angry nipples in the process, first one and then the other, back and forth, again and again and again. "Donna ... oh, lover...."
The honey-blonde's legs began to tremble, and she felt that they were going to give out at her at any moment, but still, somehow, she continued to grind away at a wild and frenzied sort of pace ... and then her whole body began to scream with pain, shaking convulsively, and all the while Valarie continued to howl for more.
"Oh, Val ... I ... my legs," Donna cried, and then she felt a vague movement in Valarie's vagina, a tight little jerk in the muscles down there.
"I ... Donna, I think ... oh, lover...."
There was a second little jerking movement, stronger this time, and then another, and another, and still another, and then the dark-haired girl began to moan and cry out in the most fantastic sort of joy ... and soon her whole body was thrashing about in a wild and reckless abandonment.
"Yes, I ... I'm there," she screamed. "Oh, Donna, I'm going to cum. I am ... I'm cumming, lover ... oh God, I'm cumming I'm cumming...."
Valarie's thrashing became so violent that the imitation penis slipped from her anus ... and she began to cry out in a horrible sort of rage. Somehow, Donna managed to maintain her grip on her roommate's clitoris, rolling and tugging and twisting away at that tortured bit of flesh until the almond-eyed girl was forced to push away her hand.
"I ... I made it again, lover," she said, and then turned around and fell sobbing into Donna's arms. "I ... it ... oh, Donna, it was so beautiful...."
* * *
Later, as both girls lay in bed with the lights out, Valarie lighted a cigarette and then held the flame from her lighter high up over her head to see whether or not Donna was asleep in the next bed. The honey blonde smiled, rolled over on her side and then sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Feel like talking?" Valarie said.
"I guess," Donna said. "I can't seem to get to sleep anyway. Should I put the light on?"
"No ... I mean, it's sort of nice in the dark...."
"Boy, my head ... it's spinning like a top. What a day this has been for me, what an absolutely impossible and insane sort of day. I've got an exam in Russian history first thing in the morning and I'm not nearly well enough prepared ... and the funny thing is I really don't seem to care. After what happened to me today ... well, it all seems kind of pointless or something. So old Dr. Zuckow gives me a 'hook' ... so what? It won't be the first 'C I ever received...."
"Yeah; I've got an exam over six chapters in Soc and I haven't read the first page yet. I guess I'm really feeling burned out. Good thing the semester break is coming up. It's the only thing that's keeping me together. Hey ... yeah; an idea: why don't you spend the break with me? I mean, my mother and father are always good for a laugh ... and I've got a kid brother that I'd love for you to meet. He's only fourteen, but big ... sort of raw-boned, and already so damn sexy that he has to carry a club around with him to beat off all the little chippies who want to get into his pants."
"Oh, Val...."
"Hey ... I'm not kidding!"
"Don't you think I'm a bit old for him?"
"Not for what I have in mind!"
"And what might that be ... as if I didn't already know. You're impossible, Val. Really...."
"Look, I'm pretty sure that the kid is still cherry, and ... well, he ... he...."
"He what?"
"It's just that I'd like to see him get off to a really dynamite start-sexually, I mean. My first time with a male was so horrible ... oh, Donna, really, it still gives me the creeps to even think about it. That's one of the reasons I turned to girls. I mean, it's only been about the last year or so that I've really been able to get it on with a man ... and even now it's not good that often."
"I can't believe this," Donna said with a laugh. "I mean, you actually want me to ... to introduce your kid brother to the finer points of ... of balling."
"Only if you're really into it," Valarie said. "I'd do it myself except that I'm afraid that it might really mess with his head-incest and all that crap, and I'm afraid that he's already carrying around enough problems."
"Wow ... that's a heavy trip, Val!"
"What ... oh, the incest thing?"
"Yeah...."
"Because we're blood relatives?"
"Yeah; that ... and other things!"
"More crap from the great Liberal grist mill," Valarie said. "Tell me, Donna, do you still believe in the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny? How about jolly old Saint Nick?"
"Screw off...."
"You don't want to hear the truth, huh?"
"All right, Val," Donna said. "You backed me into a corner. What, pray tell, is the radical position on incest?"
"Look, there's only one real problem with incestual activity: the possibility of pregnancy."
"You admit that that is a problem?"
"Oh, of course ... nobody wants a two-headed baby."
"Well, what was...."
"Wait a minute," Valarie said. "I hadn't finished. Back sometime during the dark ages they discovered that pregnancies which came about as a result of an incestuous relationship all too often produced deformed and/or retarded progeny, but instead of dealing with the real issue-deformed babies-they went into a whole lot of black magic bull about sex between persons with close blood tied being the work of the devil. It's another example of the cure being worse than the ailment."
"I don't know. I suppose you're right!"
"You know I'm right...."
"Yeah; but there's a hell of a difference between knowing a thing in your head and knowing it in your gut. Intellectually, I know you're right ... the real problem is one of pregnancy ... and I haven't missed a single b.c. pill since I was about fifteen. Still, I've been conditioned to reject the entire concept: incest is a no-no, one of the real biggies ... and my gut tells my brain to go fly a kite. I know it's stupid, but what am I supposed to do?"
"Fight your gut...."
"I'm trying to, Val. Hell, homosexual sex is another of the really big no-nos, but I managed to get by that one ... either that or I had a hell of a fantasy today."
"It was no fantasy, lover," Valarie said. "But what about my sexy brother?"
"What about him?"
"Will you show him the ropes?"
"I'll give it some thought, Val ... but, listen, I'm not making any promises."
"I understand...."
"What are your parents like?"
"Rich ... very rich!"
"No, really...?"
"Well, my mother is a tramp. She'll spread her still beautiful legs for just about anything in pants ... anything, that is, except my dear old daddy."
"C'mon, Val...."
"It's the truth, Donna ... really, and it's been going on for a lot of years. The summer I was ten we took a cottage up in New England, right on the ocean ... and the very first week we were up there I walked in on my sweet, wonderful mommy and one of her lovers-a sixteen-year-old kid with a face full of pimples. I mean, he had come to deliver groceries or something like that ... and my mother has a real thing about tipping good service. Anyway, as I remember the scene, mums was busily sucking him off as I walked in on them."
"Oh, Val ... how horrible."
"It got better...."
"You don't have to tell me, lover!"
"But I want to, Donna. The next week the kid with the pimples came to deliver another load of groceries and this time he brought a friend along with him-at Mommy's request, I'm sure, and she took both of them on. That sort of thing went on all that summer ... except, of course, on those weekends when my father joined us, and it has never really stopped. I hate to tell you the number of young beaus I lost to my mother. She has an absolute passion for young stuff, although I do think she draws the line at anything under twelve."
"I'm sorry, Val...."
"Don't be. She's not your mother!"
"Does your father ... well, is he hip to the sort of thing your mother is into?"
"He pretends he isn't, but ... hell, he'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know."
"Why doesn't he divorce her?"
"I don't know...."
"Wow," Donna said, and shook her head slowly from side-to-side. "It ... it doesn't make any sense!"
"She's such a bitch, Donna," Valarie said, her voice trembling with angry bitterness. "Mom was some sort of campus queer back in her day. Somehow, my Dad got into her pants and when she found out I was on the way ... well, they got married. I guess she figures that she missed out on some sort of fun career because she had to get married. I don't know. Anyway, she's spent most of her married life trying to get even with my father ... and what better way than sleeping around?"
"I wish I could think of something to say!"
"Don't even try, lover. It's not your problem."
Tears welled up in the eyes of the dark-haired girl and began to spill down her face in great, scalding rivulets. She stamped out the stub of her cigarette, covered her face with her hands and turned her back to Donna. The honey-blonde waited, feeling that her roommate didn't want her to take her into her arms and comfort her ... and yet she was unable to think of anything else she might say or do.
"The thing that really scares the crap out of me, Donna, is the fact that I'm really very much like my mother ... self-centered and reckless, and I don't think I could live with myself if I ever put a man I loved through the sort of changes she's laid on my father."
"It really bothers me, Val, that I've been so damn insensitive to ... to your situation. I mean, we've been so close all these years ... and I never knew any of this. I never once asked or ... or anything. Oh, wow, what a king-sized idiot I've been...."
"Will you climb out of that guilt bag, Donna? It's about the most unproductive thing going. Really! Besides, if I had wanted you to know about my family and all that I would have told you. Okay...?"
"I guess...."
"How are things with your dad?"
"About the same, I guess...."
"More wares from the guilt bag, Donna?"
"You've got it...."
"And it isn't going to do me a bit of good to tell you what a real bummer that trip is, is it?"
"I'm afraid not!"
"What have you got to be guilty about?"
"The fact that my father damn near killed himself trying to ... to make a better life for me," Donna said. "The fact that I was so wrapped up in my own thing that I wasn't even aware of the danger he was in."
"Okay; so ... you messed over him. You didn't mean for it to happen, but it did, indeed, happen. The thing is, you're doing everything in your power to make it all up to him."
"Yeah; but ... in a way that would probably kill him if he ever found out about it, Val. Boy, I don't know ... I'm so damn confused. Being a call girl isn't anything at all like what I expected it would be. I had a ball today, Val. I mean, that Bob, he was so sweet and gentle ... and I felt almost as if we were lovers or something, you know!"
"Yeah ... Bob's a great human being...."
"Are there others like him?"
"A few," Valarie said. "I mean, Bob is a pretty exceptional type. Usually, the guys we get ... well, they're nice enough, but all they're really after is a chance to get their rocks off in something that looks sexier than their wives. We even get a weirdo every now and then, but-let me assure you, we get rid of that type so fast they don't know what hit them. Really, all I need is one complaint about a trick from any of the girls-just one, and his name gets torn out of my little black book."
"That's reassuring...."
"Actually, it's the female tricks that give me the biggest headaches. We've got a couple of diesel dykes who are really bananas ... into leather and chains and that whole super-masculine trip, but they both pay top dollar and tip like crazy so the girls don't complain about either of them."
"Female tricks! Wow...."
"We've even got a few husband and wife teams who hire our girls for an evening of fun and games," Valarie said, and then paused to light a fresh cigarette. "There's this one couple-a medical doctor and his wife, and they are going to go ape when I tell them about you. They've got a real thing about blondes ... and Donna, baby, you're just about as blonde as they come. So golden, lover, and ... and ... and I'd better change the subject. As crazy as it may sound, I ... I'm getting all worked up again. Really, the juices down inside my love hole are beginning to run again."
"If you don't mind my asking, Val, how did you ever get started in this crazy business?"
"Oh, just lucky, I guess...."
"No! Really? I'd like to know...."
"Well, I ... I'd turned a trick or two when I was in high school, just for a lark," Valarie said. "I met Bob after I got here to Cutter and ... I don't know, he had some big sales promotion thing going and he wanted me to supply a bunch of girls for a party he planned to throw for the buyers. The party was a big success and ... that's how it got started. Most of the kids are in it for kicks. It gives them a boost to the ego to know that a guy will pay to go to bed with them. I know that you're in it for the money, but there's something more than that about you that's not like the other kids. I'll be damned if I can figure out what it is, but it's there all the same."
"It must be my working-class background...."
"Yeah; that makes sense...."
"Hey, Val," Donna said. "I was kidding. C'mon----"
"But it's really the only thing that makes any sense. Donna. I mean, there seems to be a dimension to your personality that's missing in the rest of us. It's like ... well, like we're all burned out, jaded, and you're still sort of fresh and wide-eyed. And I really think that it's the money thing that's made the difference. It's like the rest of us were taught that money was the measure ... and by the time we discovered what a crock that is it was already too late. We were ruined, lost and...."
"You're not ruined, Val!"
"Oh, yeah...?"
"You're coming on like a Marxist or something."
"Oh ... Karl or Groucho?"
"Okay," Donna said, and laughed to cover the sense of embarrassment. "I mean, you know that philosophy is really not my field."
"Mine either, lover...."
"I still think you're wrong about the class thing."
"Maybe so. But it must be after midnight already ... and you've got to be up at six-thirty. We really should be on our way to dreamland. Oh ... one thing! Very quickly, and then I'll shut my mouth and let you go to sleep ... about the semester break! How about it, lover? Will you spend it with me at Applewood ... six hundred and forty acres and a brother who looks like a Greek god?"
"And is fourteen years old!"
"Going on twenty-five...."
"It sure sounds tempting, Val."
"I'll even let you share my room. I've got this super-huge bed that we can play in and...."
"I can't, Val...."
"Your father, huh?"
"I promised him I'd be home ... and he really looks forward to my visits. No ... that's a cop-out. I want to spend the time with him, Val. As cornball as it may sound, I really enjoy his company. I ... I...."
"Hey, I can dig where you're coming from," Valarie said. "If he were my old man I'd probably be saying the same things. But look, we get a week and a half off from school. You could spend at least a few of them with me. I mean, I'll even drive to Cleveland to get you. It'd save you flying back ... and you could add that to your savings. What do you say, lover?"
"What can I say? Yes...."
"It's settled then?"
"As far as I'm concerned, it is," Donna said. "But what about your parents, Val? Perhaps they've made other plans for you or something...."
"No chance," Valarie said. "And now I think we'd better get to sleep. I'm afraid I'm just about to the point where I'm feeling like crawling over to your bed and ripping your little nightie from your beautiful body."
"You wouldn't do that!"
"Don't bet on it, Donna...."
"Not tonight, you wouldn't."
"Oh, Donna...."
"Can I tell you a little secret, lover?"
"Shoot...."
"I slipped out of my little nightgown ... oh, about ten minutes ago," Donna said, her voice very soft and throaty filled, with promise. "I'd sure hate to end up this beautiful day by playing with myself, but ... well, if you're too tired and everything, I guess I'll just have to do that very thing. Boy, what a pal you turned out to be, Val...."
The dark-haired girl ground out the cigarette she had been smoking ... and then leaped from her bed into Donna's waiting arms. She squealed with delight as the honey-blonde wrapped her strong arms around her shoulders ... and then the squealed around her shoulders ... and then the squeal melted away to a soft and gentle moan as once again their lips met.
CHAPTER FOUR
Valarie was waiting outside the door to Donna's Russian history class when the honey-blonde left the room. Donna saw the dark-haired girl and her face immediately broke into a wide and radiant sort of smile.
"This is a pleasant surprise, Val...."
"How'd the exam go, kid?"
"Not as bad as I had expected," Donna said. "There were three fairly simple essays-one long and two short, and twenty fill-in type questions. I figure I got either a high B or, if I'm lucky and old Zuckow happens to get himself a little piece before he grades those things, a low A. But, tell me, what are you doing here?"
"Do you have time for coffee, Donna? I really need to talk with you about something important. I mean, it's strictly a business thing!"
Donna glanced down at her wristwatch and frowned. "If we can make it a very quick cup," she said. "I've been late for the class I'm in next so many times the instructor is really starting to get antsy about it...."
"Who is it....?"
"McIntyre ... English Lit,"-Donna said.
"Don't worry about young Mr. McIntyre," Valarie said. "He owes me a favor or two...."
"Are you telling me his name is in your little black book or something, Val?"
"I'm not telling you, but ... I will say that you have made a very intelligent guess."
"I guess I have time for coffee then...."
"The Hub okay?"
"Fine; it's right on the way to my next class."
"Are you ready for another assignment?" Valarie said, as the two girls started across campus.
"Physically, you mean?" Donna said, and grinned. "I mean, what the heck time was it when you woke me up this morning in that ... that most unusual manner?"
"A little after five," Valarie said, and shrugged. "I was already awake and ... well, you were lying there, all golden and naked and sweet and ... I just couldn't resist it, lover. Sorry...."
"Don't apologize. It was delightful, Val ... really, and that velvet tongue of yours has got to be the absolute greatest alarm clock in the whole world. What a beautiful way to greet a new day ... to awaken and find you with your head between my legs, lapping away like crazy."
The girls laughed ... and Valarie took Donna's hand for a moment. Hand-holding among members of the student body was frowned on at Cutter. It was considered ... well, something less than dignified.
The Hub was fairly crowded. The girls purchased their coffee and then found an isolated table off in one corner of the huge, barn-like dining room where they could talk and not be overheard.
"I've got you set up with another trick," Valarie said. "I don't know the guy. The whole thing was set up over the phone ... and I sure don't like doing business that way, but he's a friend of Bob Mackey and Bob only sends the very best our way."
"I'm ready," Donna said. "Where and when do I meet him?"
"At the Good Knight's ... same room; about four this afternoon. Can you make it?"
"No problem...."
"Good; the guy's name is Bill something or other. I got the feeling he doesn't do this sort of thing very often. He sounded older than Bob on the phone ... about fifty, I'd say, but I'm almost always wrong about these things. Anyway, he wants you to go down on him. I told him that was extra ... so the fee is one-fifty and Bob's friends are always good for at least a fifty-buck tip."
Donna glanced down at her wristwatch. "Hey, I'd really better run, Val."
"Yeah; me, too, baby. Only listen: Don't let that trick take everything you have. Remember, I'll be waiting for you in our little love nest ... all misty-eyed and lonely."
"All dewy-thighed and horny, you mean...."
Valarie smiled and patted Donna's hand. "It all means the same thing," she said. "Doesn't it?"
"In some circles, it does, I guess...."
* * *
The trick turned out to be a good deal younger than Valarie had guessed him to be about thirty-five or so. He was short and grossly overweight, with huge, round, colorless eyes, a nose that had been broken and improperly set, and thick, loose, blueberry sort of lips. He threw his arms around Donna the minute she entered the living room of the motel suite ... and then he buried his head hungrily against her breasts.
"Easy, lover," Donna said, and tried to laugh. "I mean, you might at least allow me to get out of my clothing before we ... before we get down to anything serious."
"Oh, yeah ... right...."
He released his grip on her and then backed away a step or two, fire snapping in his eyes. Mounds of frothing slobber formed at the corners of his lips. He wiped his hand across his mouth and then wiped the slobber which had transferred to his hand off on the side of his pants, and Donna wanted to turn and run, to flee ... and yet she was afraid to move, immobilized by the violence she felt lay just beneath the surface of the trick's trembling eagerness.
"Are those things real?" he said.
"What things ... oh, my breasts," Donna said, and tried to control the tremor in her voice. "Well, of course, they're real, but I ... I...."
"Let's see them, huh?" the trick said, and reached out to grab her once again. "Here, sister, I'll help you out of your things...."
"I don't need any help. Really, I ... I'm a big girl and I can undress myself."
The trick grabbed one of the honey-blonde's breasts and began to squeeze it roughly in his hand. "Hey," he said, seemingly delighted, "they are real. C'mon ... c'mon ... get shed of your duds. I got to see them, all bare and everything. C'mon ... c'mon," he commanded, and once again wiped away the huge mounds of frothing slobber which had collected at the corners of his mouth.
"You're hurting me, Mister...."
The trick looked at her in disbelief, cocking his head first to one side and then to the other. "I'm sorry," he said, and grinned. "Really, I didn't mean anything!"
"Then let go...."
"Oh, sure ... sure," he said as his grin grew wider and wider, but another thirty seconds or so passed before he finally released his grip on her breast. "I'm pretty excited, I guess. C'mon, blondie, I'll help you out of your duds."
Donna was very nearly in tears. "I told you," she snapped at the trick, "I don't need any help. I'm perfectly capable of undressing myself!"
"But I want to do it...."
"Well, okay, but ... it'll cost you extra," the golden-one said, as she played for time, her brain racing a mile a minute as she tried to come up with a plan that would allow her to beat it the hell out of that room before the madman she found herself trapped with did something ... something really stupid.
"How much extra?"
"Ah ... fifty dollars," Donna said, quickly, her voice little more than raspy whisper. "Fifty bucks?"
"That's it...."
"That's some union you broads got," the trick said, a look of pure disgust on his face. "Maybe you'd better just go ahead and undress yourself, babe!"
"Yeah, I ... ah ... I think I'll just step into the powder room for a minute and freshen up a bit, and while I'm there you can be getting undressed and fixing the bed. All right ... ah ... lover? The sheets on that bed are really something else, sexy as all get out...."
"I didn't see them," the trick said, and blinked his blank and colorless eyes. "I mean, I gave the joint the once over when I first got here and I saw the big bed in there ... but I didn't pull down the spread or anything. Fifty bucks a day for this dump.
Wow. Hey, listen ... that other broad, the one I talked to on the phone...."
"Valarie ... T'
"Yeah; that's the one. What a crazy name, huh? Did she say anything to you about ... about ... that is ... you see, there's this special thing I want you to do and I told the other broad, that Valarie about it, and I was wondering if she passed the info on to you?"
"She told me," Donna said.
"Yeah; well ... I mean, what did she tell you?"
"She said that you wanted me to go down on you!"
"Yeah; I want you to blow me...."
"All right...."
"All the way...."
"I understand," Donna said. "It's cool ... all the way. I really understand...."
"All the way," the trick said, "that means ... well, that I get to cum in your mouth, right? I mean, you really understand that part of it?"
A wave of anger seemed to sweep over the honey blonde's face and her lips began to move ... but no intelligible sound would come from her mouth. Somehow, she managed to nod her head ... and the trick's face broke into an ugly, lopsided sort of grin. He ran his tongue over his lips, like an animal licking its chops in anticipation of a fresh-meat kill ... and all the while his colorless eyes seemed to grow bigger and bigger and bigger.
"You won't back out, will you?"
Donna shook her head, afraid to speak ... afraid that the violent anger she felt burning throughout her entire body might suddenly erupt if she did.
"I was down in Mexico once," the trick said, "and I got tied up with this fat, old hooker. She spoke pretty good English, for a spic broad and everything ... and she really wasn't all that bad looking. Anyway, I gave her a whole bunch of pesos to do a little number on me ... suck me off, you know. I mean, she agreed to it ... and then all she would do was kiss it a few times and then she wouldn't do it anymore. I ... boy, I...." he said as he balled his right hand into a huge, round fist and slammed it down against the opened palm of his other hand with a horrible cracking sort of noise that made Donna jump, " ... really gave it to that stinking bitch. She made me mad, trying to rip me off like that, and I came so damn close to killing her it ain't funny. No kidding, it scares me even to think about it. I mean, I think I'd go crazy if I ever ended up in one of those Mexican slammers. The ones in this country are bad enough-not that I've been inside all that many of them, but those spies, man ... it's like they were still living back in the dark ages or something."
"Why are you trying to frighten me?"
"Who says that I am?"
"Oh, c'mon, man," Donna said. "Wasn't that whole riff you just went into designed to frighten me? To let me know that you're one hell of a mean dude and all that crap? I mean, dig it, Mister, I enjoy my work ... and I don't plan to back off, but not because of that weird story you just laid on me."
"It's just that I feel a guy should get what he pays for."
"So do I...."
"Then we really don't have a problem then, do we?"
"I don't know," Donna said. "Do we?"
"I thought you had to use the powder room?"
"I do, I do...."
"Well; why don't you get to getting?"
"I'm on my way," Donna said. "I'll be back before you've had a chance to really miss me, lover...."
"Hey; I miss you already, blondie. You're really beautiful ... and that ain't no line."
"Thank you...."
"I mean, I bet you could be in the movies or something," the trick said, and once again wiped away the mounds of frothing slobber which had formed at the corners of his mouth. "One of them triple-X-rated numbers. I mean, most of the broads in those things are scags-real dogs, you know?"
"I don't get to see too many movies," Donna said as she began to ease her way toward the bathroom. "Now, you get the bed ready for us, lover, while I make myself ... ah, like one of the heroines in a sexploitation epic."
"Okay ... only hurry, huh?"
Donna walked into the bathroom and quickly locked the door behind her. Suddenly, she began to shake violently ... so violently that she had to grab onto the edge of the vanity to keep from losing her balance.
What am I going to do?
The trick was so ugly ... like an ape or something. How could Bob Mackey have sent him-such a fat, dirty, ugly animal-to Valarie? The honey-blonde had been expecting to spend a few pleasant hours with some business-type, someone very much like Bob himself, but the trick out in the other room ... he was like some mafia gunsel or a dock-walloper, grungy and uneducated and horribly fat.
He must weigh three hundred pounds, Donna told herself. God, he'll crush me to death ... and the way he grabbed at me when I walked in, like an animal or something.
What am I going to do?
She looked at her reflection in the huge mirror above the vanity, as if somehow she might find all the answers to her questions there ... but the image that stared back at her looked every bit as frightened and angry and confused as she, and after a while she kicked her shoes off and began to undress.
There was no way out, she decided.
He's liable to kill me if I back out on him now.
Oh, God ... what a mess ... what a rotten, stinking mess I've gotten myself into this time. And that Bob Mackey ... wait, I swear ... I'll kill the bastard with my bare hands if he so much as even says good morning to me. Why? Why? Why did he send that creep to Valarie?
She was completely nude when she heard the trick approach the bathroom door. "Hey," he roared, and began to slam his huge, ham-like fist against the door. "Hey ... what did you do? Fall in or something?"
"Ah ... almost ready," Donna called back.
"Yeah; well ... hurry it up, will you?" the trick said. "I got a look at those sheets and ... yeah, you were right. They're really sexy. Now I want to put them to use. C'mon, I ... I'm getting kind of antsy...."
Donna reached over and flushed the toilet ... and the trick began to laugh. She waited, listening to the sound of his pacing just outside the door. He seemed to move in a short, heavy, circular path, around and around and around, his bare feet slapping against the tile ... and Donna thought of him as a roly-poly puppy, chasing its own tail, and the image almost brought a smile to her lips, but then he started to cough and wheeze, horribly, and the image shifted to one of an old and ugly piece of machinery which had suddenly run amuck and threatened to destroy anything that ran across its path.
"What's taking so damn long in there?"
"Be ... right out."
What am I going to do?
"I'd hate to have to bust this door down, blondie, but I will if you don't get your tail in gear pretty soon. C'mon, I'm really tired of all this waiting...."
The trick began to pound on the door, really slamming the meat of his hands against it ... so hard that the hinges began to rattle in protest, harder and harder and harder. Donna wanted to scream, to cry out for someone-anyone to come and save her. Her usual golden radiance had paled to a sickly ashen gray ... and anyone but a blind man would have been immediately aware of the terror blazing in her eyes.
"Oh God, girl," he said in a whisper to her reflection in the mirror, "you look like ... like death warmed over or something. C'mon, Donna, you've got to get a grip on yourself or you're really going to blow it...."
Bang ... bang ... bang....
"Another thirty seconds, blondie, and-I swear, I'b going to kick this lousy door in. The whole thing is starting to smell fishy ... damn fishy...."
II he has to break the door down I'm dead.
She snapped open the lock on the door and then strolled casually from the bathroom. The trick took one look at her and began to pant like a shaggy dog fighting the heat of an August afternoon ... his voice cracked and his fat, blubbery lips began to flap, and there was a look on his face which suggested that he had just at that very moment been kicked soundly in the gut by a strong and very angry Missouri mule.
"Geez," he said.
"You like, huh?"
"Oh, blondie, I ... I...."
The trick really began to froth at the mouth ... and for a short time he made a violent effort to wipe away the huge mounds of slobber which kept forming at the corners of his lips, but after a bit he shrugged and seemed to give it up as an impossible task. He stared at the honey-blonde with those colorless eyes of his, eyes that seemed to have been heated to the boiling point and beyond, eyes that were glassed over and bloodshot ... a junkie's eyes, Donna decided, unable to accept the reality of the pale and golden vision they held.
"Say something, lover," she teased.
"Oh, geez ... geez, blondie...."
He reached out to touch her and all she did was shake her head, no, and he pulled the hand back, like a kid who had been caught reaching for the cookie jar. It suddenly hit the golden-one that she had stumbled on the one way she had of getting control of the situation: she had to keep him off guard ... to "pimp" him, as they said in the trade. She smiled and a bit of color seemed to find its way back to her face ... and then she drew in an enormous breath of air, filling her breasts to a point where it appeared that the flesh which covered them might burst open from the tension ... and the strain on her muscles there set the nipples to pulsing, bobbing about wildly, pale and pink and beautifully proud. Feet at a forty-five-degree angle, she placed her hands on her hips, arms akimbo, and then glared at the trick with frankly defiant eyes while she sent the tip of her tongue on its little journey round the rim of her soft, pouting lips.
"Oh, my God," the trick cried. "You like that tongue, lover?"
"Oh, yes ... yes...."
His enormous belly began to jerk, the puffy flesh there moving in a crazy-quilt sort of pattern of thick, rippling layers of tortured blubber . ... and the smile on Donna's face grew broader and broader as she began to realize how easily she had gained control of the situation, how a few, simple bits of affected bodily motion on her part had reduced that mountain of towering fat to a helpless load of quivering jelly. For the very first time she allowed herself to look down at his penis ... and it was all she could do to keep from snickering. It was so tiny ... not nearly as big as one of her thumbs, and it was still soft and helpless, a rather lifeless-looking little twig of purplish flesh poking out in confused and frightened uncertainty from between the monstrous girth of his thick and pink, fat-ladened thighs.
He's even more frightened than I am, Donna decided. Oh, the poor slob. The poor, poor slob....
She took him gently, tenderly by the hand and led him huffing and puffing and blowing into the bedroom. She waited for him to make some sort of move ad then, when he didn't, she pushed him down onto the bed and crawled up on top of him. She began to tease him, jiggling the tips of her full, ripe breasts ever-so-lightly against the skin of his face ... and the fat man began to snort. He parted his loose, blubbery lips and then drew one of the honey blonde's hard, pulsing nipples down into his fiery mouth, sucking it down with such a force that tiny sparks of hotly sprawling pleasure-pain began immediately to shoot their way from her breasts all the way down to her groin.
"Oh, easy ... hey, easy, lover," she cried. "That's not a hunk of old shoe leather you've got in your mouth. Hey ... really ... that hurts...."
The trick eased up a bit on her nipple and began to knead the ripe flesh of her buttocks in his hand, really digging the tips of his fingers down into the tender meat there ... and after a while he took one of her hands and guided it to the still soft and helpless little twig that was his manhood.
Donna curled her fingers gently around the shaft of that tiny thing and began to tug away tenderly at it, almost as if she were afraid of hurting it, and after a while she could feel it begin to pulse as it filled with blood. The twig began to swell and soon it was half-erect ... and Donna was convinced that she had felt a vague little hint of a throb begin to work its way from down within his hard and screaming testicles.
He spit her nipple from his mouth and began to lick and suck his way over to her other breast ... and once again he snorted before parting his lips and drawing that cone of hard and trembling flesh up into his mouth. Donna let the little finger of her hand at his penis slide down under his testicles and began to trace a little circular pattern there on that bit of hard, trembling flesh ... and the trick began to groan as his whole body seemed to convulse, and the huge bed under them began to groan in protest.
Donna used every trick of digital manipulation she knew, rubbing and jerking and stroking, but still that twig of angry flesh refused to come to full attention ... and so, after a rather long moment of hesitation, she pulled her nipple from his mouth and began to kiss and lick and nibble her way down his body. She began at his thick, bull-like neck, stopped to plant a long, soulful kiss on each of his nipples, and then made her way down to his belly.
"Oh, blondie," the trick cried. "Oh, jeez...."
She darted her tongue in and out, in and out of his wide, hairy navel, and then moved on down to the patch of dark and wiry hair which lay in soggy profusion just about his manhood. He cupped both of his hands around the back of her neck and began to push her head down until he felt the smooth skin of her face make contact with his penis.
"Suck me, blondie," he cried.
Donna opened her mouth and sent her tongue corkscrewing down under his testicles, licking away wildly at the base of the thick seam there ... and the trick began to howl, like an animal with its leg caught in a steel trap.
"Jeez, blondie. I ... oh, God, I ... I...."
The honey-blonde began to swirl the tip of her tongue all over the underside of his stones, licking and nibbling until the sac of skin covering those tiny spheres of hard and convulsing need was heavy with juice, and the trick began to rock from side-to-side in an awesome and pathetic parody of undulation ... and the bed under them really began to howl and grown under the added strain of its workload.
His manhood began to flick about, completely erect now and screaming with need ... and Donna worked the tip of her tongue up slowly along the underside of that hard and angry bit of flesh. She hesitated for a moment as she reached the head of his penis, and then with the trick whimpering like a frightened little puppy, she planted a long, lingering sort of kiss on the head of his penis. She held his penis in one hand and slipped the other one down through his enormous thighs and began to rub the tips of her fingers around and around the perimeter of his anus ... and the trick began to giggle, like some silly little girl on her first real date, and then that dark and angry hole began to pucker, moving in convulsive and hard little waves, and the giggle rose in pitch until at last it became little more than a high-pitched whine. Once again the honey-blonde curled her lips around the head of his manhood, kissed it, and then began to slide the broad of her tongue across that tiny patch of skin, moving faster and faster until her tongue felt like the blade of a vibrator ... and the trick began to roll and jerk, crying out his sense of need in a voice that was loud enough to be heard for blocks away.
Donna let the head of his manhood slip from between her lips ... and as it jerked and bobbed about she began to blow little jets of cool air against the still moist patch of skin there, and the trick began to howl so loudly that finally he felt forced to cover his mouth with a pillow in order to stifle the noise of his pleasure.
"You like that, lover?" Donna said.
"Oh, geez...."
He continued to rock his hips from side-to-side, the muscles in his buttocks beginning to twitch and jerk, and then they seemed to explode, pushing his entire pelvic area upward, higher and ever-higher, in a blind and frantic sort of search for the hot and moist cave that was Donna's mouth. Again and again those muscles exploded, straining with all the power at their command, frantic with need and desperate with desire ... and all the while the golden-one kept the target just beyond its reach, continuing to blow those torturous puffs of cooling wet air against the agony that was his little fleshy twig. Suddenly, he screamed ... and then he began to pound his fists against the pillow.
"Suck me," he screamed. "Enough of this teasing stuff, blondie. C'mon, suck me ... suck me, you bitch. Do it ... do it now...."
The honey-blonde lowered her head as if she were obeying the trick's command, but then, with her lips all but touching the screaming head of his manhood, she jerked the finger which had been tracing the little circles around his anus up into that dark hole and the trick let loose with a blood-chilling sort of scream and drove his penis up into her waiting mouth. He filled each of his hands with a patch of her long, golden hair and then held them tightly while he worked the entire length of his twig of angry flesh up into the soft and liquid world of her hungry mouth.
"Suck me, blondie ... suck me, suck me...."
Donna began to flick the edge of her tongue all over the shank of his penis, pausing every now and again to draw her lips tightly around the base of that hard and angry twig ... and then to slide those vibrantly alive and fleshy forms on up to its head and then down to the base again, and again and again and again.
"Oh, blondie ... yeah ... oh, yeah...."
She began to increase the frequency of that bit of hard, sliding action with her mouth, little animal-like noises gurgling in her throat. She stopped for a rather long moment at the uppermost part of each stroke so that she might swirl her hot, hot tongue crazily over the face of that pulsing hunk of angry, purple flesh she held captive in her mouth ... and the trick seemed to be beside himself with the wild and awesome passion he was experiencing at the moment.
"Hey ... oh ... geez, geez ... is that ever good, blondie," he cried. "What a mouth you have ... that tongue, those lips ... oh, geez ... geez, oh, man...."
The trick howled and wheezed, his toes snapping wildly, and his entire body seemed to ripple, the enormous layers of fat vibrating like jelly ... and the golden-one pulled out all the stops as she fought to bring the trick to a climax.
"Stop," the trick cried, but the honey-blonde didn't .seem to hear him. "Stop, stop, stop," he commanded, frantically, and then began to push Donna's head away from his manhood ... and as the twig of tortured flesh slipped from between her lips she stared up at him in hard and angry confusion.
He was right there, she told herself, at that beautiful moment of universal truth, ready for a climax ... and then the lousy slob goes and pulls a stupid trick like this.
"What the hell?" she demanded, hotly.
"I ... I want to climb on top," he said.
"Are you crazy...?"
"No, I ... it's just that I like to work it in and out of a broad's mouth while I'm laying on top of her," he said. "Boy, I ... I really get off like that. I cum like ... I cum like crazy, you know?"
"You've flipped your wig," Donna snarled.
"No ... no, I haven't...."
"You'll crush me!"
"No ... really," the trick said. "I'll be real careful, blondie. Real careful...."
"Nuts...."
"I have to have it that way, bitch," the trick said, a hard and uneasy sort of edge creeping into his voice. "I mean, I'm shelling out a hundred and fifty fish for this ... and I want it like I said, on top."
"Look, blubber gut," Donna snapped, "there ain't no way in hell I'm going to let you lay on my face. None. No way ... and that's final. It ain't going to happen...."
"Oh, yeah...?"
"You heard me...."
"You want more money?" the trick said, bitterly. "That's it, isn't it? Okay ... okay ... how much? Another fifty? Will that do it?"
"I don't want any more money...."
"What then?"
"Look, get it through that fat head of yours, mister ... I don't want you to crush me," Donna snapped. "I agreed to suck you off ... and I will, I will. But the rest of this nonsense: no way! You hear me? No way ... no bloody way! I mean it, buster...."
"That's your last word, huh? I'll make it a hundred!"
"Not for a thousand...."
The trick rolled over on his side and worked his way up into a sitting position, wheezing all the while. He glared at Donna without speaking for the longest time, his nostrils flared and anger snapping away wildly in his eyes ... and then a tick began to pull at the corner of his mouth, contorting the lips there into a grotesque sort of leer. He began to drool and soon slobber covered his chin ... and then he reached out and grabbed a handful of the golden-one's long hair. He jerked her head back and then slapped her hard across the face with the palm of his free hand ... and Donna screamed as her vision blurred and her head seemed to be filled with a sudden and seemingly endless expanse of glowing stars is, they rocketed across a black, black sky.
"Now what do you have to say, bitch?"
"You creep," Donna screamed. "You lousy bastard...."
He slapped her again, much harder than the first time ... and Donna went limp as consciousness left her and she found herself floating out in space. It was cold there, freezing cold, and her skin seemed to turn blue and to fall off in thin layers. Far off in the distance, she heard the cry of a flock of angry scavenger birds ... and she seemed unable to breathe, as if a great and terrible weight had been placed on her chest. The sound of the birds grew closer and closer, but she was unable to see them.
The trick lowered her lifeless body to the bed.
"Hey, blondie ... hey, c'mon, I didn't hit you that hard, kid. C'mon, quit kidding...."
He bent his head down over her breast and listened for a heartbeat ... and, finding one, he smiled and sighed with relief. He placed a pillow under her head and was in the process of positioning himself so that his manhood was directly above her mouth and then there was a knock on the door.
"Go away," he bellowed.
"Donna," Valarie called from the other side of the door, "are you all right, kid? Hey, Donna ... it's me, Val, baby ... and I've brought some help with me."
"Please ... please ... go away," the trick cried in a thin, high-pitched whine. "She's all right. I ... I only ... she's all right. Go away."
Bob began to bang at the door with his shoulder, slamming up against the wood with all the strength at his command, and then the lock snapped and the door flew open. The trick was off the bed, trying to climb into his pants when Bob barged into the bedroom, his fists ready to fly ... but then he pulled up short, a look of disbelief in his eyes. "Bill, I...."
"Don't hurt me, Bob...."
"What the hell are you doing here, man?"
"She ... she lied to me, Bob," the trick said. "She said that I could do anything I wanted as long as I was willing to pay for it. She backed out. Bob ... she's nothing but a trap. Really. Bob ... she ... oh, Bob, you're not going to say anything to Mary, are you?"
"You pig...."
Valarie had been right behind Bob when he entered the bedroom. She leaped across the room to where Donna lay sprawled out on the bed and threw herself on the golden-one's unconscious body and then covered her face with hot, hot kisses. Tears began to stream from the eyes of the dark-haired girl and she called out Donna's name over and over again, as if there were some sort of magical quality in the word, something that might force the breath of life back into her ... and then the honey-blonde's eyes began to flutter and after a long, terrifying moment of uncertainty they opened all the way.
"Yeah," Bob said, "but it's my fault that he's here. This lousy slob ... this pig ... this poor excuse for a human being is married to my sister, Mary."
"You're not going to tell your sister, are you, Bob?"
"Shut up, shut your pig face...."
"It's all your fault," the trick said. "Always talking about this ... this setup with the college girls. And she ain't hurt ... not really. I only hit her two times. Ask her if that ain't the truth ... two times because she tried to back out on the deal we made."
"You creep, you ... you...."
"I even offered her more money, Bob," the trick cried, terror shaking in his colorless eyes. "Ask her, ask her if I didn't offer her more money...."
Suddenly, Bob's sense of outrage was more than he was able to bear and he shoved the trick up against the wall and then drove a hard right hand up into that enormous gut, burying it all the way to the wrist. The trick began to double over in pain ... but Bob caught him with a wild left hook squarely on the chin and the fat man dropped to his knees like a load of bricks, a thin trickle of blood mixing with the slobber that ran down from one corner of his mouth. He covered his face with his hands and began to sob hysterically.
"Kill him," Valarie cried. "Kill the pig...."
"Don't," Donna cried. "Please, please ... don't...."
"Don't let them hurt me, lady," the trick whimpered.
"Shut up," Bob screamed. "Keep your slimy mouth closed or, I swear, Bill, I will kill you ... I'll rip you to pieces and feed you to the fish in the ocean."
"I think we ought to cut the bastard's balls off," Valarie spat. "He ... he's an animal, Donna."
The honey-blonde shook her head, tears spilling down her face. She managed to sit up with a little help from the dark-haired girl ... and then she swung her legs down over the edge of the bed and waited while the cobwebs within her head began to clear away. She stood up and began to walk on uncertain legs toward Bob ... and he reached out and slipped an arm around her waist to support her.
"Are you all right, kid?" Bob said. "I mean, did this ape ... did he ... oh, Donna, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do, anything at all...."
"Just let him go, Bob," Donna said. "He's such a miserable slob, and ... I ... just let him go...."
"He's an animal, a fucking animal...."
"Please, Bob, as a favor to me...."
"She means it," Valarie said, softly. "Turn the other cheek and all that crap. She's hopeless...."
The trick looked up at Bob, his eyes pleading for mercy ... and then suddenly Bob turned his head away from the fat man and helped Donna back to the bed.
"How much money do you have, Bill?" Bob demanded, his tone very quiet and controlled. "I don't know...."
"How much?"
"About three hundred bucks, I guess, but...."
"Take out ten for cab fare and leave the rest for this kid here," Bob said.
"But I only promised her one-fifty...."
"And if you say one more word ... just one, I'll beat you silly. Get dressed, Bill, and get the hell out of here ... and if I ever hear of you bothering one of these kids again, I swear, sister's husband or not, I'll kill you."
"I think we'd better get our friend to a doctor," Valarie said to Bob. "I don't like the way her eyes look...."
"And I don't like the shade of your lipstick," Donna said, and smiled. "I'm all right...."
"Look, kid," Bob said, "don't you think...."
"I'm all right, Bob...."
Bob looked at Valarie and shrugged in resignation. "Okay, but can I at least take the two of you out to dinner?"
"Why?" Donna said. "Because you feel responsible?"
"Because we happen to be friends," Bob snapped.
"In that case," Donna said, "we'll be glad to accept."
"Let's go...."
"Don't you think I ought to get dressed first?"
"I guess," Bob said, "but please ... don't take all afternoon about it, huh?"
Donna stuck her tongue out at him and began to slip into her bra. Bob started to laugh but then he looked at the man who was his brother-in-law and the laughter was stillborn.
"You won't say anything to Mary, Bob?"
"Get out of here, you pig," Bob screamed.
The trick placed a pile of bills on the dresser and then left the room. Valarie walked over to the dresser, picked up the money and began to count it. There was three hundred and twenty-seven dollars. She stuck the money in Donna's purse and then handed the purse to the honey-blonde.
* * *
The Beefeater's was one of the best restaurants in town but the food failed to serve the purpose Bob had hoped it would. He felt very, very guilty about what had happened to Donna. The three of them sat over an after-dinner cocktail, making polite conversation ... unwilling or perhaps unable to talk about the thing that had taken place at the Good Knight's.
It was Valarie who finally broke the ice.
"I ... I guess I'm going to have to do a much more ... thorough job of checking out new clients in the future," she said. "I mean, anyone could call up and use the name of some old client as a reference, and ... well, the next time we might not be so lucky. I mean, Donna could have been killed or seriously injured today...."
"I know," Bob said, and his words seemed to catch in his throat. "Boy, do I know...."
"And I might have been hit by a car as I was walking across the campus this morning, too," Donna said. "Really, I think you two are making much too much out of this whole bloody mess. It was a fluke...."
"No; the fact that it hadn't happened up until now ... that's the real fluke," Bob said. "Look, I'm certain that I'm the one who ... well, I'm responsible for the mess. Bill had to get Valarie's number from me ... somehow. I didn't give it to him, but he got it from me ... I'm certain of that. If a mush-brain like that could do it ... hell, anyone could do it. Don't you see that, Donna?"
The honey-blonde nodded.
"The solution is a fairly simple one," Valarie said. "In the future, starting right this minute, we don't accept any new business until the guy has been vouched for by an old client ... and I mean by the old client himself."
"That should help," Bob said, "but ... well, to tell you the truth, Val, I don't see it as a panacea. Look, let me kick the problem around for a day or two and see what I can come up with in terms of a better procedure for your operation."
"Kick away," Valarie said.
"Yeah; and now let's change the subject. Okay?" Donna said. "I mean, it's really starting to drag...."
Bob glanced down at his wristwatch. "I've got to be moving, anyway," he said. "My wife is expecting me at seven: a cocktail thing that she's had planned for a week."
"Your ... your wife!" Donna said. "I didn't know that you were married, Bob!"
Valarie looked even more surprised than Donna. "Hey; I didn't either," she said, "and ... well, I've known the guy for better than two years."
Bob shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. He lighted a cigarette, nodding his head gently, reflectively, as if he were utilizing the time to make some sort of decision.
"Marsha, my wife, was in a horrible automobile accident about three years ago ... nearly four years," he said. "She damn near died. Anyway, she ... she's been unable to ... there's no easy way to say this: she's unable to function sexually. So...."
"Oh, wow," Donna said.
"Is it a painful sort of thing?" Valarie said. "I mean, her condition, does ... does it...."
Bob tried very hard to smile ... and all but made it. "Look," he said, "my wife and I have been married for nearly twenty-two years ... and up until the time of her accident I never looked at another woman. Really. I ... I love her, more than I could ever hope to" be able to put into words, and the moment that she's physically able to express herself sexually once again ... well, I'm afraid that the two of you have lost a customer."
"I hope that day is soon," Donna said.
"Yeah, me, too," Valarie said.
"About Bill ... my brother-in-law," Bob said. "I'll get to the bottom of that and...."
"I'd really rather not talk about it," Valarie said, a soft tremor in her voice. "I need to ask you something, Bob. May I?"
"Sure...."
"Your wife ... does she know about you and my girls?"
"Of course," Bob said. "As a matter-of-fact, it was her idea in the first place. She's ... well, the phrase 'wonderful woman' comes reasonably close to describing her, but even that doesn't really give you the complete picture of that woman of mine."
"Do you have kids, Bob?" Donna said.
"Four ... three girls and a fifteen-year-old who looks like a male but hasn't quite made up his mind yet," Bob said as an easy sort of grin came to his face. "He's okay, I think, but ... well, if he doesn't get things worked out on his own pretty soon I'm going to let you kids break him in."
"I'll take on the job personally," Valarie said. "A kid's maiden voyage ought to be a groove. I've got a younger brother in pretty much the same position as your tongue and I've been trying to talk Goldielocks here into picking his cherry for him, but so far...."
Donna could feel herself begin to blush ... and both Bob and Valarie began to kid her about it.
"I'm so damn confused," she said.
"About what?" Bob said.
Donna shrugged but Valarie looked over at Bob and winked. "About sex," the dark-haired girl said. "You may find this hard to believe, Bob, but my star hooker has got some real hang-ups about sex. You know that old liberal saw about sexual expression being primarily a love thing? Well, old Donna here believes it...."
"Well, as an old liberal myself," Bob said, "I guess I'm another one who does, Donna...."
"But ... but...."
"Look, kid," Bob said, "there is sex and then there is Sex ... you know, with a capital 'S.' Damn few people ever learn the difference, but there is a difference ... one hell of a big difference. You may love to ball a person but that's not the same as balling a person you love...."
"Now I'm the one who's confused," Valarie said.
"Because of what I said?"
"Yeah...."
"I don't know how else I might explain it, Val," Bob said. "I'd be pretty upset if I found out my wife had balled some other guy, but ... believe me, I'd freak out if I found out that she was in love with some other guy, whether or not she had balled him. It's like one is an immediate thing ... the other is long term and maybe even permanent."
"It comes down to a question of possession," Valarie said.
"Naw," Bob said, "it's a question of loyalty...."
"What a crock...."
"I don't think it is," Donna said.
"Yeah; I should have known better than to get into an argument with two liberals. I was beaten even before I got started ... but that doesn't mean I accept the jive you two are handing out."
"Look, Val...."
"I thought you had a cocktail party or something to go to, Bob," Donna said. "I'm not trying to get rid of you, but ... well, your wife needs you."
"Right you are," Bob said, and stood up. "Listen kids, have another drink or whatever you want. I have an account here and...."
"Will you please get the hell out of here?" Valarie said, and smiled. "Go on, get ... move it ... scoot ... scram ... split...."
"I'll phone you kids tomorrow...."
"Oh, thank you, Daddy," Valarie said.
"Don't laugh," Bob said. "My oldest is only a year or so younger than the pair of you. Really...."
"Oh, Daddy," Valarie said, her voice suddenly rich and husky, dripping with sex. "Daddy ... honey, I hear that there is absolutely no cest like incest."
"Is that what you hear, huh?"
"And you know where they say incest begins, Daddy!"
"At home," Donna said.
"Maybe so," Bob replied, "but not at mine, it doesn't!"
* * *
Donna lay alone in the darkness of her room. It was only a few minutes past nine on that same evening but Valarie had insisted that she go to bed and get some rest. The events of the day kept racing through the honey-blonde's head. The things Bob had said about his wife ... about his views on the subject of sex-had made quite an impression on her. It was such a beautiful thing listening to him express his great and noble love for her. Basically, he was a one-woman man ... and yet there was no way to deny the beauty of the passion she had experienced with him. Maybe it wasn't love, but it was certainly more than a mere business arrangement.
The more I learn about sex and sexual expression, she said to herself, just before she dozed off, the more confused I seem to become.
She began to dream:
Once again she found herself back in the suite at the Good Knight's Inn. Outside the door there stretched a seemingly endless line of tricks ... and each of them was waiting to use her body. The golden one felt a strange sort of movement down in her vagina ... and then she felt her clitoris spring out from the lips of her vulva. It began to grow, savage and hard, and soon it was as big as a penis. Donna began to whimper ... and she curled the fingers of both of her hands around the shank of that awesome thing and tried unsuccessfully to stuff it back down into her cauldron. It continued to grow, glowing with an angry need ... and then it was as big as a baseball bat. Suddenly, Bill, the fat and brutal trick, appeared as if by magic on the bed next to her.
"I have what you've been looking for all your life," Donna said in a voice that sounded strangely like Valarie's. "Here it is, Billy-boy...."
The trick took one look at the thing that had once been the honey-blonde's clitoris and began to scream. "Get away," he said. "Get away...."
The thing between her legs suddenly grew a mouth and fangs and then it leaped out at the fat man, sinking its teeth deeply into the flesh of his thighs.
"Run," Donna cried. "Run away, fat man...."
"You can't run from reality," Bill said. "But this is a dream," Donna said. "But dreams are real...."
"No, no, no...."
"You really hate me!"
"No, I feel sorry for you...."
"But pity is an aspect of hate...."
"That's crazy...."
"I'm dying, Donna ... and you killed me."
"No ... no, I didn't...."
"All I wanted to do was screw you in the mouth.
Donna awoke with tears in her eyes ... and Valarie's arms wrapped tightly around her. "It's all right," the dark-haired girl said. "Hold me, Val. Hold me, hold me...."
CHAPTER FIVE
Nearly a week passed before Valarie finally agreed to send Donna out on a new assignment, and then only with the greatest sense of reluctance. The almond-eyed girl had wanted to be absolutely certain that the honey-blonde was completely recovered both emotionally and physically from her experience with the fat man ... and it wasn't until Donna had threatened to go out on the street and drum up a little business on her own that Valarie finally swung into action.
Lewis Ginsberg. M.D., and his wife, Naomi, lived in a huge, rambling ranch house on a two-hundredacre estate about twenty miles south of Cutter College. Donna was more than a little nervous as she left the cab and marched up to the front door of the home. She pressed the bell and after a moment, an extremely attractive woman with gray, almost white hair answered the door ... and the golden-one's heart. Valarie had said that the Ginsbergs were an older couple, but Donna expected to find someone in their late forties or early fifties ... and it was obvious that this woman who smiled up at her so pleasantly would never see sixty again. She was dressed in a smartly tailored pants-suit, and the pale blue material seemed to match her eyes perfectly-even down to the zestful sort of twinkling quality that appeared to radiate from them. "May I help you?"
"Well, I ... ah ... Mrs. Ginsberg?"
"Yes," the woman said. "Well ... Valarie sent me!"
"Oh, yes ... yes," the woman said. "You must be the party my son and his wife are expecting. They're out at the pool. Come, I'll show you how to get there."
The swimming pool turned out to be an Olympic sort of thing, set in the middle of a monstrously large patio made of flagstone and covered by a huge geodesic dome made of some sort of transparent plastic material. Four mercury vapor lamps bathed the area in a light very nearly as bright as day ... and it felt as warm as August under the dome.
A tall, svelte woman with black hair that hung down to her buttocks got up from a chaise lounge to greet Donna and the older woman. She was very dark, with huge, wide-set eyes, high, Oriental sort of cheekbones, a thin, aqualine nose, and full, moist, ripely pouty lips. She had on a pink bikini swimsuit ... and Donna decided that there were at least two things about her that were immediately obvious: (1) she wasn't yet forty years old, and (2) her breasts were full and firm and vibrant, beautifully cone-shaped and excitingly alive ... so alive that they seemed to leap out at the golden-one.
"You must be Donna," she said, and took the honeyblonde by the hand ... and Donna felt a shiver of excitement begin to race through her body. "Yes, I ... I...."
"I'm afraid that she thought that I was you," the older woman said with a sigh, and then smiled. "And I don't mind admitting at this very moment that I wish I were." She patted the golden-one lovingly on the behind and sighed again. "Oh, well ... have a good time, kids. I'm off to the wicked city. My sister, Gert, and I are going to take in the latest sexploitation flick at the Eros and then visit this all-night masseuse parlor Gert knows about. They're supposed to have a young French Canadian kid there with a tongue like velvet. I sure hope so because I'm so horny I'm about to explode. Tell Lewis I said goodbye, will you? See you...."
"Mother is really something else," the younger Mrs. Ginsberg said as she led the honey-blonde to the edge of the pool. "She's sixty-eight years old ... and she wasn't kidding about being horny. It seems to be a constant condition with her. Lewis's father died about five years ago and since then ... well, she's tried just about everything. Men her own age seem to have a problem getting it up ... at least as frequently as she wants and apparently needs, and she feels that the younger men she's taken up with were really only interested in her money. The poor thing! Anyway, she must have at least a dozen different mechanical things ... vibrating dildos and such, and I'm certain that the manager of every rub-and-suck joint within a fifty-mile radius of the old homestead here knows her on a first-name basis. Really, she must hit three or four of those places every month."
"Rub and suck...?"
"You know ... those masseuse parlors!"
"Oh...."
"Well, Mother is simply not the type to stay at home and sit in a rocker. She's ... well, she's really quite an amazing person. I mean, how many mothers do you know who would accept a bisexual as a daughter-in-law?"
"I ... I can't think of one," Donna said, and tried to laugh. "Wow, this ... well, this whole thing has really got my head spinning...."
"I suppose we do take a bit of getting use to," the woman said, and grinned. "Hey ... how about a drink? Lewis made up a batch of some vodka-based thing ... gimlet, I think it's called, and it's really quite nice. Delicious! And speaking of that husband of mine, I wonder where he's taken his skinny bod off to again? He was here a minute before you arrived. I ... listen, Donna ... why don't you pour yourself a drink while I go and see if I can round him up? The vodka stuff is in a pitcher ... or, if you prefer, there are soft drinks there as well. You should find ice and glasses and ... you know, all the things you're likely to need right there. Okay, Donna...?"
"I'm sorry, but ... where did you say all this stuff was at?" Donna said. "I ... I seemed to have missed that part of the conversation."
"You didn't miss it, Donna," the woman said, and chuckled, uneasily. "I didn't toss it. How stupid of me! You'll find everything over there," she said, and pointed. "See! On that round table there ... the white one, dear, with the big canopy over it?"
The woman was obviously quite anxious to get to the house ... and the honey-blonde felt a bit sheepish, out of her element and nervous.
"Take all the time you...." but before Donna was able to complete the thing she had wanted to say the woman was already on her way toward the house. The golden-one watched her as she went, fascinated by the free and rippling swing of the older woman's round, pert, meaty buttocks as they seemed to roll and twist beneath the wisp of pink material that ... well, that partially covered that part of her thin, softly curving anatomy. The honey-blonde began to squirm, the muscles within her vagina quivering ... and the aroma of her musk suddenly filled the air as the juices down within her fiery cauldron began to flow in anticipation of the session that lay ahead.
She was about halfway through with the drink she had made herself-half gimlet and half ginger ale, when the younger Mrs. Ginsberg returned. There was a look of quiet frustration on the older woman's face, quiet but intense.
"Business," she said with a weary sort of shrug, and then refilled Donna's glass and poured a gimlet for herself. "Some damn motel deal he's working on. I swear, Donna, it's really a drag having a husband in medicine, but when you throw in the fact that he's also a frustrated financial empire builder ... well, it really gets to be a ... I don't have the words to describe it. I hardly ever get to see him. I mean, I've been looking forward to tonight for days and ... well, there he is, glued to that damn phone. Say, how about climbing out of your things?"
"Huh....?"
"Your clothing, Donna," the woman said.
"Aren't we going to wait for...."
"Oh, sure ... certainly," the woman said, "but I thought we might take a little dip in the pool while we're waiting for him. He promised he'd only be another ten minutes or so, but ... well, his concept of time is lousy. Really lousy. He may be another hour. C'mon, I'd love to see what you look like in the ... the all-together, anyway. I've got a real thing about blondes and ... oh, my old puss feels like a bomb that is about to explode."
Donna looked up into the older woman's dark eyes. "I ... I know the feeling," she said.
"Yeah, I had the feeling that you did," the older woman said, the look of frustration easing from her face to be replaced by a ripe and sprawling glow of lust.
Donna stood up, her eyes searching around the area for a cabana or something ... a place where she might disrobe and then Mrs. Ginsberg began to wiggle her way out of her bikini. Donna shrugged-when in Rome, she said to herself-and began to fumble with the catch at the back of her dress.
"Here, I'll help you, dear...."
"Oh ... thank you, Mrs. Ginsberg. I...."
"The name is Naomi, Donna, and ... there," she said, a rich and fiery tremor of anticipation in her voice, as she finally succeeded in zipping down the dress. "And Lewis, if that rat-fink ever shows up, is Lewis ... not Doctor or Mister Ginsberg. All right...?"
"If that's the way you want it," Donna said, and began to wiggle her way teasingly out of her dress. She had to stifle a giggle as she heard Naomi gasp for air ... and then she unfastened her bra and freed her huge, pear-shaped breasts. The nipples there were already hard and pulsing, glowing angrily with a deep, ruby sort of redness, alive and screaming with need and desire.
"How ... how very beautiful you are," Naomi said.
"Thank you...."
There was another loud, crackling sort of gasp from the older woman as the golden-one slipped out of her half-slip and panties ... and then Naomi had her by the hand. She felt herself being pulled along the flagstone, being half-led and half-dragged to the edge of the swimming pool.
"You do swim, don't you, Donna?"
"Oh ... oh, sure," Donna replied, and then she found herself falling through space ... and the water of the pool seemed to rush up to greet her, and soon her entire body was enveloped in the cooling wetness. Her toes touched the bottom of the pool and she kicked off, sending her body upward ... and then her head broke the surface of the water and she stopped there, treading water as she tried to catch her breath.
"Naomi...?"
"Here I am, Donna. Behind you...."
The older woman eased her way up behind the honey-blonde and wrapped her arms around her waist ... and Donna had to fight to keep her balance. It was a fight she seemed to enjoy waging, however, and she soon found herself responding wildly to the touch of Naomi's hands as they began to explore every nook and cranny of her body.
"Oh, Naomi...." "Yes, I know ... oh, Donna ... baby...."
"Your touch, it's so wonderful," Donna said. "Really, like nothing I've ever experienced before. I love it ... I really love it!"
"The pleasure is really mine," Naomi said. "Your body, it's so ... so golden...."
She freed one of her hands and cupped it over one of Donna's huge, throbbing breasts ... and after a while she began to knead the nipple there between her thumb and forefinger. That bit of hard, angry flesh soon began to swell, screaming with joy and threatening to explode. The honey blonde felt as if her head was spinning like a top ... and she found herself experiencing a strange and most delightful sort of sensation-produced by the hard and pulsing nipples of Naomi's breasts as they pressed ever-so-lightly against Donna's back, turning the flesh there to a mass of rippling goose flesh. The golden-one began to moan ... and the older woman began to moan, too, and Donna was just about to turn around and face her tormentor when....
"Hey," cried a rich and cultured male voice, "did the two of you decide to start without me?"
Donna looked up at the naked body of Lewis Ginsberg, a painfully thin, almost ethereal man in his middle forties with a wild shock of long, unkept, wiry hair. He had big ears which protruded from the sides of his head like the handles on a jug, a long, hooked nose, and the sad, dark eyes of a beagle ... but there was a wide and infectious sort of smile on his lips, a radiant thing that very quickly made one forget all about his homeliness. Donna was unable to take her eyes off his manhood. It dangled heavily between his thin, deeply bowed legs ... its huge, bulbous head ending a mere scant inch or so from the top of his bony knees.
"Darling," Naomi said with a loud and obviously affected sigh of frustration, "has anyone ever told you that your sense of timing is not always what it might be?"
"Why, I believe I've heard you mention that little flaw in my character a time or two, my dear," he said, an undercurrent of mirth in his voice. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, on some rather rare occasions, I've even heard you say that my sense of timing ... how was it you put it? The phrasing was so perfect! Oh, yes ... you said my timing sucks!"
"And this is one of those times...."
"So good of you to say so, my dear ... and now would you be so kind as to introduce me to this bit of golden fluff you were, I believe, in the process of seducing when I so rudely and thoughtlessly interrupted you, oh sweet and noble, wonderful light of my life?"
"Would it do me any good to say no?"
"My head might be put off by your words, noble lady, but this ... this," he said and began to twirl his manhood around and around in his hand, " ... this hunk of meaty flesh will not be so easily stayed, I'm afraid. Once awakened, it refuses to submit itself to my will...."
"You're trying to tell me that it has a head of its own, my darling?"
"Oh, God, Naomi," the man said, "that was terrible!"
"Not even an V for effort?"
"You'll get nothing ... nothing ... not until I've learned the name of this lovely plaything!"
"Okay ... this is Donna. Donna, that stick of would-be comic-relief is my husband, Lewis...."
"Hi," Donna said.
"At your service, my lady," the good doctor said, and then bowed deeply from the waist, doffing an imaginary hat high above his head. "Would you prefer that I join the two of you there in the water or ... or are we going to do the sensible thing and move this circus to surroundings more in keeping with the festive nature of this get-together. That is to say, why in the name of blue blazes don't we use the playground? Isn't that why we had it built?"
"Playground?" Donna said.
"Oh, yes," Naomi said. "You've really got to see it. Besides, Lewis can't swim a stroke ... and he just might end up drowning all three of us if we were to remain here."
"Let's go," Donna said.
* * *
The playground turned out to be a huge room in the basement of the house. A twelve feet by twelve feet water bed was set right in the middle of the room ... and the walls and ceiling were covered with mirrors.
"The john is in there," Naomi said, and jerked her thumb toward a narrow, mirror-covered door at the far end of the room. "Just in case you ... you know, before we get down to some serious lovemaking."
Donna managed to shake her head, no.
"Well, in that case, my dear," Lewis said as he curled the fingers of one of his hands around the shank of his manhood, "what say you nibble on this for a while?"
The honey-blonde watched in delicious fascination as the older woman dropped to her knees in front of her husband and then began to rub her face up against his suddenly erect and pulsing penis, purring away like a kitten. Naomi planted a wet and slurpy sort of kiss on the head of that monster and then drew a rather sizable hunk of it up into her mouth and began to suck away merrily at it.
"Oh," Lewis cried. "Oh, lover...."
The scene soon had Donna's vagina dripping with a moist and gooey sense of expectation. It seemed to her that the older woman really loved having her husband's tool in her mouth. There was a look of pure ecstasy on Naomi's face ... and the male member of the trio seemed to be in some sort of rapture. He stood with his eyes closed, his back arched and his hands balled into fists and pressed firmly into his hips.
"Hey, what about me?" Donna cried.
"Yes, I think it's time we moved the action to the bed," Lewis said, and opened his eyes. "But, oh, lover, how good that mouth of yours feels...."
Naomi didn't move, at least not for a very, very long ten seconds. She had a strange, impish sort of look on her face, as if she were reluctant to give up her little plaything ... but finally she allowed that hunk of tortured meat to slip from between her lips. She looked up into her husband's face, her bottom lip stuck out and trembling in a cartoon of a little-girl pout.
Lewis let out a scream like a banshee and then dove onto the water bed. The women dove right in after him ... and it was the longest time before the rolling water under them settled down enough for them to do much more than giggle and laugh and explore one another's bodies with their hands.
It was Donna who made the first definitive move.
She crawled over to Lewis and settled herself down into the pie-wedge shape of open bed that lay between his outstretched legs. She lowered her face down slowly against his manhood ... and immediately that roll of hard and angry flesh began to flutter and jerk. An evil little grin settled on the honeyblonde's face and then she flicked her tongue out and began to run the tip of it all around and around the swollen sac of purplish-brown flesh which contained the agony that was his convulsing testicles. The man responded as if someone had dropped a sparkling electrical wire down into his lap. He began to squirm, squealing ... and after a moment he began to cry out in joy as his buttocks began to twist and roll.
"Oh, Donna ... oh ... how beautiful...."
Naomi decided that it was time for her to join the action. She, too, buried her head down in between her husband's legs ... and she and the honey-blonde were soon in the process of making a nameless little game of their pleasant task, each one trying to outdo the other in what Lewis quickly decided had to be the greatest bit of oral stimulation he had ever experienced.
The women had strangely different styles.
While Donna kissed and nibbled and licked away wildly at the shank of the man's tortured penis, Naomi merely parted her lips a bit and drew a patch of the skin covering his testicles up into her mouth and began to suck away at it tenderly, lovingly, her lips and tongue working away loudly in a wild and beautiful sort of rhythm.
Donna licked her way up to the top of that hard and meaty shaft and then opened her lips and drew the head of that angry monster up into her mouth ... and then she began to run the flat of her tongue against the face of that tool, utilizing a twisting, rolling sort of stroke, pausing every now and again to dig the tip of her tongue down into the tiny hole there in the center of the face.
"Oh, Donna ... Naomi ... oh...."
Lewis groped blindly in the air with one of his hands until at last he made contact with feminine flesh. It was his wife's full, cone-shaped breast ... and immediately he began to play with the nipple there, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until he felt it spark with fire and begin to quake, like a volcano that was about to erupt.
He filled the fingers of his free hand with the soft and pliant meat of Donna's buttocks, and then began to knead the flesh there into an angry sort of tenderness ... and all the while the women continued with the production of the fiercely strange and wonderful miracle that was beginning to take place there between his outstretched legs.
"Oh, Naomi," he cried. "Oh, Donna...."
Donna began to moan, deeply within her throat, as spunk began to seep from the lips of her vulva. It rolled down her inner thighs, collecting in thick and heavy layers of hot and syrupy goo. Naomi experienced pretty much the same sort of thing ... and soon the air in the room was heavy with the aroma of their combined musk, their collective need and desire seemingly amplified, the whole somehow greater than the parts, screaming out in a wet and glistening sort of anguish.
"If you ladies would move those beautiful behinds up this way," Lewis said, his voice little more than a harsh and raspy whisper, "I just might be able to do something about the problem ... er, problems I sense seem to have developed down in your pussies."
Immediately, the women began to move their tailends up toward his mouth, squirming and wiggling, each one moving at a slow and careful pace ... Naomi on his right, Donna on his left. The good doctor really began to moan. It seemed to him that it was taking the women forever to get into position ... and the mere thought of sending his hot and heavy tongue corckscrewing up into their dripping vaginas had him panting in wild anticipation, like a big and shaggy dog fighting the summer heat. Finally, they were both at the end of their little journey ... and they had made the transfer without either of them missing so much as a single stroke of their lips and tongues against his rippling penis and screaming testicles. Lewis sent his tongue boldly up into Naomi's vagina and very quickly began to whip it around inside the quivering walls of her sizzling cauldron. He really seemed to savor the thick and heavy, melon-like sweetness of her spunk. His lips smacked away wildly, like a connoisseur sampling a rare and vintage wine ... and then the older woman began to roll her hips in undulation, sliding the tortured lips of her vulva rapidly back and forth, back and forth against his wet and fiery mouth.
He gave his wife's vagina a quick kiss in parting and then rolled his head over to Donna's side. The golden-one's whole body seemed to be screaming in anticipation of Lewis's tongue ... and the good doctor hesitated for a moment, enjoying her sense of torment, before he finally sent his wet invader darting on up into the hot and steaming cave of love that was her convulsing vagina. Donna, too, began to moan, her hips sliding slowly from side-to-side in a controlled sort of rhythm ... a rhythm designed to bring her quickly to the raw and naked edge of orgasm, and then she felt that thick and hard tormentor begin to withdraw from the mass of screaming flesh and muscle that was the inner walls of her vagina and a moment later she heard Naomi cry out in a fierce and sprawling sense of joyous rapture.
The little period of waiting each woman had to endure while Lewis was busy at the vagina of the other seemed to actually intensify their pleasure ... and soon their entire bodies seemed to be alive with need and desire, trembling with a wild and reckless sort of excitement, their moaning and crying like some strange sort of jungle music, heavy with the hard and throbbing rhythm of drums.
The good doctor felt altogether too close to climax, his toes snapped away crazily against one another-always a telltale sign that he was about to give up his load of thick and heavy love-juice-and lights began to flash wildly in his head.
"Oh, Donna ... Naomi," he cried. "Oh, I ... I...."
It seemed as if Donna read his mind, and-without a word of explanation being said, she allowed the head of his manhood to slip from between her lips. A little shudder of resignation rippled its way through her body and then she began to lick and nibble and kiss her way down the underside of his screaming tool ... down, down, down, onto his testicles, and then she parted her lips and took a chunk of that sac of sprawling agony up into her mouth and began to suck away at it. Naomi, too, continued to nibble and suck and lick away madly ... and an unspoken agreement was reached, each woman mapping out a part of his screaming scrotum that was her exclusive territory, roughly divided by the thick steam in the middle of the sac, where the other wasn't to touch.
"Oh, darlings," Lewis cried. "It's so wonderful. Oh, it ... it's really beautiful...."
"Wait a minute," Naomi said. "I ... well, I've got an idea I'd like to try out. Is it okay with the two of you if I sort of act as director of this production for a while?"
"Let's hear the idea first," Lewis said.
Donna raised her head, looked down into the glazed eyes of the good doctor and then winked, impishly ... and Lewis shrugged, affecting a sense of helplessness, of having been overwhelmed by some sort of female conspiracy, that he didn't really feel.
"I can't fight the both of you," he said.
"Okay, Donna," Naomi said, "what I want you to do is sit down on Lewis's penis ... you know, sort of take it up into your dripping love hole."
The honey-blonde got up on her knees, worked her way into a kneeling position above the man's hips and then started to settle herself down easily onto his pelvic area ... but Naomi began to shake her head and Donna pulled up short, the wet and pulsing lips of her vagina less than an inch away from the head of Lewis's bobbing manhood.
"What's wrong...?"
"I think ... yeah, that's it ... I need you facing the other way, Donna," the older woman said. "You know, so that you and my sweet hubby are both facing up at me ... with your tail sort of resting on his belly and ... yeah, yeah ... that's the way I want you!"
Donna made a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and once again began to lower her vagina down over that staff of hard and agonized meat that was Lewis's penis. It took a bit of doing, but after a while she was able to fit all of his monstrous tool up into her fiery cauldron ... and then she just sort of leaned backward, slow and easy, until she was able to tuck the top of her head up under the good doctor's bony chin.
Lewis slipped one of his hands up under her arm and cupped the fingers of that hand over one of her quivering breasts, catching the nipple there between his thumb and forefinger in the process. Donna sighed, marveling at the intensity of the pleasure she was experiencing at the moment. She shuddered and sort of twisted her head to one side ... and Lewis immediately kissed her ear, whispering that the golden-one had a beautifully tight vagina, and then he sent his tongue corkscrewing down into her ear. Donna cried out with a sense of joy that was awesome, almost frightening in intensity and range.
Naomi looked down at her handiwork and smiled with satisfaction ... and then she slowly lowered her lips and tongue down into the place where Lewis's manhood was beginning to slide easily in and out, in and out of the golden-one's wet and fluttering cave of love. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth, crackling with energy, and then she began to slide the tip of it slowly over that mass of hard and swollen flesh that contained her husband's stones.
"Oh, Naomi...."
The good doctor's testicles were dripping with saliva before Naomi moved the attention of her busily working lips and tongue on up to the half-inch of his manhood that wasn't stuffed down inside Donna's bubbling cauldron. She lapped away crazily at that bit of root for the longest time ... and then she began to ease the tip of her pink invader upwards, up, up, traveling at a snail pace along the goo-flooded lips of the honey-blonde's vulva. She began to root under the thick folds of puffy flesh at the top of the entrance to the golden-one's cave, hunting for the tiny mountain of explosive pink flesh she knew she would find there ... and even Lewis was able to pinpoint the exact moment the older woman's tongue found its target, for Donna began to squirm and bounce about wildly and the muscles within her vagina drew incredibly tight around that part of his tortured meat which lay happily captive within that wet and trembling prison.
"Naomi ... Naomi," the honey-blonde cried. "Oh, it's so nice ... so heavenly wonderful, lover. Oh, yes ... suck on my clit, lover. Suck ... suck ... pull it out by the root, Naomi, only please don't stop. Don't ever stop. Oh, it feels so ... so ... oh, lover...."
"Fantastic," Lewis moaned.
Donna cupped her hands around the older woman's head and gently drew her lips and tongue tighter and tighter against the raw and fiery mass of syrupy flesh formed by the union of her vagina with Lewis's penis Naomi eased her fingers around her husband's testicles and began to play with them, squeezing them gently, lovingly, as her lips and tongue continued to lick and tug at Donna's clitoris. The action of the older woman's mouth seemed to have transformed the honey-blonde's bubbling cauldron into a great and powerful sucking machine ... and the muscles within that dark and sticky world moved like some wild thing: tugging, rolling, rubbing, sliding and swirling against the hard and angry hunk of meat that was the good doctor's convulsing manhood.
"Oh. I'm so close ... so close," Donna cried.
She was there, on the thin, razor edge of a great and sprawling orgasm ... and Lewis could feel it take life in the very tips of her toes as they began to wiggle and snap. It seemed to shoot up the insides of her legs, crackling like a series of lightning bolts ... and then it thundered into her thighs, setting the flesh there to quivering, and on into her buttocks, building up a final head of steam for the final wild rush to her vagina ... Donna sucked in a deep, deep breath of air, shuddering, and then she began to scream out her joy for all the world to hear.
"I ... oh, Lewis ... Naomi, I'm there ... I'm really there, lovers ... lovers, I'm ... oh ... oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming ... oh, sweet ... sweet mother of mercy, I ... I'm cumminggggggGGgggggGgggg...."
It was all that Lewis could do to hold her.
She thrashed about on top of him like some insane thing, her body rippling and jerking with spasms
... and then Lewis began to cry and scream as his manhood popped out of the golden-one's vagina and she was thrashing about so wildly that he was unable to get it back inside that wet and wonderful world of quivering flesh.
"Donna ... Naomi ... someone," he cried. "Oh, please ... oh, baby, Naomi ... do something. Please, please ... oh, lover, I'm in such pain. Really, it ... it ... oh, Naomi ... Naomi...."
The older woman seemed not to hear her husband's feverish plea, as if every last ounce of energy she possessed was being utilized to drain every last delicious drop of climax from the honey-blonde's clitoris.
His testicles screamed out in agony, growing louder and louder with each passing moment ... but neither of the women seemed to pay the least bit of attention to their frantic protest. The good doctor tried to move his hand into a position where he might curl his own fingers around the shank of his screaming manhood and bring himself to climax, but Donna was still thrashing about so wildly ... and her movements prevented his hand from reaching its target. The muscles within his belly began to convulse and knot, and after a while he was no longer able to fight back the tears which had welled up in his eyes.
"Donna ... Naomi," he cried. "Listen to me ... the pain ... oh, God, the pain...."
The last vestiges of Donna's orgasm finally worked their way up and out of her vagina and she felt limp, drained of every last drop of energy ... and it was the longest time before the spinning in her head slowed down enough so that she became aware of the anguish the man lying under her seemed to be suffering at the moment.
"What is it, Lewis?" she said.
"I ... I didn't make it," he cried. "And ... oh, the pain, Donna. Please, please ... help me!"
The golden-one worked herself up into a sitting position, and she began to scoot her rump back onto the doctor's chest ... and she was just about to lower her head and take his screaming manhood up into her mouth when Naomi stopped her.
"Wait ... wait," the older woman cried. "There's something else I'd like to try! Another idea ... and I'm certain that Lewis will love this one...."
"Naomi," Lewis said in a harsh whisper of raspy pain, "I ... oh, damn, woman, you have no idea how much pain I am in at the moment. Please, please ... let me dump this load I'm carrying into some hole ... any old thing will do, and then we can talk about ... whatever it is you want to try at the moment!"
"Don't be silly, Lewis," Naomi said, and sprawled out on her back, next to her husband. "This idea is perfect for the situation we find ourselves in right now."
Lewis groaned, trembling with an awesome sense of pain and frustration.
"I want you to sit on my belly, darling," the older woman said. "All you need do, oh love of my life, is lay that beautiful tool of yours down in the valley between my breasts ... and then mother-Naomi is going to get rid of her little boy's nasty-wasty pain for him...."
Lewis knelt down over his wife's belly, assuming a position where his knees could carry most of the weight of his body, with the head of his penis nestled right in the middle of the twin, darkly capped mountain peaks that were his wife's firm and ripely proud breasts.
"Isn't that nice?" Naomi said.
Lewis managed to nod his head, his face twisted up in response to the great and horrible pain that whipped away at his thin, frail body.
"Please, lover," he cried. "Make me cum...."
Naomi balled her hands into fists, pressed those fists into the outer sides of her breasts, enveloping her husband's manhood in the soft and fluttering flesh of her mammaries ... and then she began to roll those fantastic things around his roll of agonized meat, creating a beautiful sort of friction as she rubbed and twisted and squeezed.
"Baby," Lewis cried. "Baby, baby...."
The flesh covering the older woman's breasts seemed to come alive, an awesome and beautiful monster, fluttering and vibrating against the hard, jerking agony that was her husband's penis. He raised up a bit on his knees, his hips beginning to roll easily from side-to-side ... and then he began to slide his tortured manhood back and forth, back and forth all along the long valley that lay soft and wet and warm between his wife's billowy glands.
"Oh, Naomi...."
Suddenly, the older woman pulled her fists away from the sides of her breasts and the soft and vibrating world that had held his penis so willingly captive no longer existed. Lewis's lips moved in the most frantic sort of way, but no intelligible sounds came from his mouth ... and then his wife dug the tips of her fingers into the stringy meat of his buttocks and began to urge his body forward. At first the good doctor seemed confused, unable to read her nonverbal communication, but then his eyes caught the action of her moist, pouty mouth as the lips there puckered and rolled, wordlessly pleading for contact with his hard and screaming manhood ... and then he raised up a bit more on his knees, filled each of his hand with a patch of her dark, dark hair and then eased the head of his hot and convulsing tool down into her hungry mouth.
Her lips began to make loud sucking noises, noises that were very quickly drowned out by the wild and frantic moaning of the doctor. He began to move, to ride high, recklessly in a harsh and wild sort of rhythm, thrusting just a bit more of his throbbing penis down into her mouth and throat with each new downward stroke of his rolling hips and grinding pelvis ... and after a while he had all of that great and pulsing monster down inside her mouth, the head buried deeply within her throat while the root was held captive by the firm and wetly wonderful pressure of her lips. His testicles slapped up against her chin rhythmically ... and there was something in their movement which seemed to hypnotize the honey-blonde. She watched them, fascinated by their wild and sprawling sort of churning, as Lewis began to pump his organ in and out of the older woman's mouth ... watched as he lifted his skinny tail up into the air and then shot his pelvis forward, again and again and again, and she knew in some inexplicable sort of way that each of them were hoping that he could hold back his climax for a very long time. She wanted more than anything to join them, to become a part of the great and beautiful thing that seemed to be taking place between them.
"Oh, Naomi ... darling," Lewis cried. "Oh, lover ... oh, what a wonderful mouth you have."
The good doctor seemed very nearly on the verge of tears.
Suddenly, he felt something warm and wet flick its way boldly across the puckering rim of his anus ... and he began to cry out in joy, needing to let the entire world know that he was engrossed in the experience of a lifetime. Donna had found a way to join the good doctor and his wife ... and the honey blonde wasted precious little time in sinking the tip of her tongue down into that dark and forbidden world.
"Oh, Donna," Lewis cried. "Naomi...." Drums began to pound away in his head, and he knew that he would be unable to hold back the eruption of his climax for much longer ... and then it was all academic as it began to roar up out of his testicles, paused for a moment that seemed to be several lifetimes long, and his seed began to thunder from the tiny eye in the face of his penis.
His head felt like a spinning top, whirling about at such a rapid pace that he was unable to maintain his upright position ... and he began to kneel over to one side, ending up sprawled out on his back, exhausted and totally spent.
"Oh, look at my Samson," Naomi said, and giggled. "He's all tuckered out. Poor, poor baby. All of his strength has been sucked out of him. Poor thing. I'm afraid that my sweet, ever-loving man can't handle the really heavy action any longer ... and what a sad, sad thing that is...."
Both women laughed, began to giggle.
"Aw, fuck off," Lewis said. "The both of you...."
"Such language," Naomi said. "And from a doctor, too!"
"Wow ... oh ... what a climax. The intensity ... wow. Really. I can't ever remember having that sort of wild and free-swinging ejaculation before."
"Neither can I," Naomi said. "It feels like I've got your juice running out of my ears. Say, how long has it been since you last got your rocks off, anyway, husband of mine? I mean...."
"It's been about six hours," the doctor said, "and you bloody-well know it, too...."
"Oh, that's right. I was there...."
"Yeah, I ... I hope so!"
"But I wasn't there this time, lovey!"
"Huh...?"
Naomi stuck out her lower lips in a cartoon of a pout. "Well, you came ... and Donna came," she said, "but no one seems to be the least bit interested in the fact that I'm still carrying around a loud of unspent love-juice that would flood the Grand Coolie Dam. Really, I'm hurting...."
He rolled himself up on one elbow, groaning with pain, and then he began to make his way feebly toward his wife ... but Donna beat him to it. A fierce sort of heat seemed to steam its way up from the older woman's cauldron, and the aroma of her need was rich and heavy, thickly delicious ... and the honey-blonde began to shudder in anticipation.
Donna sent her tongue corkscrewing down into that fiery cauldron, lapping away wildly, intent on bringing the older woman to a great and satisfying climax, and after a moment she seemed to have most of her face wedged down with the wet walls of that pulsing cavern ... mouth and nose and chin. Naomi's spunk began to rise up in foaming clouds, pushing its way out of the dark and trembling cave of love in huge, thick and syrupy layers.
"My clit," she screamed. "Oh, Donna ... lover ... get my clit. Suck on it, baby ... please ... oh, please ... suck, suck, suck ... oh, how I want to feel your lips and tongue against that thing...."
As Donna began to root at the top of the entrance to the older woman's vagina, Naomi filled each of her hands with a hank of golden hair ... and she began to tug and jerk on those hanks, using them as if they were reins to guide the lips and tongue of the younger woman to where she wanted them ... her clitoris. Her fingers seemed to tighten into a death grip around Donna's head as she attempted to drive more, more, more of that hard and throbbing little button of magic against the flat of the honey-blonde's tongue ... and the younger woman began to experience an awesome feeling of absolute power as she played with that convulsing bit of meat in her mouth, teasing the older woman until she began to roll her hips from side-to-side and grind her wet and gooey vagina hotly up against her partner's face. Suddenly, Donna drew the tasty morsel up into her mouth, pulling it in as deeply as it would go, and then-while the pressure of her lips held it firmly in place, she began to swirl the tip of her tongue across the tip of that magical little mound of convulsing flesh. Naomi responded with a flurry of movements, crying out her sense of pleasure in a voice that was deep and raspy ... and then the golden-one slipped one of her fingers down into the sopping wetness of the older woman's vagina and began to slide it in and out, in and out, in and out of that fluttering cave. Naomi began to thrash about wildly, twisting and rolling, flapping like a fish out of water ... and then the bed under them began to pitch and roll, the water sloughing around in great and sudsy waves.
"Oh, Donna ... Donna, I'm there," Naomi cried. "I'm cumming, lover ... I'm ... oh, God, am I ever cumming ... I'm cumming, I'm cumming...."
The muscles within the inner walls of the older woman's vagina twisted and knotted and then began to snap, and Naomi let out a wild and blood-chilling sort of scream as her hot and fiery load of love-juice began to thunder up out of her screaming cauldron, covering Donna's face with a thick and rich layer of the syrupy gunk.
"Oh, lover ... lover...."
"From the look on my wife's face," Lewis said, "I'd say that you do pretty good work, young lady. Yes sir, pretty good work...."
"Thank you, kind sir...."
Naomi groaned, her body alive and dripping with sweat. "I ... I swear," she said, "I ... oh, lord ... I haven't stopped cumming yet. Really, it's ... oh...." Her whole body continued to twitch and vibrate as a seemingly endless series of hard little after-climaxes rippled their way back and forth, back and forth across her quivering flesh.
"Oh, Donna...."
Lewis's manhood was erect again, bobbing about with a fiery sense of renewed interest. Donna crawled over to him and dangled her huge, proud breasts down over his face ... and waited. "It's supper time, Lewis," Naomi said, and giggled. "And you know what they say about milk being nature's most nearly perfect food!"
The good doctor parted his lips and prepared to draw one of those huge, pulsing nipples into his mouth. He felt his wife's cooling fingers being wrapped around the shank of his penis. He groaned and began to lift his head up so that he might capture one of those hard, pink cones with his lips when suddenly the door to the room burst open and a slender and wide-eyed little child rushed into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes, as the trio moved about frantically, trying to cover their nakedness from the eyes of the child. Naomi and Donna crawled under the sheet ... Lewis took one of the pillow cases and held it like a loincloth out in front of him.
"What ... what is it, darling?" Naomi said. "What are you doing down here? Where's Freda?"
"I woke up and Freda was sleeping," the child said in a whine. "I want to play, too." Her eyes seemed to settle on Donna ... and the honey-blonde could feel herself begin to blush. "What's your name, pretty lady?"
"I'm Donna. What's your name?"
"Anna Louise Ginsberg," she said. "I'm six...."
"My, aren't you pretty?"
"I got two teeth out...."
"I noticed," Donna said. "But they'll grow back!"
"Don't you think you ought to go back to bed, baby?" Lewis said, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "It's nowhere near getting-up time for little people, sweetheart!"
"I want to play with you and Mommy and the pretty lady," the little one said. "Please, Daddy...."
"I'm afraid that this is a game that only adults can play, baby," Lewis said. "Tell you what, I'll give you a horse-back ride to your room. Would you like that?"
"Can I have a glass of milk first?"
"Certainly...."
"And a cookie?"
"Yes...."
Lewis stood up, tied the pillowcase around his hips and then checked his reflection in the mirror. He shook his head, shrugged, and then picked up his daughter and placed her on his shoulders and carried her from the room.
"She's never done that before," Naomi said. "This room has always been off-limits to her. And ... I swear, I'm going to fire that lazy Freda. She's our live-in baby-sitter ... but she really doesn't do a hell of a lot of sitting. Mostly, she stays glued in front of the television set and ... oh, I hope that this doesn't mess with her head. With little Anna, I mean. I've heard that these sorts of things sometimes play real hellish roles in a kid's development."
"I don't think so," Donna said.
"You think, huh?"
"I remember walking in on my parents when I was just about Anna's age," Donna said, and smiled. "They reacted pretty much the way we did tonight, rushing around and trying to cover themselves and ... oh, boy...."
"Did you know what they were doing?"
"Not really," Donna said. "It was years before I realized what it was I walked in on ... and even then it didn't turn out to be some big, traumatic thing. In fact, I remembered feeling a weird sort of pride at that moment. I mean, it felt good to know my parents were into that sort of thing."
"The situations aren't exactly the same," Naomi said, "In that there were three of us in bed here, and ... well, I'm pretty screwed up sexually, and I sure as hell don't want my kid going through all the torture I did."
"I ... I'm pretty confused," Donna said. "How is it that you're ... what you said?"
"Screwed up sexually?"
"Yeah; I mean, it seems to me that you're one of the most sexually liberated people I've ever met. Your husband, too. Well, there seems to be so much love and understanding between the two of you."
"Donna, I ... I...."
"Oh, look ... I didn't mean to pry into something that's really none of my business," Donna said. "It's just that I've been going through some pretty heavy changes on my own in the area of sex and sexual activity. Most of the kids at Cutter are into a sex-for-the-sake-of-sex bag and ... well, until quite recently, I was absolutely certain that sex was primarily an expression of love. Now ... well, I'm not so certain about it. I really don't know what I believe anymore."
Naomi took Donna's hand in hers, turned it over and gently kissed the opened palm. "I ... I don't know if I can explain my situation to you, Donna," she said. "Most people who know about these trios believe that they're for Lewis ... but really they're for me. I'm the one who needs them. He's my husband and I love him with a sense of desperation that's more than a little scary at times, but I'm unable to relate to him sexually on a one-to-one basis. It's not Lewis, I'd be that way with any man. It's true. The only way I can get it on with him is to have a third person, a female, join the two of us. Weird, huh?"
"Oh, wow...."
"And I can't seem to find any root cause," Naomi said, miserably. "I mean, I wasn't raped by my father when I was ten or something like that ... you know, all the crap that's usually associated with my sort of problem. I was twenty-three when I lost my cherry ... and it didn't scar me for life. As a matter-of-fact, the guy was a skilled and patient lover, just filled to the brim with tenderness. There wasn't any real pain about it either ... there just wasn't anything. It was a blah, a zero ... an absolute nothing. Several years later I had an affair with a girl who had been my roommate at college ... and I was twenty-seven, and that was the first time in my life I ever had an orgasm. We were pretty happy, that roommate and I but the gay world really turned me off. It was so damn phony. Besides, I wanted a home and kids ... yeah, the whole middle-class bit. For nearly a year and a half after the thing with my old roommate I went to bed with just about any male who would have me ... and there must have been a hundred of them. It was all the same-nothing, one great big zero after another. And then I met Lewis ... and it took me all of about ten seconds to decide that he was the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Six weeks later we were married. I decided that I'd simply forget about sex ... at least in terms of any sort of pleasure for me. I'd let Lewis use my hole, as it were, but it didn't work out that way. That old roommate of mine came back into town ... and, well, we got it on. It felt so good, Donna, so ... so ... I don't know, so necessary, I guess. I mean, sexual involvement is a biological need in humans ... and to deny that need is against nature's plan. Anyway, my old roommate turned out to be but the first in a long series of homosexual affairs ... and then Lewis found out. God, but he was hurt. In fact, he tried to kill himself. We went to a head-shrinker and ... well, at least Lewis found out that I was very much in love with him and that the affairs had been the result of my need for sexual release. The shrink didn't seem to do us a whole lot of good ... and after a while we started experimenting with other things on our own. Finally, we hit upon the idea of involving a third person in our sexual activity and since that time everything has been cool, really great."
"So, I ... I'm here because my presence allows you and Lewis to express your love for one another," Donna said. "I mean, the sexual aspect of that love?"
"Right you are...."
"Boy, does that ever make me feel good!"
Both women had tears in their eyes. Donna took the older woman into her arms and held her tightly against her body. Naomi nestled her face against the lush softness of the golden-one's breasts and Donna began to stroke her long, black hair ... and they were still in that position when Lewis returned to the room about a half-hour later.
"She conned me into reading her a story before she would agree to go back to sleep," Lewis said, and climbed back onto the bed. "Now, let's see. Where were we at? Ah, yes, as I remember the situation, I was about to take one of Donna's little nipples into my mouth and...."
"I think we've had enough for tonight, Lewis," Naomi said. "I don't know ... I guess I've sort of lost the mood or something. You don't mind too terribly much, do you, darling?"
"Not at all...."
* * *
Dr. Ginsberg drove Donna back to her dorm. They sat in an awesome sort of silence most of the way. They were on the outskirts of Cutterville before either of them spoke.
"Valerie told my wife and I about the reason you ... why you're in the business," Lewis said, and slipped a legal size envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Naomi and I want to help and so ... well, here," he said, and handed her the envelope. "It's a little more than we agreed on ... and I want to thank you-I don't know how to say it-for allowing my wife and I to ... to...."
"Share my body?" Donna said.
"No," the good doctor said. "For allowing us to share our love with you. You're really quite an amazing person, young lady. Naomi told me about the conversation you two had while I was gone with Anna. She said that you were pretty confused about sex. Well, don't feel like you're the only one. I'm forty-seven ... and I'm still pretty damn confused about the subject myself. Sex I'm confused about, but good people I know something about ... and you're one of the best."
"You're pretty special yourself," Donna said, and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I ... I hope that you and your wife will have me out to your home again."
"You can bet on it...."
"As a guest, I mean," Donna said. "Somehow, the money thing seems to cheapen the beautiful ... whatever it is you call the thing that happened to the three of us."
"We ... we'll talk about it some other time, Donna," the doctor said. "But I think I know what you mean. There are truly some things that money can't buy."
* * *
It wasn't until after she had showered and climbed into her pajamas that Donna opened the envelope Dr. Ginsberg had given her. It contained three five-hundred-dollar bills. The golden-one looked at the money for the longest time and then she started to cry. She wished that Valarie had been in the room so that she could have someone with whom she could share her good fortune, but Valarie had left a note saying that she wouldn't be back until three in the morning and that Donna was to cover for her if anything came up. It was nearly midnight but she decided to call her father anyway.
"Guess what, Daddy," she said. "I just learned that I'm getting a government grant for next semester."
"How wonderful, baby...."
"I love you, Daddy...."
"Is anything wrong, sweetheart?"
"Oh, no ... nothing, Daddy," Donna said. "I guess I'm just feeling a little homesick. You haven't forgotten that I'll be home on Saturday, have you?"
"Fat chance," her father said. "Baby, I'm already counting the minutes. Saturday, you say?"
"Well, there's a chance I may get in late Friday night, but if I do I'll take a cab out to your place."
"Make sure you do ... take a cab," her father said. "I don't want you alone in this neighborhood at night...."
"You make it sound pretty horrible, Daddy...."
"It's fine ... for me!"
"I love you, Daddy...."
"I love you, too, sweetheart. Are ... are you certain that nothing's wrong, Donna?"
"Quite certain, Daddy...."
"Okay, see you on Saturday then...."
"Or just maybe late Friday night."
"Goodnight, sweetheart!"
"Goodnight, Daddy...."
CHAPTER SIX
It was nearly two in the morning when Donna's plane set down at Cleveland-Hopkins International. She took the rapid-transit train out to the Windermere station and then hailed a cab to take her to the Sutter Street address where her father now lived. The cab driver turned out to be an old and at one time intimate friend of the golden-one. His name was Lon McCall and he and Donna had gone to high school together. In fact, it was Lon who had finally convinced the honey-blonde to, as they said, "go all the way" ... picking her cherry some three weeks after her sixteenth birthday.
They recognized one another immediately.
He was such a virile-looking man, even more attractive than Donna remembered him ... and in less time than it takes to tell the juices down within her vagina began to flow, the muscles there quivering in happy anticipation. He was tall and muscular, built like a lumberjack, with carrot-colored hair that was stylishly long ... and even with the full, rather shaggy sort of mustache that now adorned his face he still reminded the golden-one of the All-American male, all freckled and vigorous and-well, clean. His eyes were large and green, reflecting a sort of boyish honesty that seemed to dominate his square, rather open sort of face. His nose was a bit pugged and the length of his hair now hid the fact that his ears were too big for the rest of his head, but his lips were full and moist and there was something about his huge, jutting sort of chin that the honey-blonde found extremely sensuous ... perhaps it was the deep cleft right in the middle of it.
"So, how long are you home for?" Lon said, as he eased the cab out onto Euclid Avenue.
"About a week," Donna replied.
"Any chance you might be able to spare a few hours some evening for an old beau?"
"Oh, I ... I might be able to work something out," the honey-blonde said, a slight tremor creeping into the tone of her voice. "Just what did you have in mind?"
"Oh ... just a movie and a bite to eat afterwards," Lon said. "You know ... just to talk about the old days. You aren't married or anything?"
"No." Donna replied. "Not even or anything...."
"The thing is, I ... well, I'm on a pretty tight schedule. I'm taking classes at state during the day, pushing this hack at night. Like tomorrow is really the only night I have open and ... well, I'm sure you already have other plans. I could maybe try to switch days off with one of the other guys but...."
"No need for that," Donna said. "It just so happens that I'm free tomorrow evening."
"Great," Lon said. "How about if I pick you up at-say, seven-thirty?"
"I'll be ready...."
Lon turned the cab north on Sutter Street and for the first time Donna took note of the dinginess of the neighborhood, of the quiet sense of despair and poverty that even the darkness of the hour was unable to conceal.
"Wow," she said. "I wasn't quite prepared for anything like this. It's ... really something, isn't it? I ... I'm going to have to do something about getting my father out of here."
"There are worse neighborhoods," Lon said. "You ought to see where I'm living. Nothing but junkies and hippies and dopers of every shade and stripe. Really, it's horrible-like finding yourself in some sort of bazooco nightmare you can't wake up from. My crib has been broken into and ripped off six times in the past two months. Fifteen-year-old kids are forever o.d.ing and ... about the only good thing that can be said about the place is that the rent is super-cheap. Sutter Street is a dream compared to my neighborhood."
"I guess you kind of forget what this town is like after you've been away for a time," Donna said. "It's ... well, it's like some old woman, riddled with disease and waiting for death."
"Oh, wow ... hey, it ain't all that bad," Lon said and tried to laugh. "I mean, the South side is still pretty nice in spots, around Goosetown and those places ... and once you get past Twenty-fifth Street on the West Side, things aren't so bad. Besides, what other city has a great river that periodically catches on fire?"
"None that I can think of," Donna said.
"Hey, homecomings are supposed to be happy sorts of affairs," Lon said. "Besides, you're only going to be here for a week. It's not as if you had to live here...."
"But my father does...."
Donna's head felt as if it were spinning ... and it was at that precise moment that she made a decision about a question that had been plaguing her ever since that night at the Ginsbergs' home, the night she had earned enough money to keep her at Cutter for her final semester.
She decided that she would remain as one of the girls in Valarie's stable, at least while she was still at Cutter. It was the only way she could get her father away from Sutter Street, away from all the pain and ugliness and deprivation that such places represented. She felt certain that she could find him a really nice little apartment out in the suburbs somewhere. Even if the rent were three hundred dollars a month ... well, she could earn that much and more on a weekend, and maybe that way she could repay at least a part of all that he had done for her. Besides, she said to herself, I'm really beginning to enjoy the variety of sexual experiences that working for Val opens for me and....
The words of her own thoughts hit her like a clap of thunder. Had she actually said them? Yes ... yes, she had said them, and what had happened to all her fine and noble-sounding words about sex being an expression of love?
Sweet mother of mercy....
She could almost hear Valarie, Sex needs no justification. It's a natural happenstance ... like breathing, and it needs no moral or philosophical underpinnings. It just is, that's all ... and those people who feel the need to wrap up the fact in pretty packages are merely frightened little worms, afraid to admit the reality of the sexual drive in human beings.
"Free love ... free love ... free love...."
"Oh, God," Donna said aloud
"What's that?" Lon said.
"Oh, nothing ... nothing," Donna said, embarrassed by her words. "I was just thinking out loud, I guess. This street, Cleveland ... my father...."
."Yeah; and here's the address you gave me," Lon said with a sigh as he eased the cab to the curb. "By the way, what apartment is your father in?"
"Ah ... one-oh-seven...."
"Hey, maybe I'd better walk you to the door!"
"Would you mind, Lon?" Donna said. "This place ... wow, it really has me freaked out."
"I can tell...."
He kissed her good night at the entrance to the building, a warm and tender sort of thing ... and suddenly a whole series of old and cherished memories began to flood their way through Donna's brain. She and Lon had such a wonderful relationship, filled with love and understanding and concern for one another ... as well as sexual fulfillment. Would the sexual thing have been so ... so good if it hadn't been for all the other aspects of their romance? Would it? Would it?
She watched as the cab moved slowly up the street, and then she turned and entered the ancient building, wrinkling her nose at the aroma which assaulted her, an aroma that was mostly bug-spray, partly urine stench, partly decaying-wood-and-mildewing-wallpaper, and partly something she was unable to identify ... an aroma she suspected might be unique to the inner city of Cleveland, Ohio, something awesome and more than a little frightening. She had to fight the urge to turn and run as she made her way slowly down the long, dimly lighted hallway to the door of apartment one-oh-seven. She rapped gently at the door, paused for a moment and then rapped again, a bit harder this time ... and then she heard a stirring within the apartment, the sound of someone coughing and wheezing.
"What do you want?" demanded a harsh, sleepy voice.
"Daddy, it's me ... Donna!"
"Oh, baby ... wait," her father said, and then there was the sound of locks being opened-three of them. "What time is it, anyway? I thought you were coming in tomorrow, in the afternoon. What...?" But then the door opened and the honey blonde fell into her father's waiting arms ... and neither of them were able to hold back the tears of joy they felt. "It's so good to have you home, Donna ... are you hungry, baby?"
Donna managed to shake her head as she followed her father into the room that served as kitchen, dining room and living room, all in an area about ten feet by twelve feet. She sat down at the table and watched as her father put a kettle of water on the stove for tea. Having tea was an old and honored ritual with them, going back as far as Donna was able to remember. They sat and drank tea and talked ... talked until nearly six in the morning. Donna even found the courage to broach the subject of moving her father to an apartment in the suburbs, but-of course, the old man wouldn't hear of it.
"I'm fine right here," he said.
"Yeah, with three locks on the door...."
"They were there when I moved in, sweetheart. Look, after you're out of school and secure in a good teaching position ... well, maybe then we can talk about moving."
"I'm too tired to argue with you tonight ... this morning, I mean," Donna said, "but don't think you've heard the last of this from me ... and I'm not kidding, Daddy. I mean what I say!"
"So do I, young lady ... and I wish you'd stop treating me like a six-year-old."
"Then quit acting like one...."
"Let's go to bed, huh?" the old man said with a smile.
"At least that's something we can agree on," Donna said, and yawned. "Where do you want me?"
The apartment had only one bedroom and Donna's father insisted that she take the bed in there while he stretched out on the sofa in the all-purpose front room. The golden-one knew that it was pointless to argue with him.
Donna lay in the center of the huge double bed, unable to drop off to sleep. The image of Lon McCall kept creeping into her mind ... and with the image came a rebirth of the twitching sensation down within her vagina. It grew wilder and wilder, more insisting, and finally she felt she had no choice but to allow her right hand to slide easily down her body to that wet and gooey cavern that lay hot and pulsing there in between her legs.
"Oh, Lon ... Lon...." she moaned.
She allowed the tip of her middle finger to work its way down under the heavy folds of flesh there at the top of the entrance to her vagina until it finally made contact with the little, pink button of hard and quivering need that was her clitoris. As she rubbed and stroked and played with that tiny mountain of hard and screaming flesh the image of Lon McCall became real ... and magically she was transported back in time, back to that day some three weeks after her sixteenth birthday when she and Lon were at the drive-in movie and....
"Oh, God, Donna," Lon said, unable to hold back the tears that had welled up in his eyes. "I ... I'm in such pain. Really, it ... it's like all the fires of hell are burning in my gut or something."
"I know ... oh, how I know, Lon," Donna said in a soft whisper of a voice. "Oh, lover, I ... I...."
"Geez, you must know how much I love you, baby!"
"And I love you, too, Lon...."
"But you're not willing to prove it," Lon said. "That really makes a lot of sense. Boy...."
"It's not that I don't want to, baby," Donna said, miserably. "Really, Lon. I mean, I'm so wet down there ... and it hurts me, too, but ... oh, I don't know; I guess I'm just scared, honey...."
"Scared of what?" Lon demanded.
"I ... I really don't know!"
"Geez...."
"I ... I could maybe play with it for you."
"Hey, broad ... I'm talking about love," Lon snapped. "Love ... you dig; not some cheap make-out session. Geez, I ... aw, Donna, I need you so much."
"Oh, Lon...."
"I've got a rubber," Lon said, "so you ain't going to get pregnant. Please, Donna ... please, please ... let me love you. Let me really love you in the way it was meant for a man to love a woman!"
"I ... I ... oh, Lon...."
"Please, Donna ... please, please...."
Donna never did say yes ... indeed, she never said anything at all, but she did stop struggling, and that was all the signal Lon needed.
He lifted her skirt up around her waist, breathing heavily and unable to control the tremor in his hands ... and then he began to tug away at the elastic at the top of her panties, struggling and groaning and sighing in frustration until at last the honey-blonde raised her hips a bit and he was able to work that piece of silky material down over her buttocks ... and down, down, pausing for a moment at her knees to inspect his handiwork, and then down, down to her ankles, and then over her feet. He held his trophy out in front of his face, a symbol of his new found sense of virility ... and then tossed it casually onto the front seat of the car. His whole body seemed to shiver with the most fevered sort of anticipation ... and even in the darkness the golden-one was able to see the fires blazing in his eyes.
"Oh ... oh, Donna," he groaned. "If you only knew how long I've waited for this moment."
"Please ... be gentle," Donna cried.
"I will ... oh, I ... I will."
His manhood bulging against the front of his denims thumping away crazily like a bomb that was about to explode, Lon lowered himself easily into the saddle and began to grind his groin up against the soft and meaty mound of flesh which stood sentinel over the golden-one's pelvis. His lips found hers and he drove his tongue deeply into her mouth ... and the honey-blonde began to tremble as she felt him ease his hand up under her sweater, inching along at a snail pace, and then the tips of his fingers settled down on the material of her bra and Donna began to cry out in rapturous joy as the nipple there sprang to life, swelling until it was as hard as steel and pulsing wildly with need.
"Oh, Donna...."
"Yes, lover ... yes...."
Somehow, she managed to work one of her hands around to her back so that she could unfasten the catch on her bra ... and Lon squealed with delight as he felt those huge, wonderfully proud, pear-shaped mountains of quivering flesh suddenly surge forward, free of their restraint, and then he quickly worked his hand up and under that bit of material and cupped his fingers over her nipple.
"Squeeze them, lover," Donna cried.
Lon began to roll the tad of hard and rippling flesh between his thumb and middle finger ... more than a little amazed at the surging sense of desire he found there, and after a while he rolled her sweater up over her breasts, pushed aside her bra and stared down at what he felt certain was the most beautiful work of art ever produced by man.
"Oh, Donna ... Donna...."
"Kiss them, Lon. Kiss my breasts ... take the nipples up into your mouth and suck on them."
The redheaded boy lowered his face against her breasts and planted a hesitant little kiss on each of her hard and angry little mountain peaks ... and then his tongue shot out of his mouth and he began to flick the tip of it against the crown of her nipples, first the right and then the left, moving back and forth, again and again and again, and all the while the deep and throaty sort of moan that came from the golden-one's lips grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. Lon began to lick and kiss and nibble his way down to her belly, pausing every few inches or so to draw a patch of her golden skin up into his mouth so that he could suck on it ... and Donna reached out and cupped her hands around his head as her lips began to roll gently from side-to-side in undulation.
"Is ... is it all right if I kiss it?" Lon said.
"Oh, yes, lover," Donna cried. "I ... I want you to kiss it. To stick your tongue down in there and ... and ... oh, Lon, lick it. Move your tongue all around down in there and ... and ... oh, baby ... lover."
"I ... I've never done it before," Lon said. "What are you scared of?"
"I ... I don't know, Donna."
"Please, Lon ... kiss it!"
"I don't want you to think I'm queer or something!"
"Oh, lover ... I won't," Donna cried, and tightened her grip on his head. "Really ... there's nothing queer about oral sex between a man and a woman. Honestly, I read it in this book about sex by a doctor."
"I ... I really want to do it."
"Then do it, Lon," Donna said.
"I don't think that I can...."
"Then let's just call this whole thing off," Donna said, unable to hide the anger she felt. "I mean, love is supposed to be something you share ... and if all you're interested in is a hole where you can dump your seed ... well, then you'd better find yourself another girl."
"I ... I'll do it...."
"Oh, sure ... sure, I do...."
"You understand, don't you, Lon?"
She guided his head down to her pelvic area and then she felt his warm and soft lips begin to move against the lips of her vulva, kissing them ... and then she felt the tip of his hard and moist tongue flick its way out of his mouth and begin to trace hot little circular paths up and down, up and down the length of that tortured mass of quivering flesh. She could feel the hot and syrupy goo from her vagina begin to seep its way out to the surface, mingling with the saliva from his mouth ... and then the tip of his tongue began to ease its way gently down inside that twisting and trembling mass of gooey flesh that was her bubbling witch's cauldron, and the honey-blonde began to shake and to cry out in the wildest sort of joy.
Suddenly, quite by accident, his invader made contact with her clitoris ... and the redhead immediately pulled his head back, confused and more than a little frightened by the way it seemed to leap out at him, like some sort of hungry jungle animal, like ... well, like a miniature penis.
Donna sensed his fear and she tightened her grip on his head, assuring him that everything was all right ... and then she began to thrust her vagina against his hot and wonderfully moist mouth, straining every muscle in her body in the most violent sort of effort-in an effort to get her little pink button of hot, pulsing flesh in contact with the beautiful pain that was his lips and tongue.
Lon began to relax a bit and after a while he stopped fighting her ... and then he drew that angry little morsel up into his mouth and began to roll the tip of his tongue hesitantly over the top of it, amazed and more than a little pleased with the awesome sense of fulfillment he seemed to be producing in Donna.
"Oh, Lon ... Lon, that's so good, lover," she cried. "So very, very good...."
The pressure of Donna's hands on his head grew so fierce that he was actually afraid that she might snap something in his neck, and then she began to wiggle about insanely on her buttocks, trembling like a volcano that was about to erupt, as her hips rolled wildly from side to side and she continued to thrust her pelvis higher and higher ... and all the time she seemed to be trying to force more, ever-more of that hot and jerking little thing up against his mouth. He locked his lips around the base of her clitoris, sucking it up as deeply into his mouth as it would go ... and then he really began to swirl his tongue across that tiny little cone, moving faster and faster until at last that hard and moist invader was flying like a vibrator and Donna was crying out at the top of her voice, screaming and groaning and shouting that she was there-right there, at that grand and glorious moment of ultimate truth.
"I ... I'm going to make it, lover," she cried. "Oh, Lon, I ... I'm really going to make it. Really, I ... oh ... oh, Lon ... lover ... I'm ... I'm cumming. I'm really cumming. I'm cumminggggggggggg...."
It was the longest time before Donna released her grip on Lon's head ... and then he sat upward, took a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his mouth. His lips felt raw and sore, as if they were puffed up to about twice their normal size.
"Is ... is it okay now?" he said.
"Is what okay?" Donna said, dreamily.
"Is it okay if ... if I park it now?"
"Oh, yes ... yes," Donna said. "I want it ... really, Lon. Oh, I want to feel you inside me, lover ... feel your penis moving hotly inside my vagina."
Lon began to groan ... and Donna watched in fascination as Lon zipped down the fly on his denims and freed his tortured manhood. It looked as big as a baseball bat to the honey-blonde and the way it bounced and bobbed and danced in the wildest sort of way sent shivers of anticipation surging through her body.
The redhead dug a package about the size of a matchbook from his shirt pocket and unwrapped it ... and Donna very nearly giggled as he took the gray-colored prophylactic in his hand and began to roll it over the head of his hard and angry penis. It looked to her for all the world like a miniature robber with his face hidden beneath a nylon stocking ... and then the redheaded youth began to lean forward and suddenly the honey-blonde felt afraid. She had to fight the urge to shove him away ... and she kept reminding herself to relax, to let it happen. Lon's lips found hers and his kiss was so warm and gentle, so wonderfully tender that it began to sweep away her fear ... and then she felt the head of his manhood, inches below its target, pressing up against the trembling flesh of her inner thighs, first the right and then the left.
"You're too low," she said.
"Help me, Donna, help me," Lon pleaded. "Oh, God, I ... please ... please, Donna, help me."
"How...?"
"Lead it in...."
"Oh, I ... well, all right," she said and sent one of her hands down between the crush of their bodies. "Hurry, Donna...."
She curled her fingers around the shank of his penis, enjoying the feel of it for a long, long moment
... and then she began to guide the head of that hunk of hard and angry meat to its target. It touched the lips of her vulva and once again she felt herself tightening up ... and it took every drop of control at her command to relax the muscles there so that Lon could ease his convulsing tool down into the hot and dripping world of her cauldron. There was a moment of pain, brief and fleeting pain that soon gave way to the most delicious sort of sensation she had ever in her life experienced ... and then he began to slide that thing in and out, in and out, moving slowly, mindful of his promise to respond to his pumping action, moving her hips from side-to-side in undulation ... and then she began to thrust her pelvis upward to meet the downward stroke of his manhood. "Oh, Donna...."
"Yes, lover ... yes...."
The muscles within her vagina began to tighten around the shank of his invader, caressing it ... and Lon began to cry out so loudly that Donna was afraid that everyone in the drive-in would hear him. She was crying out, too, however, and after a while she was so lost in the magic of the moment that she felt beyond such mundane things as worrying about who might hear them. She felt as if she were sailing out in space somewhere, lost in a timeless world that was only big enough for she and Lon and the great love they shared.
"I love you, Lon," she cried.
"Oh ... and I love you, Donna. Oh ... it's better than anything I ever imagined. It's ... it's so close, Donna ... so close, and I don't want it to end. Not yet, yet, not ... not yet. Oh, Donna ... I ... I can't hold it back any longer. I'm going to cum, baby. I ... oh, I'm cumming. I'm cumming. I'm cumming...."
Lon's whole body began to convulse. He buried his penis as deeply into Donna's vagina as it would go ... and the muscles within that screaming cauldron seemed to curl themselves around that hunk of agonized meat, milking every last drop of love-juice his body had to offer at that moment. His body suddenly went limp and then he began to sob ... and the honey-blonde held him tightly in her arms, rocking him gently back and forth until his breathing became regular. He pushed himself away from her and then sat down on the seat, slowly shaking his head from side-to-side ... as if he were unable to believe that he was no longer a virgin.
"Let's get married," he said.
"What...?"
"I think we ought to get married."
"You mean ... like now?"
"Right now...."
"Lon, that's crazy," Donna said. "We're only freshmen in high school."
"We could take off ... we're old enough to be legally married in some of those Southern states," Lon said. "West Virginia or Tennessee or something."
"But why?"
"We love each other, don't we?"
"Of course, Lon, but...."
"Donna, listen...."
"Yes...."
"The ... the damn rubber broke," he said, and once again began to sob. Oh, wow ... geez, I'm so sorry, Donna ... really, I am. I never used one before and I ... it broke. We've got to get married."
"But we don't even know if I'm pregnant or not. Can't we wait to see whether or not I have my next period?"
"I ... I don't know," Lon said, and slipped the spent and ragged prophylactic from his penis. He looked at it for the longest time ... and then he rolled down the window and threw the gooey mess out onto the ground.
"That's bright," Donna said, unable to hide the anger she felt ripping away at her body.
"Oh, wow ... I guess I just wasn't thinking, Donna," he said. "Really, I ... I don't think anyone could have seen what it was anyway."
"Yeah," she said with a sigh, "I guess I did overreact a bit."
"It was wonderful, wasn't it?"
"Beautiful. . , ."
The climax Donna received through masturbation was usually a pretty pale sort of a thing, but for some reason-perhaps it was the result of her reverie about Lon-this time turned out to be a great and awesome exception to the rule. It seemed to take birth in the very tips of her toes, a wild and sprawling sort of orgasm that seemed to reach monumental proportions by the time it came thundering up out of her convulsing vagina. It seemed to take forever to work its way completely from her body ... but after that it took her all of ten seconds to fall soundly and deeply asleep.
She dreamt of Lon ... of Valarie and Bob, and of the Ginsbergs ... and all of them were together on the huge water bed at the Ginsbergs' home. It was such a beautiful sort of thing, all the people she loved together in the same place at the same time ... all of them proudly naked, fearless in their expression of love.
"I love you all," Donna said.
Suddenly, the fat man appeared in the room ... and he was holding a gun as big as a cannon in his hand. He aimed it at Donna, laughing like a madman, and then began to pull the trigger. The explosion sent the honey-blonde flying out into space. It was bitter cold out there and her skin began to burn blue ... and then it began to peel and fall away in huge sheets. A flock of horrible green scavenger birds began to eat the airborne sheets of flesh and Donna knew somehow that the birds were really another manifestation of the fat man ... and she knew, too, that she was condemned to soar about for the rest of eternity in that cruel and dark and icy place. It was her punishment for ... for what?
"What have I done?" she cried.
But only the screams of the scavenger birds seemed to answer her ... and then far off in the distance, she saw a bright light, a golden, shimmering ball of light. The ball seemed to warm her ... and after a while her flesh stopped peeling away.
"Donna," called a gentle voice. "Donna, Donna.
"Help me, help me...."
"C'mon, Donna," said the voice. "It's time...."
"Time for what?"
"To get up, sweetheart...."
Donna felt something touch her shoulder, something that seemed to radiate love ... and then her eyes popped open and she found herself staring up into the smiling face of her father. He bent his head down and kissed her on the forehead and then on the tip of her nose.
"It's nearly noon," he said. "You slept half the day away already."
"Is that coffee I smell perking?" Donna said.
"It is ... and how would you like your eggs?"
"Daddy, I'm a big girl," Donna said. "You don't have to fix breakfast for me."
"But I want to...."
"Over easy," Donna said, and shrugged. "It's so good to be home, Daddy. So very, very good...."
"Even in this roach-infested dump?"
"Any place where you are couldn't be a dump, Daddy."
"Well, I ... c'mon, get your tail in gear," her father said, and began to walk toward the door.
"Those eggs will be on the table in ten minutes, young lady, and you'd better be there to meet them."
"I love you, Daddy...."
"Me, too, kid," the old man said, and then quickly left the room ... afraid that his daughter might see the tears he knew were welling up in his eyes.
As she showered, Donna tried to make some sense out of the weird dream she had had. It was all tied up with the confusion she felt about her sexual activity ... that much she felt certain of, but the symbolism was all so bizarre that it really didn't seem to make a lot of sense. Oh, sure, there were some pretty obvious things, too ... like the fact that Bill, the fat man, was someone she had gone to bed with and ended up not loving and it seemed only right and just that he should be the one to do her in. But there seemed to be something more there, something buried deep within the symbol-some sort of answer to the confusion she felt concerning sex. But what? What could it be? And what did that crazy thing about being out in space mean? What a freaky sort of fantasy! And those ugly birds ... could they be a sort of graphic representation of her feeling that if she gave her body to many more people like the fat man that she might die? That her soul would die? That made a sort of left-handed sense, she decided. Sure. Actually, she had been pretty damn lucky in her career as a call girl-nearly all of her partners had been the sort of people she might have gone to bed with in a love situation ... and the money was really so much extra icing on the cake. It stood to reason that she would more than likely run into a lot of other people like the fat man or like the basketball hero who had forced her to go down on him while she was still in high school. Oh, maybe they wouldn't be quite that screwed-up and violent ... but they would be people she would be unable to relate to as love objects, people who would be using her body merely for the release of their sexual tension. But was there really anything wrong with that? It all came down to that-the ten-million-dollar questionsex as an expression of love, or sex for the sake of sex? If only there were some sort of middle ground, some way to allow for both positions.
"Donna...."
"In a minute, Daddy!"
"I'm about to put your eggs on the table!"
"Be right there...."
There seemed to be a lot of color in her father's face and she couldn't help but feel that it was her presence in the apartment that put it there. She ate every bit of the breakfast he had prepared for her, not because she was really all that hungry but because she wanted to please him.
"Daddy, can I ask you something that's really none of my business?"
"You can ask," her father said, and grinned, "but there is no guarantee that I'll answer."
"It's pretty important to me...."
"So ask!"
"All those years that mother was ill ... well, you and she weren't able to ... to have sex, were you?"
"No," her father said, and shook his head sadly. "She ... no ... no, we weren't."
"What did you do for release of your sexual tension?"
The old man tried to smile; didn't quite make it.
"May I ask why you're asking?"
"It's not just idle curiosity, Daddy. Really, it's so darn important it isn't funny."
"Something to do with your studies?"
Donna nodded ... and her father got up from the table, picked up the coffeepot from the stove and refilled each of their cups. He seemed to be waging some sort of philosophical battle within himself ... and his color grew pale. Finally, he sighed and re turned to his seat at the table.
"I suppose that what you're really asking is whether or not I ever cheated on your mother," he said, his head held down, unable to look into his daughter's eyes. "Well, the answer is yes!"
"Can ... can you tell me about it?"
"It?"
"Yes, about the ... oh, I see," Donna said in a little whisper of a voice. "There was more than one, huh? That's it, isn't it?"
"I'd still like to hear about ... about them, Daddy, but if it's going to string you out...."
"Actually, I've wanted to tell you for quite some time, Donna," her father said. "But first ... well, I want you to know that I loved your mother very much."
"I know that, Daddy...."
"Do you really?"
"Of course...."
"Your mother had been sick for nearly five years the first time it happened and ... oh, Donna, my need was so great. I was constantly horny ... and it began to have an effect on other aspects of my life. Old friends would stop me and ask if your mother had taken a turn for the worse ... that sort of thing. And there really wasn't anyone I could talk to about it ... my problem."
"I understand, Daddy. Really, I do...."
"Well, I got chummy with this secretary at work. She was quite a bit younger than me and ... well, a fine-looking woman. Built like ... like...."
Donna felt her face go red as she caught her father looking at her breasts. "Are you trying to tell me that she had big boobs, Daddy?"
"Yeah," the old man said, and shrugged. "I don't know why I should find it so difficult to verbalize all of this, but ... I sure as hell am. Anyway, she asked me over to her home one day after work and we ended up in bed. It got to be a pretty regular thing after a while ... and then one afternoon ... the two of us were on the sofa in the living room, naked as the day we came into the world; indeed, I was in the process of ... of climax ... and ... well, her husband walked in and caught us."
"Oh, Daddy ... how horrible!"
"Oh, it was that all right-horrible. I swear, Donna, I didn't know that she was married ... but in' truth I don't believe it would have made a bit of difference if I had known. I wanted her, needed her ... so very, very badly, Donna, and I ... I don't know."
"What happened then? With her husband, I mean?"
"That's the real kicker, sweetheart. I mean, if he had started in screaming and cussing or threatened me or even beat me to within an inch of my life I think I could have dealt with it, but ... no, the bastard started to cry, and, I swear, it was all I could do to keep from rushing over to his side and begging him to forgive me."
"Oh, wow...."
"She and her husband were divorced about a month later, but ... well, I refused to have anything more to do with her after that. Too guilty about it, I guess. It taught me a real lesson. After that one experience I made certain that the other women in my life were free."
"Were there a lot of them, Daddy?"
"Quite a few, I'm afraid. It seemed to get easier as time went by. I mean, I didn't feel so guilty about what I was doing to your mother."
"Did you love any of them?"
"Love?"
"Yeah...."
"I ... I really don't know, baby. Yeah, in a way I did, I guess. I cared about them-that much I can say with certainty, and caring is an aspect of love.
There was even one I would have liked to marry."
"Did you ever feel that you were using the women?"
"Sure ... but they were using me, too. Not that I'm trying to say that two wrongs made a right, baby. It's just that sex falls into one of those great gray areas where all the traditional means of measuring right from wrong somehow fail to apply. Sex is both a physical and an emotional thing ... and it's best when you have both of these things together in the same package, but ... well, there are times when you have to settle for one or the other."
"Did you ever ... use the services of a prostitute?"
"Once, when I was a kid ... fourteen, fifteen, something like that, I did. I was so damn excited that I ejaculated before I ... before I had a chance to put my penis into her vagina. The woman thought that it was the funniest damn thing and, of course, I was on the point of tears ... my big chance and I blew it, but she ... ah ... worked me up again and I was finally able to make it in the way nature had intended. It's strange, I guess, Donna, but even now, after all these years, I still think of that woman, that prostitute, with the greatest sense of affection you can possibly imagine."
"I don't think it's strange, Daddy...."
"Well ... now you know all my deep, dark secrets."
"I hope ... well, that you weren't too embarrassed by the whole thing," Donna said. "And ... I'm really glad that you told me. It clears up a whole lot of things that had been messing with my head for quite some time now."
"Well, good...."
* * *
Lon McCall arrived at precisely seven-thirty and he and Donna drove down to the flats-that gray and dirty stretch of sprawling industrial wasteland along the Cuyahoga River. Near the mouth of the river, where the filthy Cuyahoga dumps its cargo of poisonous sludge into Lake Erie, there are several nightclubs--unpretentious little places with peanut shells on the floor, good food and live entertainment.
The parking lot at Charlie's River Warehouse was filled to overflowing and Lon had to park his ancient Ford out on the street. The music from a quartet of Irish folk singers spilled out into the street from the nightclub ... and Donna felt a rush of excitement as Lon took her hand and led her toward the nightclub.
All the tables were taken and they were forced to sit at the bar. Lon ordered a Tom Collins for Donna and a mug of Irish-stout for himself ... and then the pair of them spun around on their stools to face the stage just as the quartet went into a song about an English medico living in Ireland who has his motor car stolen by members of the I.R.A. The crowd seemed to go wild and the honey-blonde found herself being swept up in the excitement of the moment, her toes tapping and her shoulders bouncing with the beat of the music. The song about the motor car came to an end ... and there were cries of "Up the Public" from the audience, and then the lights went dim and the singers went into an ancient love song-all about a farmer and his cow, but it was done in an aboriginal Celtic tongue and so few of the patrons actually understood what was being said-and a mood was set, a tone formed, a quiet aura of sensuality that soon infected most of the crowd. Donna felt the fingers of Lon's hands settle down gently on her knee and she eased her head against his broad shoulder.
The Irish quartet was replaced on the stage by a tall, thin girl with long, stringy, blonde hair. She played a mountain dulcimer and sang songs of the Southern mountains in a soft and melodious voice ... and the quiet aura of sensuality that had infected the crowd grew stronger and stronger, and Donna felt the muscles down within her cauldron begin to twitch and jerk. Lon's hand was on her inner thigh now, the fingers there tracing idle patterns in the soft, quivering flesh.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when they left the club, and Donna was feeling a bit tipsy ... and more than a little wonderful, too. She felt ... well, somehow reborn, once again a freshly scrubbed kid out on her first real date. She seemed to melt against Lon's arm as they made their way back across the street and climbed into his car. "Where are we heading?" she said, as the redhead eased the ancient Ford out into the line of traffic.
"Well, I ... home, I guess!"
"Oh, it so beautiful out, Lon...."
"I know...."
"Let's not go home just yet."
"Well, where would you like to go?"
"Anywhere we can make love!"
"Oh, Donna...."
"Easy, lover," Donna said, and grinned. "Watch your driving, lover."
* * *
The Garfield-Storm Motel offered rooms with double occupancy at four dollars a night.
"I'm a little pressed for bread," Lon said, as he fitted the key into the door of their room. "I ... well, I ... it sure is dingy...."
"No, it's wonderful," Donna said. "No ... no, it's not," he said. "It's terrible ... and I'm sorry, Donna. Perhaps we'd better...."
Donna fell into his arms and cut off his words with a long and soulful kiss. Lon picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed ... and Donna felt a strange and sudden change come over the redhead. He seemed tense, almost ... well, almost angry, but she dismissed it as just a case of jitters or something. After all, it had been a long time for the two of them. His hands began to fumble at her breasts ... and then he began to grind his manhood up against the side of her leg as he buried his tongue deeply, roughly down into her mouth.
Donna tried to ease away from him, but he held her in a viselike grip ... and his breathing began to sound like the hollow, raspy breathing of a wounded reptile. He slipped one of his hands up under her skirt and began to tug away frantically at her panties.
"Easy, lover," Donna cried.
"I need you, Donna...."
"And I need you, too, baby, but ... there's no reason for all this roughness," Donna said. "I'm in no hurry ... and I do so want our first time together again to be right, Lon ... darling!"
He crawled on top of her, forcing her legs apart with his knees ... and Donna stared up at in in angry confusion, more than a little frightened. There was so much anger in his face, so much ... hate, and it seemed to leap out at her like the flames of a fire.
"Why, Lon?" Donna said in a whisper.
"Why, huh," Lon cried, and zipped down his pants. He freed his penis and curled his fingers around the shank of it. "You see this, bitch? It's white ... white, you lousy nigger lover!"
"What are you talking about, Lon?"
"You and that stinking jungle bunny!"
"What...?"
"It was all over the school," Lon screamed. "Everybody knew that you had sucked him off."
"You're not making any sense, Lon!"
"You made a fool out of me, Donna ... you and that lousy nigger, that Tyrone Gilhooley. I was so in love with you ... and you quit me for that black ape."
"That's crazy, Lon. It was months after we broke up that I went out with Ty ... and it was you who broke off with me, not the other way around. You said that you owed it to yourself to experience other girls...."
"But you knew that I was still in love with you."
"No, I didn't...."
"You did, you did...."
"Lon, you were going steady with Mary Ellen!"
"At least she was white...."
"Oh, Lon ... Lon," Donna said, miserably.
He lowered himself down into the saddle, driving his hard and screaming manhood into her vagina like a sword ... and all the honey-blonde could do was close her eyes and wait for it to be over. She lay there, unable to move as the boy who had once been such a kind and considerate lover ripped away at her flesh with his hate ... and when he was finished he picked up the ragged remnant of her panties and used it to wipe off his penis. He stood up, glaring down at the golden one.
"C'mon, nigger lover ... I'll take you home."
"Please leave, Lon," Donna said. "I'll take a cab, but ... please, get out of my sight before I say something that we'll both be sorry for later."
"You're a lousy lay, Donna...."
"Oh, Lon...."
"But then, maybe you only move when it's black peter that makes you move."
"Get out!"
"With pleasure, bitch...."
"Get out of here...."
The redhead took a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and threw it down on the bed. "Here," he said. "For the cab. Never let it be said that Lon McCall ever left a woman stranded ... even a lousy, stinking traitor to her race. Maybe the cabbie will be black and then you and he...."
"You're sick, Lon. Really sick...."
"I'm sick, huh?"
"Will you please just get out of here?"
"I loved you," Lon said. "I ... I even wanted to marry you ... and you had to go and spoil everything."
Tears welled up in his eyes and began to roll down his face. Suddenly, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, banging the door closed behind him.
Donna picked up the phone on the stand at the side of the bed and asked the desk clerk to call a cab for her.
It was nearly one o'clock when Donna arrived back at her father's apartment. The old man was asleep on the couch ... apparently having fallen asleep while watching the television set. She turned off the set and then went to bed. Once again she dreamed of Bob and Valarie and the Ginsbergs ... and once again they were all sprawled out on the huge water bed in the Ginsbergs' home. The fat man appeared as if by magic ... only this time he had Lon McCall's face, and the golden-one woke up screaming.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Donna spent the last three days of the semester break at the home of Valarie's parents in upstate New York. Valarie had met her at the Greyhound station and they had had lunch in the little town of Rome before driving out to Applewood-the six hundred and forty acre Lewis Estate. The house was an imposing structure, all field stone and glass, set high on the side of a hill.
"It's beautiful," Donna said.
"Yeah, I guess," Valarie said, "but ... well, the vibes around here leave something to be desired. It's ... I don't know. I swear, if it wasn't for Andy, you know, my kid brother, I'd never set foot in this place again. Really, if it hadn't been for the fact that you were coming I think I would have gone back to Cutter the day after I arrived here. My mother has been impossible. She claims she's going through the change and for some obscure, almost mystical reason she seems to feel that gives her the right to be more obnoxious than usual. I mean, that bitch has been super-hateful ever since the first moment I walked in the door, and ... ah, let's change the subject."
"Okay! How's your kid brother?"
"Horny...."
"How can you tell?"
"Well, there seems to be this strange sort of protrusion in the front of his pants all the time," Valarie said, "and he's always rubbing himself down there. One day I accidentally brushed my breasts up against him and he damn near jumped out of his skin."
"I get the picture...."
Valarie introduced Donna to her parents ... and they both appeared to be very warm, friendly and outgoing people, not at all as the dark-haired girl had described them. Andy, however, turned out to be exactly as advertised-tall and dark and oozing sex from every pore in his skin. He was tall-nearly six feet, and dark, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. A wide shock of coal-black hair framed his almost angelic face ... and his eyes were big and blue and very, very sad. His nose was thin and straight and his lips were full and ripe, sensuously moist. And, indeed, there was a great bulging sort of protrusion in the front of his pants ... and the golden-one found herself speculating on the size of whatever it was that was making that protrusion. She decided that it would be impressive.
Andy took one look at the honey-blonde and broke out in a cold sweat. Donna smiled at him and said "hi" and tried very hard not to laugh when he was unable to answer her. His lips moved furiously but no intelligible sound came from his mouth. In fact, it sounded as if he were having a fit of some kind. Finally, he turned and ran away ... and Valarie laughed so hard that tears ran down her face. The golden-one wanted to run after the boy, to calm and comfort him ... but she felt that all she would succeed in doing was to embarrass the kid even more.
Valarie showed Donna to the bedroom they would share ... and the two of them made love. It wasn't until dinner that the honey-blonde saw Andy again. He apologized for his behavior earlier in the day ... and Donna smiled and said that he had no reason to apologize. The boy hung his head and was silent for the remainder of the meal.
"I think I've blown it with your brother," Donna said to Valarie as they prepared for bed.
"No, you haven't...."
"I tried several times after supper to get him to talk, but ... well, all I got was a few monosyllabic words and a whole lot of head nodding."
"I told you, he's horny," Valarie said. "And those breasts of yours aren't helping the situation. Hey, I even caught my father giving you the long, hard look a time or two. My mother is livid ... and I couldn't be happier. I bet she even gives the old boy a little tonight."
"Oh, Val ... you're impossible."
"Why...?"
"I don't know," Donna said, and slowly shook her head from side-to-side. "Maybe it's because you're so bloody honest all the time."
"So, what's wrong with that?"
"It's like you use it as a weapon or something."
Valarie seemed to reflect on Donna's words for a moment, and then she began to nod her head. "Yeah ... yeah," she said. "I guess you're right. The thing is, as far as my parents are concerned, I really feel the need for a weapon. I know how crazy that must sound, but ... my mother and I have been at war with each other since I was fourteen. My Dad is a great guy, but he's gutless ... and it's like he's al ways looking to me to fight his battles."
"What about Andy? Aren't you fighting ... or at least trying to fight his battles for him?"
"Yeah, but ... hell, he's only a kid," Valarie said. "He's still got a chance...."
"At what?"
"Making it...."
"What does that mean?"
"At being a person!"
"You father's not a person?"
"Donna, I've already told you-my father is an appendage to a machine that makes money. He wouldn't change even if he had the opportunity. But Andy ... you can see what a sensitive kid he is, Donna. There's still hope for him. He could blossom into something pretty special. Mother, dear, is afraid that he's queer or something. She's talking about shipping him off to some military school to stiffen his backbone ... and that will ruin him. They'll fit him to some goddamn mold and he'll come out of it a junior version of my father-impotent and angry and lost. Hell, all the kid needs is a good roll in the hay ... just some concrete evidence of the fact that he's a man."
"Sex as the universal panacea!"
"Yeah ... something like that, I guess."
"And you really want me to seduce him, Val?"
"More than anything...."
Donna was silent for a moment, obviously trying to shift through the potential ramifications of Valarie's words. "I don't know, Val," she said. "What ... well, what if it all backfires? Look at the damage we could do!"
"It won't backfire...."
"But how do you know it won't?"
"I just do, that's all. What do you say, Donna, will you do it?"
"I ... I don't know, Val," Donna said, "I'm still thinking about it...."
"What more can I ask?"
"Well," Donna said, an impish sort of grin on her face, "you might ask me to share your bed tonight?"
"Consider yourself asked!"
* * *
The next day Donna succeeded in talking Andy into showing her around part of the estate ... and it seemed that the further away from the house they got the more open the boy became. After a while, on the pretense of keeping her from falling as they walked over some pretty rough terrain, he even worked up enough courage to take the honey-blonde by the hand. They stopped in a small clearing to rest, sprawling out on their backs on the open ground.
"May I ask you a personal question, Donna?"
"Shoot...."
"Are ... are you a lesbian?"
Donna sat up with a start and then started to laugh-a laugh that was a bit forced, at least at first. She looked over at the boy ... and then reached out and took him by the hand. "What in the world ever gave you that idea, Andy?" she said. "Do I look dykey or something?"
"Oh, no ... not at all."
"Well, what made you think I was ... queer?"
"I overheard my mother say that you were probably Val's lover," he said. "She was talking on the phone, and ... are you, Donna? Are you a lesbian?"
"No ... and neither is your sister!"
A look of great and intense relief seemed to flood its way across the boy's face, and then he began to smile ... a smile that seemed to rival the day in its brightness.
"I'm really glad...."
"Why?"
"I don't know," the boy said.
"You don't know or you don't want to tell me?"
"I ... I don't want to tell you?"
"Why?"
"Because ... because...."
"Can I ask you a personal question, Andy?"
"Yeah ... okay ... sure!"
"Are you still a virgin?"
The boy's face grew cherry red ... and for a rather long, terrible moment the honey-blonde was afraid that he was going to get to his feet and scamper away. Donna tightened her grip on his hand and after a while he worked his way over to her and nestled his face against her breasts.
"You know, don't you?"
"Know what, Andy?"
"About me...."
"What about you?"
"Please ... don't tease me, Donna," he said. "It's really bad, I swear, I ... there are times I wish that I were dead! And that scares me, too. Man, I'm always thinking of ways to off myself."
"But why, Andy?"
"You know...."
"No, really I don't, sweetheart."
"I'm queer, Donna," he said. "I'm a lousy faggot."
"Why do you say that?"
"Why do you think?"
"Well," she said, and began to stroke the boy's hair, "I suppose you've had some sort of homosexual experience and it convinced you that...."
"I can't make it with girls, Donna ... only other boys," Andy said in a trembling voice. "I ... I don't like being this way but facts are facts."
"How many girls have you tried with?"
"Plenty...."
"Oh?"
"All right ... it was only one," the boy said, "but
... I couldn't even get it up, Donna. The girl tried just about everything you can think of and nothing worked."
"What's that I feel poking against my leg right at this moment?" Donna said. "Oh, God, I ... I...."
"Hey ... it's all right, Andy," Donna said. "It feels good. In fact, I've been sitting here thinking about how nice it feels."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...."
"Would you like to make love to me, Andy?"
"It won't work...."
"Would you like to try?"
"It won't work, Donna," the boy said. "What the hell's the sense of trying. I told you, I'm queer ... a stinking, lousy faggot...."
"You're no such thing, Andy...."
"How do you know?"
"Call it vibes ... whatever," Donna said. "I can tell ... really, I can. Just like I know that you really want to make love with me. You do, don't you?"
The boy nodded ... and Donna reached around her back, up under her sweater, and unfastened the catch on her bra. The boy felt the surge of her freed breasts against his face and he began to squirm, whimpering like a small puppy. Donna took his hand and slipped it up under her sweater and placed it on her breasts ... and the boy cried out in fear and anticipation as he felt the nipple there grow firm and begin to pulse. He sat up, looked into Donna's eyes ... and then his lips were on hers, hungrily moving. The honey-blonde parted her lips a bit and drew his tongue down into her mouth ... and it was almost as if she could feel the tension being released from the boy's body.
"I ... I want to see them," the boy said.
"See what, Andy?"
"Your breasts...."
"Then why don't you take my sweater off for me?"
"Can I ... I mean, it's okay?"
"I want you to do it, Andy...."
The boy sucked in a deep breath of air, as if he were a soldier steeling himself for battle and then began to lift the golden-one's sweater up over her head. He set it on the ground and then slipped her bra from around her shoulders ... and then sat back to inspect his handiwork. Donna filled her lungs with air, placed her hands on her hips and thrust her breasts forward ... and the boy began to groan. His eyes grew big and round and it seemed as if he had to continuously remind himself to breathe.
"Oh, they're beautiful," he said.
"Would you like to kiss them?"
"May I?"
"I'd like that very much...."
Donna lay back on the ground and the boy crawled over to her ... and then hesitantly lowered his head and kissed each of her nipples. Donna cupped her hands around his head and eased his mouth back against her breasts ... and after a while the boy took one of her nipples up into his mouth and began to suck on it. The moment was filled with a mounting sense of excitement that seemed to crackle above their heads, like a sudden and violent electrical storm ... and Donna began to squirm as the muscles within her vagina began to twitch and soon the air was heavy with the thick, bittersweet aroma of her own musky need.
"Let's get out of our clothing, Andy...."
"Me, too?"
"Yes, lover ... you, too!"
"I ... I ... I...."
"No back talk now, young man," Donna said. "C'mon, let me see what you look like in the nude."
"You ... you first!"
Donna shrugged, grinning impishly, moved out from under the boy and then got to her feet, kicking off her shoes. He seemed to be hypnotized by her movements, especially the faint jiggling of her ripely proud, pear-shaped breasts. His eyes grew big and round as she zipped down the slacks she wore and let them fall slowly, tantalizingly to her feet before she stepped out of them ... and he began to shudder in anticipation as she hooked her thumbs in the elastic tops of her panties and then began to wiggle her way out of them.
The boy groaned and pressed the base of his hand against his convulsing manhood, rocking back and forth ... and then the honey-blonde was helping him to his feet.
"Okay," she said. "It's your turn...."
The boy dug an elbow into the front of his T-shirt and then pulled the shirt up over his head ... and Donna smiled her approval. He knelt down and began to untie his shoes, fumbling with the laces there, and Donna eased around behind him and leaned against his back, just far enough so that the tips of her nipples made contact with his bare skin ... and the boy let out a long, low moan and ripped his laces out of his shoes. He stood up, kicking off his shoes in the process, and began to fumble with the belt on his pants ... but his hands were trembling so badly that he made absolutely no progress. Finally, Donna slipped her hands around his waist and unfastened the catch ... and when the boy still didn't move she released the button at the top of his pants and then zipped down the fly there ... and all the while she continued to rub her breasts against his bare back, turning the skin there into a mass of quivering gooseflesh. His pants dropped to his ankles and after a moment he stepped out of them and then turned around to face the honey-blonde, his face pale, his lips trembling in an awesome sort of fear and then on impulse the golden-one dropped to her knees and began to rub her face against the front of his shorts, purring like a kitten. His penis felt like a hunk of steel, like a spring that had been wound too tightly ... and it convulsed hotly against her cheek, threatening to explode. Donna removed his socks and then began to tug at his shorts, enjoying his breathless little cries of anguish ... and the boy closed his eyes and lifted his head skyward, unable to watch what was taking place.
"Ease up, lover," Donna said, but her words seemed to have no effect on the boy ... and so she worked his shorts down over his hips and to his knees.
Freed from the bit of cotton that had held it prisoner, his manhood began to thrash about, like some dark and brooding monster, long and thick ... bobbing and pulsing and jerking about wildly. The honey blonde parted her lips a bit and planted a huge, surging sort of kiss on the head of that great and throbbing hunk of meat, swirling her tongue around and around the face of it ... and the boy began to moan, deep within his throat, trembling with the wildest sense of joy he had ever known.
"Let's ... lay in the grass," he said. "Okay?"
"Whatever you say," Donna said. "You're the boss!"
"Some boss," the boy said.
They made a pillow of his pants and her slacks and the boy lay at Donna's side while she sprawled on her back. He cupped a trembling hand over one of her breasts and began to knead the flesh there gently between his fingers ... and then his lips found hers again and this time she had no need to draw his tongue into her mouth. She slid her hand down the front of his body and curled her finger around the hard and angry shank of manhood.
Andy began to nibble his way down from Donna's mouth ... and then the tip of his tongue made contact with the tip of one of her nipples and the goldenone began to groan, her hips beginning to roll lazily from side-to-side in undulation. The boy drew her nipple deeply into his mouth and began to suck away wildly at it, flicking the tip of hia hot and wet tongue rapidly across the top of the tiny peak ... and then she felt the trembling fingers of his free hand as it began to inch its way down, down, to the knotted little patch of skin which covered her lean, tight belly. The honey-blonde sighed and spread her long, tapered legs as the boy's fingers came to rest in her patch of golden pubic hair ... and then his fingers touched down ever-so-lightly on the wet and shimmering lips of her vulva.
"Oh, Andy ... lover," Donna cried. "Feel, baby ... see how wet you've made me. Please, Andy ... baby, baby ... feel ... stick your finger down in there and feel how wet you've made me, Andy...."
"I ... I ... I...."
"What is it lover?"
"Oh, nothing, Donna," he said. "Really, it's ... it's nothing at all."
He seemed to shudder and then he drew in a deep breath of air and spread apart the gooey lips of her vulva with his ring-and fore-fingers, and then-his whole body trembling with fear and apprehension, he plunged his middle finger down into that wet and rippling world of Donna's fiery cauldron ... and then waited, unable to move, unable to draw so much as a single breath of air.
"What is it, lover?"
"I don't know," the boy said. "I'm just so scared."
"Hey, listen ... relax," Donna said. "We've got all afternoon ... and I'm telling you, we aren't going to leave this spot until I feel your seed enter my vagina."
"But...."
"But what, lover?"
"I feel so damn dumb!"
"Welcome to the crowd...."
"Am I doing all right?" the boy said, "I mean, so far?"
"Can't you feel how wet it is down there?"
"Sure, but...."
"Well, that means that you've really got me all worked up, lover. So ... well, why don't you just knock off all this other nonsense and concentrate on ... on the task at hand. Okay?"
"I'll try...."
"By the way, would you mind moving your mouth over to my other nipple ... the one you're at is getting a little bit sore, Andy."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I ... I...."
Once again she cupped her free hand around the back of his head and gently guided his lips and tongue to her breast-the one he had been neglecting. The boy began to swirl the flat of his tongue against the nipple there ... and all the while the fingers moved about wildly within the wet and pulsing walls of her vagina. He found her clitoris and the honey blonde began to shudder. She would only allow him to play with it for short periods of time-very short, and then she would begin to moan and her whole body would begin to quiver and jerk and then she would push his hand away and he would have to begin the process all over again.
It was something he really had to see, that little button of magic there at the top of the entrance of her bubbling cauldron.
He began to silver-trail his lips and tongue down, down across the tight, goose bump-covered flesh of her hard, trim belly, and down ... only vaguely aware of the twitching of muscle in her thighs, pausing to rest for a moment with his chin in her triangular patch of golden fuzz and savoring the rich and heady aroma of her heavy musk.
"Oh, Andy," Donna cried. "That's so good, baby ... so very, very right."
The combination of her words and the heavy aroma of her musk had his head spinning, but he continued with the journey of his lips and tongue ... lower and lower, moving at a snail pace, resisting, but not too strongly, the ever-increasing pressure of the golden-one's hands on his head as she tried to hurry his mouth to its ultimate destination.
"Oh, Andy ... please, please ... hurry...."
The boy pressed a light, experimental sort of kiss on the dripping lips of her vulva ... and then sent his tongue down into the dark and wet cave in search of that amazing little bump of ... of whatever.
"Andy ... Andy...."
His tongue found that quivering little mound of hard, pink flesh ... and Donna jumped, high, like a bullfrog, her legs bowing out and her buttocks leaping up from the ground, high, high up into the air. She began to scream and howl, begging her young lover not to stop as she twisted her hips violently from side-to-side and tried to force more, more, evermore of her ripe and dripping vagina up against the nibbling lips and lapping tongue of the boy.
"Oh, lover, lover ... oh, yes ... yes, Andy ... oh, Andy ... lover, lover ... what a man you are. Oh, Andy, if you only knew how good that feels...."
Andy had much of his face buried down inside that hot and screaming cauldron, nose to chin, and he was having more than a little difficulty breathing ... but somehow that simple fact just didn't seem to be all that important to him at that moment. He felt a growing sense of power and mastery, a feeling fed by the golden-one whimpering, thin and helpless, as she seemed to scoot all over the ground, wiggling and rolling. The boy had to get up on his knees and dig his thin and trembling fingers into the pulsing meat of her quivering buttocks in order to hold her wildly gyrating vagina tightly against his hungry mouth.
"Stop," Donna cried. "Oh, Andy ... lover, please, oh, please ... stop."
The boy lowered her buttocks to the ground, crushed by what he felt was her rejection of his technique as a lover ... and then he looked up into her face, wordlessly seeking some sort of explanation to the confusion he felt at the moment. His lips moved but it was a long time before he was able to force any word from his mouth.
"Did I do something wrong?" he said.
"Oh, no ... no, lover...."
"But...."
"It was beautiful, Andy," Donna said. "Really, so ... so beautiful. Your tongue ... it's like velvet or something, so warm and thick and ... oh, Andy, I've never had it done better. Really...."
"Then why did you make me stop?"
"Because I want to feel your penis inside me, lover."
The boy's face brightened and then broke into a radiant sort of smile. "Really?" he said. "You'd really rather have my ... my thing down inside you than ... well, this older guy I know, he says that a girl would rather have a guy eat her than ... than...."
"Say it, Andy...."
"Than screw her...."
"You tell that older guy he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about," Donna said. "But ... hey, let's not lose this load of steam I've built up. We can talk all you want, but later ... okay, Andy? Right at this moment all I want is the feel of that beautiful penis you have sliding in and out of my vagina."
His manhood lay hard and angry at the lips of her vulVa, pulsing and jerking ... and then Donna wrapped one of her arms around his waist and eased the other one down between their wet bodies and curled the fingers of that hand around the shank of his hard and angry penis. She spread her long, smoothly tapered legs, paused as a little ripple of excitement worked its way through his body and then guided the head of his screaming tool down into her hot and wet cave of love.
"Oh, Donna," he cried. "Oh, God ... that's so nice ... sp ... so wet...."
Donna grinned and then kissed him.
They lay there, motionless, enjoying a strange and soft sort of magic as belly button kissed belly button and organ got acquainted with organ ... and then Donna groaned and her hips began to roll gently from side-to-side. The boy responded with a little rocking motion of his own, driving his manhood deeper and deeper into her fiery cauldron ... and the gooey mass of hot, blistering flesh within her vagina tightened around his invader and began to squeeze and pulse, throbbing with the wildest sort of promise.
"Oh, Donna...."
"Yes, lover ... I know!"
She cupped one of her hands around the hard and angry sac of flesh which held his testicles and began to squeeze it playfully as he drove his bold tongue down into her mouth once again, moaning and whimpering.
He began to experiment with some new movements, easing his long and hard tool up out of that screaming cauldron to a point where only the tip of its head remained down inside of it and then driving that hard and angry sword back down into her as deeply as it would go.
"Oh, God ... Andy...."
It felt so good, so ... so right, and he could tell that the golden-one was enjoying the experience every bit as much as he. He began to increase the tempo of his strokes and Donna merely altered the grinding rhythm of her hips to match his movements, no longer merely rolling her hips from side-to-side but grinding her entire pelvis upward now as well, really slamming it up against his downward stroke and then rippling it back as he began to withdraw that roll of hot and hard, pulsing meat that was his penis.
"Oh, Donna ... I...."
"It's all right, lover," she cried. "Give it to me ... let me have that load of love-juice you're carrying."
"I ... I'm going to cum, Donna!"
"Good, lover ... give it to me!"
"I can't hold it back...."
"Then don't do it," she cried. "Let it go, Andy...."
Donna wrapped her legs around the boy's waist. He got up on his knees and lifted the honey-blonde up in his arms and held her like that, completely off the ground, as he began to ram his screaming invader like a pile driver into her tortured vagina, deeper and deeper and deeper.
"I ... I'm there," he cried. "Oh, Donna ... Donna, I ... I'm cumming. I'm really cumming. Oh, God, am I ever cumming. Oh, Donna...."
"Oh, baby ... baby," Donna cried. "I ... I am, too ... I'm cumming, Andy. I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Oh, Andy ... I'm cummingggggg."
It was a great and awesome thing, twin climaxes which became as one, a single, soaring climax that seemed to reach out toward the stars as it ripped away at the flesh of their bodies like some hunger-craved jungle animal, exploding like bolts of thunder across a vast and stormy sky.
"Oh, Donna...."
"Yes, lover. I know, I know...."
The boy began to cry ... and Donna covered his face with warm and tender kisses. Finally, he eased her back onto the ground and then curled up next to her.
"I need to tell you something, Donna."
"All right...."
"I think maybe Valarie talked you into this," he said. "But that's okay ... because ... well, I was certain I could never make it with a woman and ... and...."
"Spit it out, Andy...."
"Have you ever thought seriously about suicide, Donna?"
"No ... I don't think so."
"Well, I have," the boy said. "In fact, I ... that's about the only thing I have thought about lately. Until today, that is. I'm trying to tell you that you probably saved my life, Donna. How it happened really isn't all that important, so ... well, you did it as a favor to my sister. It still saved my life."
"Look, Andy," Donna said, "It's true that Valarie asked me to ... to do what I did, but the real reason that I did it was because I needed you more than I could ever hope to make you understand. I needed your kindness, Andy ... your gentility."
"Why...?"
"I had a very bad sexual experience while I was home. An old beau of mine ... well, we were ... no, I was trying to recapture something I had thought had once existed between the two of us. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Andy?"
The boy shook his head.
"I can see that it's pretty painful for you talk about, Donna, but ... why it's painful, I can't see. Did he do something to hurt you?"
"Not physically, Andy. He thought that I had done something to him ... back, a long time ago, and ... we were lovers once, Andy, but when we tried to be lovers again he had changed. It was as if he were trying to use his penis to punish me."
"You mean he was just using you ... your body?"
"No, no, no, Andy...."
"Boy, I'm really confused!"
"That makes two of us, baby. Look, the thing that really got to me was the fact that he was able to take one of the most beautiful things that can happen between a man and a woman and turn it into something ugly, something filled with hate. I don't suppose that this will make a bit of sense to you, Andy, but I've been having a sort of war within myself about ... oh, about certain ways of looking at sex."
"Yeah," the boy said. "Me, too...."
"The thing is, I ... I had drawn battle lines between two points of view that aren't necessarily at odds with one another, Andy...."
"What points of view?"
"Okay ... one point of view says that you should only have sexual relations with someone you are in love with. The other point of view says that sex doesn't need to be justified. It's okay to go to bed with anybody you want to because sex is a natural part of life ... like eating or sleeping. Do you understand that?"
"I guess so...."
"For a long, long time, Andy, I thought that the first point of view was the right one-that the primary purpose of sex was as an expression of love."
"But now you ... well, you think that the other point of view is the right one?"
"This is going to sound a little crazy, Andy, but I now know that both points of view are right."
"But how can that be?"
"Well, it all depends on how you define sex ... and I had been defining it in a very limited, very narrow frame of reference. That is, that all sex was the same thing!"
"Isn't it?"
"No, not really. Look, one way is, indeed, a manifestation of love ... and that's a very beautiful thing. But it's wrong to limit sex exclusively to that. I mean, there are all sorts of good reasons for going to bed with someone. Let's say that I meet some guy and he really turns me on-is there really any valid reason I shouldn't go to bed with him?"
"I don't know...."
"Maybe I'm just interested in ... well, some sort of sexual experiment. Some sort of far-out thing that only this strange guy can get into. Can you dig that?"
"I guess...."
"There are all kinds of good reasons for going to bed with someone, Andy!"
"Like helping a fourteen-year-old prove to himself that he's not a homosexual?" the boy said.
"Yeah...."
"But what if you were married, Donna? Would you still have sex with other people?"
"I don't know, Andy. It would depend pretty much on how the man I married felt about it. If it ... well, if it were okay with him I might."
"If we were married," Andy said, "I don't think I'd want you to have sex with anyone else."
Donna reached out and curled her fingers around Andy's manhood ... and in less time than it takes to tell it was hard and erect again. Andy cupped one of his hands over one of her breasts ... and the nipple there grew suddenly hard and began to pulse against his touch.
"Oh, Donna...."
"I hear you, Andy," she said. "Oh, lover, how loud and clear I hear you...."
