Archive Note: Efforts have been made to remove any errors in the following text caused by the process of creating this E-book. In the interests of authenticity, the remaining misspellings, whether the result of the author's mistakes or typesetting errors, were left as found in the original pocketbook.
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CHAPTER ONE
The big jet climbed to cruising altitude and leveled off for the short flight from London to Dusseldorf. All the incoming flights to Hamburg were being routed through Dusseldorf. Susan and John should have been exhuasted from their stay in London with Angelle and Logan. But they weren't. It had been an almost continual orgy since the first night when Susan had phoned the number given her by Ronaire, the Frenchman. The wild sex-ortiented floor show's at "Angelle's Rest" where the patrons did everything except rest.
Flying over the English Channel they were conniving and contriving, trying to find a way to have sex on the plane without being caught.
"Tell you what," Susan's eyes lit up, "I'll go back to the rest room and in a few minutes you follow me. There are two rest rooms and they are not marked so that means either men or women can go in either of them. If you let me go and then you come along in a little while no one will know that we both went into the same one. We'll take the one on the left as we go back. Okay?"
John turned and looked back down the aisle of the plane. There was a curtain pulled across the entrance to the rest room area. No one could see who went into which of the two doors.
"All right. You're on." He moved his legs sideways so that she could get past him. He watched as her cute bottom wiggled down the aisle and he could feel the old passion start to rise in his pants. The tingling sensation he got when Susan's buns bounced jauntily as she walked on the high heeled slippers. He could remember the time when he was cruel to her sexually. But that had all been solved in France. He found out at the round of parties in Paris that the problem wasn't Susan's but his own.
He had been a terrible prude and fought his own happinesss because of it. But now all was well and their vacation was continuing on a new level of fun and enjoyment.
He waited almost five minutes and then casually rose from his seat and calmly made his way the length of the big aircraft to the little room at the far end where Susan was waiting to receive his horn of plenty. He smiled at the thought.
He didn't knock. Just opened the door and entered. Susan stood in the small room, nude. It hadn't occurred to her that someone other than John mihgt come in. When John suggested that it might have happened she smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said, "But no one did." That was that. She went to him and put her arms around his neck, pulling herself up as his head came down to kiss her. John let his hands wander over her body, caressing the soft flesh and exploring the confines of her tender and warm mouth. The pouty lips puckered in surrender and the body quivering to his touch. It became a new thrill every time he touched her. Every sex act was now a honeymoon and John no longer harbored the dark sadistic attitude. Any sadistic tendencies came out in his hammering thrust as he made love to her.
The room was small and John's passion was large. He chewed at her earlobes gently and nibbled down her shoulders. Susan was also extremely excited and she nearly reached climax when John let his tongue linger on the tips of her rosebud tits.
She panted, "Here, let me get around you." She turned and pulled John around and had him sit down on the small toilet with the lid down. John was fully clothed but Susan helped him unbuckle his belt and got his pants open, exposing the big rod which already was seeping at the head.
"This is better," she gasped and straddled over his upright prick. John had her two luscious breasts in his hands fondling them, kissing first one and then the other. Susan lowered herself over the head of John's prong and with an undulating motion she began to ease the mouth of her vagina down over John's manhood, moving and undulating and rotating as each inch of the hard flesh entered her. It took only a few minutes for the feeling to rise in John's legs and up through his entire body and then the big eruption. When he came it was an explosion. His arms around Susan's waist came up and grabbed her shoulders from behind and with a lunge and a heave he brought her down hard, completely burying himself and the sperm splashed and splattered against the opening of her womb and she climaxed with him.
They panted with exhaustion hanging onto each other for support. Someone tried the door handle and they both gave a start. But the door was still locked and Susan quickly dressed as John zipped up his trousers.
Susan whispered to John, "Well go out together. You say your wife was ill and let them think what they will. I doubt that anyone would think we had this much nerve."
John nodded and when they were presentable again he unlocked the door and pretended to help Susan out. An elderly women was waiting to get in and she gave John a dirty look.
"My wife is rather ill-she isn't used to flying," John said in a very unconvincing fashion.
The lady just gave him another dirty stare and snorted, "mmpt" and went inside the vacant restroom, quickly closing the door behind her.
Susan snickered and as they made their way back to their seats she noticed a stewardess giving John a knowing look. At least it was a knowing look to Susan.
But the trip continued on without event and Susan dozed, wondering half-asleep and half-awake, what excitement was ahead of them. She must remember to make an entry in her trip diary when she got to a hotel in Hamburg.
It seemed that she had only closed her eyes and the stewardess was gently shaking her shoulder. "We are preparing to land in Dusseldor. Please fasten your safety belt."
"Oh? Oh yes. Thank you." Susan fumbled for the seat belt as she leaned forward to look out the porthole window. She could see the green countryside below. It looked so peaceful from the air. So green and pure and clean. She had a sudden nostalgia for her childhood again with the hills and countryside of the rural area in which she spent her early years. All gone now. All behind her. A tear welled in her eye. This great big ugly sophisticated sex-crazy world, she thought. How awful to be trapped She brushed the tear and the thoughts from her mind. She was on a vacation and they wre here to have fun. Why conglomerate her head with sad thoughts.
The landing was smooth and comfortable. The announcement came over the speaker system, "Please remain seated until the plane comes to a complete halt. On behalf of the Captain and crew, this is your stewardess thanking you for your cooperation and we hope you have had a pleasant flight." The click of the button and her voice went silent. The engines hummed outside the pressurized cabin as the giant jet zig-zagged along the strips of concrete that interlaced the field like dingy grey ribbons.
The large craft rolled to a halt and the engines were cut. Already many of the passengers had ignored the stewardess and had bags and parcels pulled down from the overhead shelf and now clogged the aisles awaiting some signal from ahead to move out.
Once outside the plane a large building loomed ahead like some square-shaped monster that fed on people as they flowed into the doorway that could easily be construed, with imagination, to be some mishapen mouth. Over the doorway the sign read, "CUSTOMS". It was written in several languages, including English. To be sure there were no defectors from the custom house doorway, each side of the walkway was bordered with a high metal fence and barbed wire guards at the top. No doubt there was a lot of potential smuggling problems and Susan thought it would be hard as hell to get anything illegal throught this animal trap.
Everyone was most polite but thorough. There had been a report of a large cache of drugs being smuggled into Germany by way of England so the search of luggage and handbags was thorough. One man and woman had been hustled off to a special room where they had been disrobed and searched expertly in the most intimate places. Susan and John had been able to speak with the couple later in the coffee bar as they waited for Customs Officials to finish their tasks.
They were not man and wife but traveling companions, they explained. The man, Erik, and the girl, Frieda, were German nationals. Erik philosophically brushed his hands across the empty air and said, "It is all a misunderstanding. I was once employed by a drug firm and six months after I left the company an inventory showed a large shortage of barbituates. All employees past and present were checked out. In my home they found several bottles of different pills-I had brought them home at various times for my own personal use as employees do. The same as the office worker who may bring home some stamps or stationery. In any event I was accused. There was a big investigation and the charges of course were dropped."
"But why would they do this to you? I mean like today?" John asked quite curiously.
"Ah, but you do not understand my friend," Erik continued. "My name was given to the governmental agency involved in narcotics control and in turn to the customs and federal police officials. I shall endure this sort of thing as long as I live. I have adjusted to it. It no longer bothers me."
"You are probably wondering about me," Frieda interjected. "I once smuggled a diamond ring into the country in a packet inserted into my vaginal tract. Naturally I, too, was placed on the list of what the call 'suspicious persons.'"
Susan was absolutely fascinated. She felt as if she had suddenly dropped into the center of an international spy ring and she expected to be mysteriously shuttled off to some country estate soundproofed and surrounded by high walls.
But such was not the case. Erik and Freida were returning to Hamburg after a visit to America. John told them that he and Susan were staying at the Atlantic Hotel in Hamburg and suggested perhaps they could all get together while John and Susan were there and have dinner.
Erik thought that to be a splendid idea and promised to phone.
After what seemed hours of waiting John and Susan welcomed the inter-com announcement that Customs had been cleared and the flight was now ready to re-load and continue on to Hamburg which, incidentally, is a very short flight.
Once on the ground in Hamburg it seemed that the German efficiency was much more in evidence than it had been at Dusseldorf. Everything moved quite rapidly and the hotel service bus awaited the deplaning passengers. Susan flirted with a young college boy on the bus and his embarrassment gave his cheeks the well-known scrubbed nordic look. She enjoyed his discomfort all the way into the city although John seemed not to notice what was happening.
The hotel was beautiful. The lobby was extremely old European although it was reputed to be one of the most modern hotels. The wide staircase up to the mezzanine and second level was magnificent and Susan imagined herself sweeping down those stairs in full Loretta Young style gown and making the grand entrance to the amazement and delight of the young studs gathered at the bottom of the stairs vieing for her young hand.
But in reality they were given a beautiful suite of rooms overlooking the lake which was called Der Alster. The bell boy explained that the lake was man-made and was the delight of all sailing enthusiasts. Looking out the window at the lake below, Susan noticed all the pretty white sails dipping and gliding across the water. It looked like fun. At one end of the lake was the Ginza or shopping district. On the other end was the arch of a residential street circling the arch of the lake with park-like grounds for walking and resting.
Susan vowed silently that she would savor all there was to enjoy in this staid old city. She might even teach them a thing or two. What she didn't know was that Hamburg had its own places that could and would teach her some of the finer arts of life and love and of course that old devil sex.
If the sitting room of their suite was large-and Susan thought it immense since it also housed a breakfast nook, then the bedroom was a masterpiece. The ceilings were a-bout twelve or thirteen feet high and the bedroom was at least thirty by thirty. Such grandeur. Ah, Europe, she thought.
"John," she asked casually as she gazed down to the street below, watching all the little foreign cars darting in and out from each other, "do you think Erik will really call?"
"I don't know," John mused, "perhaps. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know, he was just so handsome-so virile looking. You know how attracted I am to the tall blonde God-like creatures. How old do you think he was? It's so hard to tell with blondes."
"About thirty-five I would imagine. Although Frieda looked to be about twenty-five. She's quite a dish."
"Yes, I noticed your eyes giving her the tape-measure once over." Susan didn't sound jealous, only a statement of fact.
"As a matter of act, you're right. Did you get a load of those boobs? Believe me, that is what I call a tape-measure job. She must be at least a 40."
"I'll bet she's had silicone," Susan replied, letting her hand go to her own full breast, assuring herself that she also had a tape-measure job.
"I'd sure as hell like to find out. She looked at me in a way that makes me think she'd like to me find out, too. Did you notice that?"
"Well, what I really noticed was the size of Erik's shoulders and arms. He is muscular as hell. I'll bet he hasn't got an ounce of fat anywhere on him-except maybed some chubbiness around his love club."
John came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her on the neck as he rubbed his hardening joint against the plump buns that protruded from Susan's backside.
"I have a little chubbiness here and there, too," John cooed. "Do I hear a bid?"
"Oh, John," Susan giggled, "I swear I don't know what's come over you. But whatever it is I hope it never stops. It's so great to have you and others too. It's like having your cake and eating it, too."
"Speaking of eating it," John said, "how about helping a fellow out?"
He pulled Susan around and kissed her hard on the mouth, grasping her hand placing it over the lump in the front of his tight trousers.
"Ooohh," Susan gasped, "you're so good and hard. Mama make daddy feel all better. You'll see."
She led him to the bed and he lay across it on his back with his legs dangling over the edge. Susan didn't bother disrobing, she unzipped John's pants and pulled them down. Then she tugged at the jockey shorts that always seemed so damned hard to do anything with but she finally managed to get them down to his knees and there in all its full rigid majesty was her husband's erect and demanding manhood.
Susan fondled his phallus with great delight. She squeezed his balls and ran her finger up and down the under cord of his cock, causing it to jump as she hit the sensitive spots.
Then she let her tongue tickle the same areas, not vet touching the throbbing head. She was teasing and enjoying it. John lay and moaned softly as she licked on him and from time to time he would give a little jump as she hit a particularly sexy area. He let his hand wander down to the back of her neck and began to slowly massage her neck and shoulder. Susan reacted by moving in closer on his huge cock. She began to lick around the head, letting her tongue run under the curve of the head and then up to the opening on the tip where she lingered as her tongue explored the opening.
John was moving under her. He was enjoying each delicate touch of the soft pink tongue with the little taste buds giving an ever so delicate sense of friction. It was an erotic delight to John and his reactions only tended to make Susan hotter. She let her lips encircle the head of his prick without going down on it. Just let the lips linger and as she tightened-up she started a quivering motion with the muscles of her mouth that drove John to moans of pleasure. He tried to push her head down on his cock but she resisted. She continued to linger on the head of the meat and she began a slight sucking motion, letting the tip of her tongue quiver as it inserted slightly into the opening of his penis. John knew he could stand little of this before the orgasm came racing up.
John began a rotating sexual movement under her hot mouth. As he squirmed in rhythm Susan began to take a little more of his prick into her mouth. She slowly got the head entirely inside her hot orifiace and began to suck on the head as a child with a lollipop. John could no longer stand it. He grabbed the back of Susan's head and continuing to rotate, forced his cock down her throat. She gagged but he hammered home at her. Each thrust up caused Susan to gag and pull back but when John gave three or four rapid thrusts and then relaxed he let his cock pull back until the lips of Susan's mouth was just around the head and then he erupted. Wave after wave of hot sperm shot out as she tightened her lips around the head and not a drop was lost. Susan just gulped and swallowed as she sucked furiously on the head of his pulsating prick. John lay there in another world, sinking into sleep, slowly but surely, as Susan drained him completely. Soon Susan fell over and slept with him.
CHAPTER TWO
It must have been the flight or the sex in England, or the sex on the plane, or the sex in the hotel-or a combination of all these. Because Susan and John slept for 36 hours. They had left a don't disturb sign on the door-and no one had disturbed them. When Susan awoke it was evening-perhaps eight o'clock. It was dusk out but not dark. Summertime in the early evening is always so dreamy and drowsy on the continent.
A twilight glimmer pervaded the room, giving it a musty old-world charm and beauty. Susan beheld her surroundings, in somewhat of a daze, and let her eyes wander, not certain where she was-or even who she was. She caught sight of John. He had a quilt and was rolled up like a ball on the floor. It startled her at first and being startled she was jolted back to reality.
I wonder how long I've been asleep, she wondered to herself. All day I suppose. John was snoring and she thought how cute he looked cuddled up on the floor like a little boy afraid of the dark. Men. They really are only little boys. No matter how grown up they still can't resist all the little temptations and adventures of a young lad. She smiled and stretched. She still was dressed but she was disheveled.
Stretching, she raised up on the side of the bed and felt dizzy for a moment. Sleeping so long that way makes one light-headed when they get up. Reaching for a chain by the bed, Susan snapped on a light and looked for the clock. It was almost nine.
"My God," she said aloud, "we've slept all day." Turning she spoke to John, "John honey, wake up. It's night already."
John grunted and rolled over, forming a ball in the other direction. Susan smiled.
"Okay," she said. "You sleep a while. I'll use the bath now and we won't get in each other's way." She stood up unsteadily from the bed and made her way to the open window. There was a breeze blowing in off the lake. Susan stood by the window, the light wind playing through her black hair and fluffing it. She held her head high and back and breathed deeply. It was fresh clean air. "Ahh," she murmured. "Los Angeles was never like this. I may get drunk on atmosphere." She laughed a little and turned, starting for the bathroom. John still lay on the floor, snoring now.
As Susan lathered her body she wondered if Erik had phoned. Dammit, why did she keep thinking of him all the time? Was it true that Germans are lousy lays? She had always heard how cold they were. Well, she intended to find out. It would cither be Erik or someone else. She really wanted to have a lour way with Erick, John, herself and Frieda.
But it would have to wait a bit. She suddenly remembered their promise to Angelle. They'd have to call Angelle's friends and see about the German Angelle's Rest.
Susan had bathed and was powdering her nude body when John made his impish appearance at the bathroom door, beaming his smile in her direction.
"Hi sweetie, what's for dinner?" He looked down to her tuft of curly black pubic hair, still grinning.
"Oh, you men," she replied, faking as if to cover up. "It isn't Friday so no fish."
John laughed, entering the large bathroom and slapped her on the ass. "It may not be fish day but with those butterballs who cares." John was at his best, in a frolicking gentle mood. Susan liked him like this. With the infectuous grin, the happy-go-lucky attitude and out to have fun.
"What's on the agenda for the evening, I might ask, my husband? I feel like I haven't eaten for two days. I'm famished."
John stepped into the shower and answered her over the roar of the water, "You should be hungry-You haven't eaten for two days. I just checked with the room clerk. They were starting to worry about us. We've been sleeping since yesterday morning."
"You're kidding," Susan suddenly felt so rested that she knew she could go all night now without batting an eye.
"Nope," John replied. "You must have put a sedative in that head job. I might put you to work rolling millionaires. Couldn't miss with your technique."
"Stop it," Susan pouted. "You're just putting me on."
"Why don't you check with the room clerk and find out for yourself. You might also ask if there have been any calls. I forgot to ask. I was only checking to sec if the time was right."
"Okay," Susan replied, "but who would be calling us so soon. Who knows we're here?"
"Well, you might start with Erik," John smiled.
"I hadn't given it a thought," Susan said airly and knowingly. "But I'll check just in case." She left John to his shower and went to the phone by the bed.
She ordered coffee and toast and then asked for any messages. Yes, there had been a call from Erik and Frieda, earlier in the day. Also a call from Bruno Baumgarten.
Susan asked the clerk, "Bruno who?" He repeated the name.
"Did he leave a message or number? Or did he even say what he wanted?" Susan was baffled. She knew no one by that name and she was sure John didn't either.
The clerk answered, "Mr. Baumgarten left his number and said you had met him in England. He only arrived here today."
"Oh, I see, Yes, I'm sure I know who it is now. Thank you so much and please hurry the coffee." She hung up phone and slipped on a sheer negligee. Then she went to a dressing table and brushed her long black hair vigorously. Susan wore little make up. She didn't need it. Her skin was like cream and she only wore a light lipstick and makeup to accent her eyes. She was what is often referred to as a raven-haired beauty.
Her full breasts bulged against the soft material of her thin garment. She posed before the mirror, first sideways and then full on. I have one hellova good body, she thought. No wonder men go for me the way they do. I don't blame them. She laughed a little to herself, positive and confident in her charms and abilities.
By the time John was getting out of the bath, having shaved and showered, there was a knock at the door of the sitting room and Susan went to answer it, closing the bedroom door behind her.
She opened the door and a handsome young German lad appeared with a tea cart and the coffeee and toast. He just stood in the doorway, with his mouth agape and face flushed purple.
"What's the matter?" Susan asked. "Are you ill? Please come in." She was concerned. She couldn't imagine what was the matter with him.
He gulped, "Yes madame. Your food." He pushed the cart into the room and began setting up two places at the table. Susan watched him and she caught him glimpse at her and then turn his head quickly back to his work. He dropped a spoon, then a cup.
He looked quickly to Susan and apologized profusely for his clumsiness and blushed again. Susan wondered how old he was. She asked him.
"I'm nineteen, Miss, I attend the University during the day and work here at night. I'm sorry to be so awkward. Usually I'm not."
"Nineteen. My, but that's a wonderful age. Do you have a girl friend?" She asked quite candidly?
"Not really. I know some girls, but I haven't much time for girls with school and work." He was trying to rush but it seemed as if he fell over himself.
"No girls? I'd think you'd have every American tourist female chasing you. Do all German boys speak such good English?"
"Oh no. My father was an American soldier. I lived in America for a long time and after my father was killed in an accident, we-my mother and I-came back to Germany to live."
"Oh. When was that?" Susan asked, curiously.
"When I was about ten I think." He was extremely slow towards Susan.
It dawned on Susan like a thunderbolt. She had completely forgotten about the negligee. She had nothing on under it and it was hanging loose. Her breasys bulged out and her pubic mound and lover seat were staring the young fellow in the face. No wonder he was so frustrated.
She barely pulled the strings around her waist, letting him see the action as she did so. She left the front open enough to be too revealing. It was deliberate, of course.
"You should have joined the diplomatic corps," Susan parried.
"I beg your pardon?" He questioned.
"Oh, it's just that you remain so cool under fire. Do you understand what I mean?" Susan could be as blunt as hell. How could he not understand what she meant.
"I think so Miss," he edged toward the door, "but we aren't allowed to consort with guests!" He blurted it out and ran for the door. Before Susan could say anything in defense of herself he was gone.
When John came in from the bedroom Susan was leaning back on the couch with her negligee open again, roaring with laughter.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "Did you just lay the manager for the bill?"
"Oh, no," she was convulsing, "better yet. I got turned down by a bell hop. You know what he said?" She had tears streaming down her face, "he said he wasn't allowed to 'consort' with guests." She was breaking up. She grabbed her sides. "I hurt all over. It hurts to laugh like this." She was trying to gain control and her tears and laughter subsided somewhat as John began pouring his coffee.
Susan wiped her eyes with a tissue as the last vestiges of her convulsive laughter died away. "I don't know what's happening to me lately," she said. "It seems that everything in pants becomes a challenge to me. I wonder why that is?" She said it half in jest and half seriously.
"Oh, I think you were always that way. It was because of me that you held back. You were afraid of my opinions and afraid it would wreck our marriage-and it would have before we wnt to Paris. Robair and his doctor friend really straightened me out. I'm grateful that they did. Now we have each other and a lot else. Who could want more?" John had come of age in the past few weeks. He had become perhaps even more sophisticated than Susan.
He understood that Susan was tremendously oversexed. He could never satisfy her in bed-not as often as she needed it. No man could keep up with her demands but he felt as long as they both understood this then they would have no more serious marriage problems. Their big problem, he thought, would be their friends and family when they got back to the States. He could just hear his mother now. Boy! They'd have to move a continent away from his family. Anyway he wouldn't have to worry about hers. They lived on the East Coast.
"I guess maybe you're right," Susan poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with a piece of toast poised in the air. "Did I ever tell you some of the things I did when I was a kid?"
"Like what?" John asked.
"Oh, like the time my brother caught me screwing a billy goat and then raped me." She said it all very matter-of-factly, as if it happened to every young farm girl.
"Would you say the punishment fit the crime?" John asked, not the least bit perturbed. He had, in fact heard the story before-but not from her. Her brother had told him and John had busted his mouth and called him a liar. Now he believed it. His Susan had or would try anything-at least once.
"Well, he hurt me," she replied. "I was just a young girl-innocent and protected. I didn't know anything about sex and my brother was built like a stud horse."
"What about the goat?" John smirked at her. "What was he built like? A dog?"
"See how you are? You're not serious. That goddam goat got my cherry. I was afraid to try it with a boy. I was afraid someone would tell on me."
"Boy, that ought to make a good story for believe it or not. I'll bet you're the only girl in the world who lost her cherry to a goat. Which did you find more satisfying," John said, grinning like a possum, "the goat or your brother?"
"I'd have to say the goat seemed more appreciative. The goat didn't threaten me-and he didn't kick me either. He was one damned nice and grateful billy goat."
"How did he do it?" John asked, putting her on a little but at the same time he felt weirdly interested in the details.
"Oh, I had a time getting him started. He wanted to nuzzle me with his nose. He sniffed a long time before he knew what it was. I was young and I guess young pussy don't smell like it does later." John laughed. "No, silly, I don't mean stink. I mean it doesn't have that female odor that attracts a male. But he was a good goat. He let me slide the shaft back and forth over his prong and it didn't take but a minute for it to get throbbing hard. I tried to have him mount me from the front but his goddam front legs were as hard and stiff as his prick. He couldn't seem to bend at the knee joint.
"We were in the barn so I got myself draped over a bale of hay and pulled him up over my hindside. Right away he locked his front legs around me but he still wasn't getting anywhere. He had to get higher or I had to get lower. He was just hunching and getting nowhere but more excited."
"What did you do?" John Prodded.
"Oh, I finally slid down a little and with my hand behind me I got hold of his shaft. The thing was sticking out of its sheath and it was slick. It didn't scare me a bit. I just got more excited. Anyway, I ended up on my hands and knees after I got him started. I just got the point of it inside my hole and he took over from there. He gave a couple of hunches and I could feel the blood stream down my legs. I knew I was no longer a virgin and he rammed it home so hard and so fast that I had my first orgasm in a streak of blinding light. I was filled with with pain and agony and ecstasy all at the same time and when that goddam goat had his climax I swear his prick swelled up double. He filled me with a cup of hot goat juice. The pressure was crazy and I must have blanked out just screaming and panting."
"Wow!," John replied, "what a way to lose your cherry. I'll bet a lot of girls really wish they could have had that kind of a thrill. Most of them, from what I can gather, usually hate the man who does it. Men get so eager they forget that it is her first time." John understood that. His sister had married such a man and had always hated him because of his brutal attitude about the sex act.
"Oh, I enjoyed that part. But my screams attracted my brother and he saw the goat with blood all over it and me rumpled up in the barn. It wasn't hard to put two and two together and find that he had one hellova good compromising situation. He screwed me like I was some kind of mare. And he called me dirty names while he did it. I hated him but I enjoyed his language. I must have been born for sex. Don't you think so?" She was actually serious with the last question.
"Honey," John answered, "if there had been no sex when you came into this world I'm sure you would have invented it. That's how sure I am that you were made for sex. He patted her hand. "There's one thing I'd like to know, though, if you don't mind telling me."
"What's that?" she asked. "I'd think if I told you about a goat getting my cherry I'd damned near tell you anything wouldn't I? After all, you are my husband."
"Was that the only time you ever made it with your brother?"
"Hell no. That son-of-a-bitch never let me alone after that time. He had a good thing going and he knew it. He never used any protection and I'd have to sneak around and douche in cold water down by the creek to keep from getting pregnant. Mama had some powders she used all the time. I remember hearing her tell Papa once that she'd never have another baby as long as she had that powder.
"She was always wondering why it vanished so quickly but she never thought it was me. I'll never forget those ice water douches in the winter time. And my brother had other weird ideas. He used to bring some of his friends around to try me out. He always said he was trying to find out if they had ever had anything better and if they had he wanted to know who it was so he could go screw them, too. They always said I was the best. I guess I was, too. You should have seen the selection of country sluts they had to choose from. Ugh.
"But anyway, that's another story. I'll tell you about it sometime. Right now I'm famished. Let's get dressed and go somewhere. Oh, I almost forgot. Remember Bruno Baumgarten, the friend of Angelle's? He phoned us. I think we ought to call him. I'm sure he'd know the best places to go-where we could have fun."
"Okay by me," John said, "but I'm looking forward to the next chapter in the sexy life of young Susan, country girl."
CHAPTER THREE
Susan and John had dinner with Bruno and a friend of his named Sonny. They found out rather quickly that Bruno was a bi-sexual and Sonny was his male companion, sometimes lover and sometimes partner at orgies. Dinner had been very interesting and talkative. Much was discussed about Hamburg, about Germany and the sexual habits and appetites of the German.
John found it interesting that the discussions of sex in Germany were quite frank and that Bruno felt no remorse or regrets because of his own situation. As a matter of face he seemed to think that it was the Americans who had all the wrong ideas on sex.
He explained it to John and Susan, "In America you do very little out of the ordinary and yet you make such a big thing out of sex and fidelity and the guilt feelings of sex. Here, especially in Germany, we do what we feel satisfies us but we don't later feel guilty about it. You are somewhat of an exception in that you and Susan are a-ware of each other's needs and desires and you respect it but the average American does no such thing. They sneak about and cheat and act pious and hypocirtical. By any definition that I know the difference would be that Europenas are sophisticated while you in America are quite amateurish and rural."
Susan reflected quite seriously on Bruno's statement. It made a lot of sense if you took into consideration all the people you knew but it certainly didn't apply to her and not to John anymore. But she understood what he was talking about. But she had to make some defense. She said, "I don't know, Bruno, it seems to me that we have in abundance in America whatever it is you have here."
"How true, my dear," Bruno replied raising his finger to make a further point, "but like so many other things in America you think only in terms of quantity-not quality and certainly not taste. You are the most vulgar of people and yet you think that wealth and things-yes, things-make you superior in all things, including sex. Truth is, the exact opposite is the case."
Sonny had silently listened most of the time during dinner. He sipped at an after dinner drink and suddenly spoke up, "Here it is customary for a man to have a wife and a mistress or even a lover. We understand such things. In America you expect total fidelity but you don't always practice what you pretend to profess consequently you are always in hot water. What I mean to say is you do not allow a human being to be human."
"Are you married?" John asked of Sonny.
"Not at the present, no. But I have been married-to an American girl, unfortunately."
"Why unfortunately?" Susan asked.
Sonny shrugged. "The American double standard. She was terribly jealous and possessive but thought nothing of sneaking around with another man when my back was turned. She didn't have to sneak. She could have asked me or told me-it wouldn't have mattered, but she chose to sneak. I didn't understand this operandus modi at the time so I met a girl and I spent a week-end with her. Lou Ann, my wife, created a terrible scene and walked out. After thinking it over she wanted to come back. I confronted her with her own actions and of course she at first denied them. Then she tried to justify it by saying she didn't want to hurt me. It was all so phony. I really don't think she would have left had she known that I really wouldn't have had her back. But it was too late then. I think she went back to America. I don't know. I am quite happy sharing Bruno with his wife."
Susan wasn't used to this sort of situation-To her a homosexual was a homosexual and a man was a man. She stared at this strikingly masucline man and then at Bruno. It was hard to relate the two, especially with Bruno married and she wondered who did what and with whom. "How does your wife feel about 'sharing' you with Sonny?" She turned to Bruno.
"It is nothing," Bruno replied. "It is not flaunted. There is no need to make an issue. She is deprived of nothing and she knows she has nothing to lose. We have been married for a long time."
Burno decided he would try something different. Their conversations were getting into a rut and into an area where words were only weapons, not instruments of conversations.
"Have you ever been to one of our mixed clubs?" He asked the question of both Susan and John.
John look askance at him. Susan queried, hesitantly and with an obvious uncertainty in her voice. "What, exactly, do you mean by 'mixed?'"
John, grinned at her question and looked toward Bruno and Sonny.
Sonny only shook his head as if in sympathy for a lost cause.
Bruno replied, shrugging his shoulders, "Ah, you Americans. So full of being taught but never learning. So always and forever suspicious. I think you would call it a Bohemian Club. There are many in Hamburg. Men go to them with their wives or mistresses or lovers-or any combination of these. It is all quite exciting and truthfully many go just to see or be seen." He looked directly into Susan's eyes and she felt uncomfortable. It didn't seem to her that he had any ideas other than mixing it up between the two of them. That suited her fine, but why all the mound about way of doing it.
She stared back at him in like manner. She thrust out her chin as she returned the challenge. "Sounds like a freak show to me-and I love freak shows. Let's go." She shifted her gaze to John, looking for approval. He shrugged and nodded assent.
So the four of them-Sonny, Bruno, John and Susan-crowded into the small foreign sports car and with Bruno behind the wheel they sped off into the night with a screech of tires and joined into the nigh time traffic along Der Alster and crossed the bridge towards the Ginza. It was a lovely evening. Cool, slightly breezy and stimulating. Susan made up her mind she would like to watch Sonny and Bruno do something together. Now she would have to figure a way to do it.
The idea of a man having a male lover did something to John. Morally he always had been taught that there was nothing more degrading then being tagged as a "queer". Vet, when he had been in Paris and the giant negro had screwed him rectally he remembered what a thrill it had been. Although there had been a girl in the act, too, it had nothing to do with the great negro thrusting his enormous rod into John-again and again. Even Su Ling, the Chinese girl who bathed him later, asked if he didn't enjoy the act.
On top of all that he really didn't care if Susan made it with another man. Yet he enjoyed having sex with his wife now more than he had ever before. It was all so weird to him.
The club was called the Blue Ship at the front entrance a beautiful boy was stationed on one side of the door and an equally beautiful girl at the other side. There was one thing different about the situation, though, that held great attraction to anyone knowing that one was a boy and the other a girl. They looked like identical twins. Each had on white duck sailor pants and a blue and white middy blouse. Each wore white shoes and each had hair that fell almost to the shoulder but not quite and not too curly. Very Germanic blonde and uniform. With blousy blouses it was difficult to know which had boobs and John almost reached out to touch and find out.
The two were beautiful-although they were not identical twins. They were not even related. It was the power of suggestion because of their dress. John asked Bruno which was the boy and Bruno pointed out Hans to him.
"This," said John rubbing his eyes, "is like having double vision."
"Here, let me show you." He ran his fingers through the hair of the one at the left of the door. "This," he laughed, "is Hans. I can tell by the lump on his head. I think he got it playing soccer." He laughed. "And this little bit of loveliness," he placed his hand on her shoulder, "is Gretl."
"Hans and Gretl?" John asked, in an amused but surprising tone
"Exactly. They call themselves the 'Unisex'. You know, one universal sex on the surface but underneath...."
"Viva underneath," John answered. He suddenly wondered why he should be thinking of the boy when he said that. What a trip this had turned out to be. He would probably spend the next five years on some analysists couch when he got back to California.
Susan finally got a word in. "How cute. How perfectly devine and cute. His and Her love children." There was never any contemplating what Susan would do or say. Today it was how cute. Yesterday it could have been equally how revolting and tomorrow she might even say, "So what?"
Once inside the elegant club it was a revelation. No expense had been spared to make the club a show place and to Susan it was obvious that tourism was the bulk of their business. There were a lot of Americans in the club and she noticed right away two American girls smooching in a corner booth. An older American man was holding hands under the table with a beautiful young German boy. The young boy, on the other hand, was staring down the bosom of a very busty girl sitting at the next table.
Bruno obviously knew everyone in the place so far as employees was concerned and also he seemed to know many of the customers. She gathered he must come here a lot. She wondered if he ever brought his wife here and if he ever brought her here together with Sonny.
They were given excellent seating. There was to be a floor show and their table was right on the edge of the stage.
There was a five piece combo playing American Rock music and Bruno told them that the band was interchanged with another group which played cocktail music. In that way they managed to maintain both the adult and the young audiences.
Susan said, "I think that's marvelous but I'm really surprised to see so many young kids drinking. Do they pay protection here?"
Bruno looked at her rather strangely, "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh, I guess you wouldn't call it that. I mean do they pay the police off so that these young kids can come in and drink without getting the place into any troubles?"
"No, not that I know of. Why should they?" Sonny asked.
"But," Susan sounded somewhat frustrated trying to make herself understood, "isn't there an age limit for drinking alcholic beverages?"
"Yes, certainly," Bruno answered. "One must be sixteen. It is a little enforced law in some areas, I might add. I have seen those that are 14 and 15 drinking in some places. Not here, though."
"Sixteen!" John almost whistled it out. "It is almost unbelieveable. In America to drink anything you must be 18 at least and in most places the age is 21."
Bruno laughed. "You people are much too biblical Or might I say falsely religious. In Germany you can serve alcohol in the home at any age. Things of that nature are kept in perspective. We are not yet the hypo-cirtes that some of your people are. We know what young boys and girls do. We try to prepare them to be like their adult counterparts for after all that is what they will soon be. Adults. So why shouldn't they have some training."
The bands changed and the older man with the young German boy got up and extended his hand to the boy. The lad joined him and they danced out into the center of the floor. Other couples were getting up to dance. But John just couldn't take his eyes off the young German boy and the older American. He was jealous of the older man. Why wasn't he dancing with the boy. He just shook his head.
"Something bothering you?" Susan asked.
"Hub? Oh, no. No, nothing at all." He would like to tell Susan about it but he would wait until later. There had been too much talk already this evening.
Susan quite bluntly said to Bruno, "Do you dance?" and before he could answer her, she .continued, "Let's dance."
"Of course," Bruno said and he stood up and held her chair as she arose. They dance and as they danced she could feel his masculine presence gaining on her. He seemed to permeate her being with his male aroma and she cuddled close to him with her head against his broad chest.
Bruno responded by letting his arm grip her tighter aroudn the waist as he pulled her to him while they danced. She gasped a little and he smiled to himself.
After they danced for a moment or so Bruno said in her ear, gently, "There is a more private part of the club. Would you like to see it?"
"Oh yes." She answered much to quickly and she knew it. "I mean," she slowed up somewhat, "if it is all right. Do they allow strangers to visit the private part of the club?"
"Yes, if the stranger is with me. I am what you Americans call a 'charter member.' I got in in the beginning. This is one of the places that Angelle was interested in when I spoke with her in England. This club fits into her picture of a Continental Enterprise for Angelle's Rest. She could afford such a place and in having it she could afford others. She has a knack for making money."
"Yes," Susan answered, "I noticed how fabulously her place in London operates. She knows what to give a person for his money and her club members support the place loyally."
"For one reason," Bruno cautioned, "she gives them what they want. If she let her own desires interfere with what the customer wanted she would go out of business. The owners here are two perfectly straight individuals. They, too, have sense enough not to let their own sexual tastes interfere. They have a couple running it for them. Marcel is a bi-sexual and Alyce is a former prostitute. She will go anyway for money but the point is she understands the freakishness of the human race and that's what she gets paid to cater to. But come along, let me show you."
As they danced across the floor to the edge of the room Susan sought John out with her eyes to let him know she was going but John was holding Sonny tightly in his embrace as they moved slowly to the music on the dance floor.
"Oh well," Susan shrugged, "when in Rome...."
"I beg your pardon?" Bruno asked.
"Oh it was nothing," Susan looked up to him and smiled into his tanned face, "just a daydream of mine. I sometimes think things out loud."
"That, my sweets, could get you into a lot of mischief." He winked.
Susan laughingly chided him, "We mustn't assume that I invite men into my bedroom that way. That would be no daydream."
Bruno slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hall.
They were met at a huge oaken door by another boy in the same garb as the doorbody and girl. "How are you Bruno," the boy smiled.
"Fine Robbie, just fine. This is Susan, a friend of mine from America. She is anxious to visit the club rooms and see what military secrets we Germans are harboring behind the thin walls of security."
The boy grinned and bowed. "Certainly." He opened the door with a large antique key that Susan thought must weigh at least a pound.
The door creaked when he swung it open and Susan likened it to the creaking doors of old casteles in romantic novels she had read as a young girl. On the other side of the door was another young man, similarly dressed. He was a more swarthy lad and Susan thought he was an Italian boy. He was about 18 and his muscles rippled under the tight white pants. She knew he must not be wearing any underwear for his front bulged with a manly pride that made her quiver and yearn in the pit of her stomach.
When he spoke it was pure sexual urging. "You will disrobe and leave your attire here." He said it with matter-of-fact determination.
Bruno began to take off his coat. Susan looked first to him and then to the boy. It was dimly lit in the room after the door closed. Only wall sconce candles provided any light. Just like an old Moorish Castle, she thought. She at first hesitated to disrobe but the young lad stared at her with flashing black eyes that had a sinister twinkle of espectation. "Must I?" she asked of Bruno.
The lad answered. "It is the-rule of the house. No clothing is permitted beyond this point." And as if to anticipate her next reply he said, "and there is no return through this door. It opens only one way. See?" He pointed to her, "There is no handle nor any lock on this side. It is for the protection of our patrons. Enter one door, exit another."
Bruno was down to his shorts and as Susan reluctantly undressed she found the pace easier as she gazed first at the young boy and then at Bruno. Two totally different builds and types and she wanted to have them both. All she could think of as she dropped her panties was sex. To have a man in her. When Bruno took off his shorts she caught her breath. He stood there like a great God-like creature. His body was as tanned as his face-and all over. It meant that he had been doing his sunbathing in the nude. A thing that always excited Susan. Nude sunbathing was an aphrodesiac to her. It had always been since she was a young girl and caught a neighbor's husband sunbathing nude on a rock by the creek. She remembered it so well, something she hadn't thought of in years.
It had happened after her experience with the goat and her brother, so she wasn't any virgin and she hadn't been screwed for a while when she caught him.
The neighbor had been frightened when she came up to him. After seeing him there on the rock, so placid and beautiful, she had taken off her dress made from a flour sack with a flowered design on it, and sneaked down to the water and when he first saw her there she was standing ankle deep in water, naked as a jaybird smiling at him. He almost had jumped off the rock.
"Sit still," she had said. "I won't bite you. I just want to come up there and bathe with you in the sun." She had clambered quickly up the rocks to the big flat stone in the center where he now sat up, trying to hide himself from her gaze.
Even at that age Susan knew instinctively that she had to have men. In a sadistic way she had even enjoyed her brother in spite of his crudity. He filled her with his manhood and to her that was all about his that was worth anything anyway.
But this beautiful creature on the rock was something else to behold to the young girl so visibly disturbed by the opposite sex. She had reached out and touched at him. He had withdrawn afraid to run and afraid to stay still.
But there was no stopping Susan. She walked right into him and put her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to meet hers and covering his mouth with the most pasionate of kisses. All resistance was gone. She continued pulling him down until they were both on the rock together. His prick stood out like a statue of regulating law-a law that must be invoked. In this instance it was painfully and powerfully invoked and Susan's aching and throbbing pussy was the victim of this long arm of legal satisfaction, as it were.
She had no panties on and her dress was around her waist as she pulled him over on her. He was animal. All animal and she envied, oh, how she envied her neighbor's wife.
He hovered over her like a giant adonis dropped from a cloud into her waiting and anxious embrace. He was big, this stud-like country fellow. His cock was at least ten inches and Susan was not quite ready for what she received. It took him only seconds to rip away her dress top, exposing the even then voluptuous breasts that would someday become one of her trademarks. He sucked on the nipples roughly and she winced in pain. He bit at the nipples and let out animal means as he tasted the sweetness of her rosebuds. His manhood dripped with excitement and leaking sperm. He let it lay against her opening so that the premature emission moistened her hungry slit.
Then he entered her. The huge head of his prick forcing its way into her small opening as his tongue did the same with her feverish lips. He let his tongue part the lush red lips and cofered her mouth with hont angry kissed as his thrusting and throbbing cock angled into her cahsm. He let his body sway gently side to side as he gained leverage with his inserted prong. Susan felt the pains of muscles stretching as he probed ever deeper with his giant tool. She tried to moan-to scream out-but there was no place to moan. His mouth worked fast and furious over hers. His hot rough tongue engulfed the insides of her mouth as his prick inflamed her insides in another place.
Susan could remember the ending of it all so well. He had hammered at her until she felt the pain leave and the warm hot sensation of climax take over her being and thrash her nervous system against the rock on which she was receiving such a lambasting. She climaxed in a contortion of agonizing pleasure. He let her spasms come and go and come and go again. Her resistance had fled and she became his instrucment to do with as he saw fit.
He rose up, lifting her young pliable body with him and he turned her as easily as a pancake on the griddle. He was now behind her and in a position to ram it into her in the same fashion as the goat had done. He draped her limp body over another rock and spread out over her. His body covered her back completely and he began a long, low undulating movement into her. He would pull his big cock almost out, letting the head (which was enormous) rest just insde the lips of her vagina and then he would hold it there for a second. The he plunged deeply into her, like a rumbling freight train in the night-head long into the pit of her sex. In no time Susan was aroused again and panting in a madhouse throe of sexual entrapment. With each wild thrust she would rise and hump to meet him, caring not if he hurt her and not seeing or feeling the blood trickle down her white thighs.
When her climax came he was ready for her. It was what he had wanted. He drove like a power-hammer into her and as the spasms of joy convulsed her and her body began to jerk and tick and conscieness savered he unleashed his pentup floodtide of maleness deep inside the mystic crevices of her pussy. Wave after wave of hot salty liquid spewed forth from his iron manhood. She felt the hot liquid pour out-cascade out-into her quivering and dying pussy and the heat from his sperm kindled her mechanisms and again she began to convulse as passion rose and defeated her again. It was an almost bottomless pit into which she sank as he gripped her into the greatest feeling a woman can have-the tightness tentacled grip of a man blessing her with his manhood.
She clutched at Bruno, returning to the present, as a sexual nausea overcame her and she started to stagger. He held her and pulled her close to him. "Are you all right?" he asked tenderly, concerned.
"Yes. Yes, I'm all right." She tried to regain her composure.
CHAPTER FOUR
Although Bruno couldn't determine what was bothering Susan, he understood the warmth that emanated from her body against his own. It was a vibrant radiating warmth that reeked of sex and sexual desire. Well all things in due time, he thought.
"Come along," he slipped his arm around her nude waist as he spoke, "let's investigate what great mysteries lie ahead. He guided her down the dimly lit hallway. Susan still thought back to her teens when as a farm girl she was first introduced into the ways of adult life. How long it seemed since those days and yet it was as if it were all happening again. She had been so quick to grasp the sexual reality of life. She had instinctively known what it was all about and how to do it. Why? Even the animals knew she liked to fuck. Well, she was glad she was a girl. It made it easy for someone like her.
"Let's do a little peeking, shall we?" He asked the question but it sounded more like a pronouncement.
"Whatever you think," Susan answered, clinging to his arms as they stopped in front of a little green light. Bruno pushed a button under the light and a panel slid sideways opening a slot about sixteen inches long and approximately four inches high. It gave ample room for two heads to peek in at the same time and get a good view of the inside of the room. It was a two-way mirror and when the panel slid open the green light went out.
The slot was eye-level for Susan. Bruno had to hunch over to be able to see into the room. But the view was ample for both of them.
Inside the room a warm orange light was lit. It was another of the wall sconce types that lined the hallway ' and spread out over the room in a sunsuous raditation of filtered rays. A circular king-sized bed filled the center of the room. The sheet was of .black silk and there were four people lying perfectly still, side by side on the bed. There were two males and two females. One man about 35 was on the outside edge on one side of the bed. Next to him was a teenaged girl-about seventeen or eighteen. Next to her was an older woman-perhaps as old as sixty. And on the other side of the bed, a strappling young negro boy of 19 or 20. It was strange mixture of humanity.
Susan was immediately fascinated and interested. The negro was boy was built powerfully and Susan's animalistic instincts caused her to want him. But it was weird. No one moved. They all lay staring at the ceiling like zombies.
Susan whispered, "Can they hear us?"
"No," Bruno replied in a normal tone. "The room is heavily insulated, but you can hear them. Would you like to hear what happens as well as see it?"
"Oh yes," she answered, "But when does it all happen? They look like they are about to go to sleep or something."
"Have you ever heard of the Quakers?" Bruno asked Susan.
"That's a religious organization, isn't it?" she asked.
"Exactly. And do you know their basic philosophy?" They continued to stare into the room where nothing was
"No. I think we once had a president who was a Quaker. Herbert Hoover." She did remember that.
"Exactly. I understand he practiced the faith but he waited too long." Bruno spoke in riddles to her.
"What does that mean? Are you kicking America again?" She was irritated at his response.
Bruno laughed. "Not at all sweets. The Quaker belieft in religious services is that the congregation sits in stony silence at the meeting house until the spirit moves someone to action. As to Mr. Hoover there are those who say the spirit never moved him or he didn't hear the spirit when it called. Anyway, these people are what you might call sexual Quakers. They are waiting for the spirit to hit them. It may or it may not but if does then it is most interesting. Would you care to stay and watch this for awhile?"
Yes, she would enjoy that. She wondered to herself if she would be able to lay still for long waiting for something to motivate her sexually. She doubted it. She wondered what happened if one got the spirit and the others didn't It would be frustrating if the woman felt the urge and the man lay staring up at the ceiling.
They waited.
Meanwhile back at the table Sonny and John had finished dancing and sat across from each other sipping cocktails.
"Don't be so up tight, man," Sonny admonished John who looked very uncomfortable and awkward. "These people don't care what you do. It doesn't matter. As to the tourists they don't get in without a member escort."
"Perhaps," John answered hesitantly, "but it isn't every day that I get up and dance cheek to cheek with a man in a night club. As a matter-of-fact it hasn't been any day. It will take some getting use to." . Sonny reached across the table and placed his hand over John's. "Don't worry about it baby. Just don't you worry about anything. We're going to have a grand time tonight." He tried to make John feel comfortable. "Well visit the back rooms in a little while. It is very interesting there. Would you like to go to bed with me?"
"I, I don't know." John sputtered it out. "I am telling you the honest truth. I don't know. One minute I think I would like it The next I am repulsed. Can you figure that out?"
"Sure. That's easy. It is your total moral upbringing conflicting with your natural desires. The problem is that you consider your desires immoral. Why? Because all your life you're been told that anything outside straight boy and girl sex was bad and ugly and unacceptable. Isn't that right?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but yes, I guess it is right. I remember as a teenager my mother and father rapped me good because I made a friend of a kid I went to school with. He was very effeminite but it didn't matter to me. He was my friend. I heard that he was a faggot and that he was blowing everybody in school but never did he do anything out of the way around me. One of my friends told me that the kid was in love with me. If he was I'm not sorry but we finally had to bust up our friendship. My folks ran him off once when he came looking for me.
"But there were other things. My mother and father never let me forget that I had the responsibility of getting married and as they put it 'settling down'and raising a family. Grandchildren. That's what they wanted. I had to produce granchildren and it better be boys. I think maybe I got a complex about that because Susan and I have no children. We've tried but nothing happens. Maybe I'm psychologically sterile. Anyway, you're right to a degree. I was always taught that anything more than a handshake between men was sinful and even worse it was a crime against nature." John suddenly felt as if he was going through analysis and finding out that he was a human being for the first time. A human being who had been badly maligned as a child. He felt resentful. Resentful towards his parents and society in general. What right did they have to deprive him of a chance to know and understand what he liked or disliked in life. But something in the back of his mind reared up and said, 'caution old boy. Don't be overly presumptuous."
John pulled his hand away from Sonny's. "Pangs of conscience?" Sonny asked.
John grinned. "If I lack confidence then I'd say you have too much. I suppose one extreme is just as dangerous as another, isn't it?"
Sonny laughed a little with him. "Could be. Could be."
"But to answer your question," John said, "I promise nothing more than to go with you to the back rooms. What happens beyond that is a blank to me right now. Are you willing to take that risk? I could be violent a-bout it all you know. I'm not sure about my reaction." But John was lying. He knew he wouldn't be violent. He remembered Paris so well and if he ever intended violence it would have been then and he hadn't been. He had ended up quite docile and maybe even a little ashamed to see his manly front crumbled before the onslaught of the huge negro seducer.
"I'll gamble," Sonny said, sipping his drink and letting his eyes linger over the rim of the glass, catching John's in a fixed stare.
It was several drinks and some time later when John and Sonny made their way through the tables toward the same door where John and Sonny had watched Susan and Bruno disappear. John felt high. Very high but there was a sudden excitement in his loins as he followed behind Sonny. Sonny was built powerful and masculine but there was a feminine grace about his movements that excited something inside John. John kept saying to himself, "I must be a Goddam queer. Goddarm queer." He mumbled it.
"I don't understand what you're saying," Sonny turned around and asked John to repeat what he had mumbled.
"Oh, it was nothing," John spurted it out embarrassed that he had spoken aloud. "I was just thinking aloud. I'm sorry."
Once inside the dimly lit hallway John and Sonny were confronted with the same point of no return situation and the shedding of clothing; John was weaving and steadied himself against the door as Sonny helped him removed his pants and shorts. John's manhood hung heavy and thick and Sonny was excited by it. But when John turned around, as he stepped out of his shorts and Sonny saw the tight buttocks his excitement mounted. He could imagine himself mounted over John, demanding and getting pleasures yet giving the same in return. It reminded him of a young girl he had once screwed in the ass. The sensation had been the same before he did it. It was a new conquest and different. Boys, girls, what did it matter. Sex was sex and that was that. Just enjoy it.
They were assigned a room and a key issued them. The two nude men walked down the same hall as Bruno and Susan had before them. Only these two were not intending to watch someone. Their aim was eroticism and satisfaction-at any cost-and in anyway they could manage it. The walls would echo the agony, ecstasy and frustrated relief before the night was over. It would be an experience new yet old to John. His mental aberations would soon bear fruit.
Bruno and Susan continued their vigil. But their own passions were aroused long before anything inside the room behind the peephole. Bruno had turned on the sound speaker from the room and the heavy breathing was evident. Susan tried to distinguish who was beginning to become aroused in the room but although the sound of the breathing was heavy there was no physical evidence such as accelerated or pronounced visual chest rising. But the negro lad was getting an erection after almost an hour of watching. Susan had watched it come from a disappearing act between his thighs. It now lay evenly with his leg and long and straight as it endeavored to rise above his body. There was something about a big cock, no matter the color, that caused Susan to want to be attacked and attacked violently. Not only was she a Nymph but she entertained wild massochistic tendencies.
She glanced quickly down to Bruno's meat and saw that he had a stiff erection and he was no piker. His cock was big and as hard as his muscular body. It was meant for pleasuring and pleasure. She touched it and grasped the head with her hand. It was cool in the hallway and her hand was cool against the hot flesh of his prick. He reacted and she felt the sensation in her hand as his cock throbbed under her touch.
"Careful baby," he cautioned her. "You don't want it to go off until the spirit moves it, do you?" He laughed lightly.
"Oh, Bruno," she whispered, "it feels so good. I don't know how long I can wait. I'm going crazy watching the colored boy. If I was that old woman I'd be crazy with desire and be eating him up."
"I think he has it more in mind to be eaten down rather than up," Bruno jested with her.
Inside the room the young girl became restless and her body began a slow movement. It was not in rhythm-just a slow shiftless kind of movement, much like the untempo'd knocking about of a tumble weed on the western desert on a warm summer evening when the breeze comes up now and again and suddenly subsides. Something was stirring now in her and in the room and it would take a wind to fan the flames into a fire. There was no doubt in Susan's mind that the fire would come. She expected it to come over the scene like the fireballs she had seen in California when a firestorm started and went from tree-top to tree-top in great roars of devouring heat.
The other man let his hand rest on the young girl's thigh, near the pubic area. She moaned ever so lightly and then stopped. He let his hand remain and Susan could see that his fingers were beginning to knead the flesh on the girl's leg.
The old woman was like a wise old fish in a pond that had been there many years. It would take a lot of heat to move her out of her hibernation. The colored boy's heat was what would eventually reach her. His prick had risen even higher and Susan was reminded of the three-quarter position of the flag at Iwo Jima when the Marines placed the colors over Mount Suribachi. That was what his big black tool resembled-a flag pole at the three-quarter position and looking top heavy since the head was like a giant mushroom ready to burst in all its flowery velvet beauty. Brown velvet is what it looked like and she gasped, swallowing hard. Her thoughts were that she wished she were swallowing him. She wished she was swallowing every male that ever lived. She was truly hooked on sex.
She moved under Bruno, who was still hunched down in order to view the scene before them. Keeping her head next to his she came up under him with her plump bottom plopped right against his hard cock. There was no missing her intent. She wanted him to fuck her right there against the wall. She nestled her bottom against him, letting her legs part just enough for his prick to slide between her legs and stick out on the front side. She looked down at the head of his prick jutting out from her slit position.
"I feel like someone just before they change sexes," she whispered. "You know, the operations they give boys in Denmark to make them into girls. It is all so weird with my boobs hanging softly and your prick so hard and projected out from my body. I'll bet it would be fun to have another girl in front of me now." She giggled at her own imagination and squirmed.
She reached down and took hold of the protruding head of Bruno's cock and began to massage it. "Easy," he said, and placed his hand over hers to stop the action. "It will be over too soon if you're not careful."
But she continued to move and undulate and slide as much as possible over his cock. She pulled up far enough to let the head of his prick rest against her moist slit. She then spread her legs and nudged the head of his cock slantwise into the opening of her vagina. Bruno was breathing heavy and he knew it would all be over too soon if she didn't let up. But there was no letting up once Susan was started. The old itch in her crotch became a flame of passion and only the friction and evetual eruption of a man's steely prick could ease the itch. She panted and jabbed at him and even though the angle hurt her she couldn't stop. She bit his wrist and clawed at his arms. Her orgasm was oceans away but she tried to bring it on fast. It was no use. Bruno came up under her and shoved all the way into her hot and aching vaginal tract as his gun roared home its load. She felt the flood of hot liquid within her and when it was over she shook with desire that was not yet fulfilled. Inside the room she saw the negro boy place his big black hand on the withered breast of the old woman.
It was more than she could stand. The woman just lay there. Susan pulled away from Bruno. She hissed at him, "How do I get in there? Quick tell me. I can't stand it. How do I get in?" She clutched at his arms and shook him as she begged for the answer.
Bruno looked at her in a strange way. What kind of woman was this? No man could ever satisfy her. She could never stop at one. She would fuck the entire world if it was available.
He shook his head. "It is easy. Just walk in. No one will stop you. If the spirit has hit you then do as you will." He motioned to the door knob.
Susan dropped his arm and reached for the knob. It turned and she quickly entered the room. The door closed behind her automatically. Bruno watched through the glass. Susan raced across the room to the large bed and leaped astride the startled negro boy. She straddled him and plunged his long cock hard up into her, riding it down to the hilt. He grimmaced and she screamed as she rode him. But no matter how unorthodox her action it brought the room to life. Within seconds it was an orgy. It ended up with the negro boy hammering his big prick into the old woman while Susan had her legs locked around his massive neck and his face buried in her crotch. His tongue, almost the size of his cock to her, worked on her and tore at her insides with its hot thrusts of lust and desire. It was sexually comedic to see the old woman with her legs locked around his hard slender waist and thrusting up to meet his powerful drives. To him it was a novelty. He could always get a young girl but to find" an older woman so willing and anxious to please him and be pleased-so tight. Not too soft but somewhat leathery. The new kind of friction gave him added sexual pleasure and he beat horn a tattoo on her aging bottom.
The young girl and middle-aged man had the other side of the bed to themselves. It was like watching the old and the conventional compete with the new and different.
The trio of Susan, the old woman and the negro was new and unconventional and integrated and bridging the generation gap. The young girl and her bed partner were totally orthodox and without gimmick. He had her legs over his shoulders in a modern classic position and was pumping home in the conventional manner. Her means rose as she reached climax, time and again, and when Bruno left the window they were in the middle of a mass climax. He thought perhaps the Tower of Babel may have been a lot like that.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sonny and John found their room and entered. They ordered a bottle and some mix sent in. Both knew it would not be an easy thing at first so the crutch of alcohol and music was in full evidence. There were several music channel selectors and Sonny tuned into Afro-Cuban music. The beat and the drinks together should have the desired effect, he thought.
John lay nude on the bed with a tall drink in his hand. With a pillow propped behind his head he was in a half laying and half sitting position with Sonny beside him humming to the music. Little was said at first. John looked down his muscular body and was captivated by his own prick. There it lay, half hard already and yet he seemed to be repulsing something inside-something from out of the past that pointed a finger and said, "No."
John loved the-luxurious comfort of being able to just lounge in the nude with good music, booze and now the prospect of a new experience. New in the sense that he was about to be cooperative in the venture. Just one more drink, he thought and I'll be able to go the route. At least he thought he would. He still had to wait and see what would actually happen. What if Sonny tried something he didn't want to do. Would Sonny try force on him? Would they end up in a fight? John felt he would be ashamed if they did. Why go this far if not all the way?
Sonny had thoughts about it, too. As he sipped his drink he let his gaze also run up and down John's beautifully masculine body. But he noticed the smoothness of the body as well as the mascularity. John had very little hair on his body but that is something attendant quite often to being blonde. Nevertheless there was something definitely either feminine or childish about it. Maybe, thought Sonny, it is the little undeveloped boy that I crave. Maybe I have a desire for young boys. But I seriously doubt that. After all that enormous and beautiful phallus between his legs is far removed from being a little boy. No, I guess I just like the athletic type with a smooth body. I'm sure I would have been in love with the American Indian Brave who had little or no hair on his body and was as bronze as a body could get.
John noticed Sonny's gaze and felt naked and embarrassed for a second. "What are you looking at?" John blurted it out.
"You," Sonny replied. "Just you. I've never seen a man have such a combination of desirable features as you do. Your body is smooth like velvet, "he reached over and touched John, letting his fingers run across the chest and down John's stomach, "yes, like golden bronze velvet. I wonder how you can keep it so smooth and still have it so hard and muscular."
During this John's erection came up like the flagpole. There was no hesitation. The moment Sonny touched him he became erect. It was like a shot of Vitamin B-12. An iron injection that went right to his prick. He tried to remember how long it had been since a woman could do that to him without such little effort. It had been a while, yet he dug women. Anything else was a perverted pleasure. He knew that. No man could ever replace Susan. She was his everything. It didn't matter the things he did or she did or they did together. She was his woman and he was her man. He would probably explain a lot of his feelings about this to her later but only in the course of the two of them having been on an adventure. He would not tell her how much he enjoyed it, if in fact he did enjoy the whole thing. He would only relate that it had happened. There would be no sense in arousing her insecurities by telling her how fast he had gotten a hard on. Why make problems, he thought.
Sonny moved over closer to him and put his arm across John's stomach. He let his head nuzzle against the side of John's chest. John lay passive, tense and inwardly agitated and excited. He felt his blood pumping harder and it seemed as if his chest was pounding like a hammer. Was it his breathing or heartbeat? He wasn't sure. He was sure only that he wanted whatever was about to happen. Wanted it desperately.
Sonny ran his own smooth hand over John's body. Softly he let his fingers play across the hardness of Johns rippling muscles and let his lips make kisses on John's hot flesh. He let his tongue slip between his lips and touch John's skin. John flinched as the wet tongue touched him but he did not resist. The tongue was hot to him. Hotter than he was but to Sonny it was the other way around. He could feel the heat emanating from John's body.
Sonny raised up on one elbow. He let his head hover over John's chest and with his other hand he began to play with the tiny buds that were John's nipples. Sonny's excitement mounted and he leaned over John's chest, letting his tongue play around the hard little nipples. First one and then the other. He began a slight sucking motion on one of them and for the first time John let out an audible moan. It was a distinct moan of pleasure. Sonny's own maleness was erect now and protruded against John's leg. Both of them were hung without shame. Each would have been considered quite a conquest to anyone interested in the size of a prick.
John stirred in response to Sonny's actions and actually turned slightly sideways to face Sonny. Sonny took immediate advantage of John's movement and let his arm go around John's waist pulling him flat against his own stomach. They were belly to belly and their tools were side by side, erect and pointed upward toward their chests. It looked as if they could interlock quite easily and be hung up like dogs, but they didn't.
Their interlocking came much higher. Sonny sought John's mouth. John was actually drooling slightly at the corners of his mouth. It is not unusual for that to happen in the heat of exciting sex but John was aware of it and felt a slight pang of self-consciousness because of it. If he felt overly aware Sonny felt overly aggressive about it. He attacked John's mouth with his own moist lips and without mercy or manners quickly devoured John's sweet lips. He let his tongue shoot deep into John's mouth. John threw his arms around Sonny's neck and pulled him over tighter. It was an instant reaction. There was no thinking now on John's part. He was a total part of this thing now and he wasn't thinking about anything except the animal urge that impelled him from deep within his soul.
He kissed back and hard. He chewed at Sonny's lips and writhed about on the bed. Sonny's hand was running up and down John's body from the thigh upward and back. He let his fingers touch every sensitive part of the body and lingered around the head of John's prick. He felt the throbbing there and paused just to feel the sensation of the pulsating heartbeat within the hard prick.
Sonny pulled his head back from John's face and just looked at him. John had his eyes closed and seemed to be mesmerized in some far away dreamland. Sonny smiled down on him. They were still in a tight embrace. John opened his eyes slightly and smiled back at Sonny. "Would you believe I have never been in this kind of situation before in my life? I have kissed a man but that was in the throes of a three way sex deal with a girl. But never with such feeling as this. I think I could fall physically in love with you. I almost didn't come back here with you. You know that, don't you?"
"Um-hummm," Sonny answered, "but alcohol loosened up your inhibitions. You may have a terrible hangover later. I understand the basic cause of hangovers is guilt feelings. I must be totally corrupt. I never have hangovers."
Sonny let his head go down to John's chest again. The embrace was relaxed and Sonny went lower with his kisses this time. He let his tongue play around John's belly button and John moved to the touch on such a delicate and tender part of his body. Sonny's hand went to John's balls and he caressed them gently and with great finesse. Sonny knew what he was doing. Sonny continued to move around on the bed. He was in a position where John's prick nudged against his cheek but he let it rest there, throbbing, not yet taking it into his mouth. He played his fingers up and down the inside of John's thighs and the tender sensitive spots brought a reactive sound from John's throat.
Sonny was around in a position where his own hard cock was poking into John's chest. No effort was made to force himself on John that way. He just let it lay against John as he ran his fingers up and down John's cock, exciting him even more and finally he turned his head and let John's organ come against his moist lips. John knew where the head of his prick lay and he felt the moist and soft lips against it. It was almost too much for him. The sensation was like none he had ever felt before and his natural urge was to exert pressure from behind and the head of his cock then pressed harder against Sonny's mouth. Sonny parted his lips and let the head of John's prick come between the parted lips. He let the muscles in his lips work around the head of John's tool and the pressure sent John into moans of ecstasy. Sonny let his tongue slip under the head of John's cock and began a tickling movement.
John reacted to each new innovation as each movement on Sonny's part sent new waves of sexual sensation through his already demanding body. He wondered why he had never had such an experience with Susan. He must remember to ask Sonny if he had did this with a woman. John found his hand massaging Sonny's prick which was still poking against his chest. The skin was loose and slid up and down as John moved his hand back and forth. Sonny hunched slightly and took more of the head of John's cock into his mouth, tightening the muscles of his mouth as he did so, creating a slight vacuum around the head of John's organ. John's reaction was to kiss the head of Sonny's hard prick and Sonny hunched forward, parting John's lips much easier than he had anticipated. The head of Sonny's prick was now inside John's hot mouth and John's reaction was a sucking one. He sucked at the head of Sonny's cock as he would have sucked on the nipple of one of Susan's big breasts.
Now Sonny began to work in earnest on John. He let John's prick slide in and out and down into his throat, as he made swallowing motions each time John plunged deep. The swallowing motion created pressures on the head of John's cock and it was like screwing a girl with an extra tight pussy. He thought of a girl he had once made it with who was a virgin. He remembered that hammering at her hymen was like pounding against a brick wall. This sensation was the same thing. Sonny's throat and the swallowing movement was like virgin territory and John was in a throe of agonizing enjoyment.
John sucked hard on the head of Sonny's cock and he could feel his own thighs begin the upward surge of emotion that would soon become an orgasm. He knew the feeling. It was as if his insides clouded up and put on a great pressure play towards the head of his cock. It was almost more than he could stand. It made him feel as if the sides of his cock would split from the onrush. , Sonny sensed the impending orgasm and he shoved John over on his back as he sucked vigorously on John's cock. John wanted to resist but the sensation in his loins was beyond resisting anything. He tried to prevent Sonny from putting more than just the head of his cock in his mouth but he was on the bottom and helpless. His orgasm began to come and he felt the swirling of the room around him. Yes, he could actually feel the room reel about him and his slipping into oblivion. His climax surged from deep inside and the swelling of the head of his cock telegraphed the oncoming gusher to Sonny. He sucked at the head and then when the head of John's cock swelled until it seemed ready to burst, Sonny went all the way down to the root of his prick and John erupted into a violent gushing orgasm. His cock pumped forth the hot juices like an oil well erupting. Spasm after spasm erupted from his body and he jerked in ecstatic pleasure. At first taste of the hot liquid, Sonny plunged his own cock deep into John's threat and unloaded his own tremendous load. The hot liquid rushed down into Johns stomach without letup. Sonny was powerfully built and he held his cock deep until the spasms finally let up.
He had taken all John had to offer and enjoyed every minute of it. John, in turn, had lost all will to resist. He lay flat on his back, pinned there by Sonny, and exhausted.
Sonny let himself withdraw from John slowly as he continued holding John's cock in his own mouth, draining every drop of juice from him. As Sonny withdrew his prick had relaxed and it was now flaccid and chubby but not hard. He lay on his side and slowly let John's cock slip out of his mouth.
In seconds they were both sound asleep. Partly from alcoholic intake but mostly from sheer sexual exhaustion. Sex is at least as good a sedative as alcohol and some think it is even better.
Unbeknownst to either of them, Bruno stood outside and watched the act between John and Sonny. He was amused but jealous all at the same time. He thought of Susan and her attack on the colored boy.
CHAPTER SIX
When John and Susan finally got back to the hotel, totally exhausted but happy, there was a call from Erik and Frieda. They wanted to know if John and Susan would like to visit Berlin with them. The note asked them to call at their convenience.
Both were too high from drinking and too tired from sex to be bothered with phone calls right then. It was about four in the morning so they piled into bed and again slept late. It was three or four in the afternoon before they woke up and they indulged themselves by having aspirin, coffee and breakfast in bed-and in that order. True to Sonny's prediction, John had a hell of a hangover. His skull felt as if it was splitting open. He groaned and moaned and Susan placed cold towels on his forehead, babying him and sympathizing with his obvious discomfort.
They discussed activities of the past evening. John related part of what had happened with Sonny. Susan said, "I expected it. He had the hots for you from the beginning. I noticed it. I would have liked to watch it."
"Well," John answered painfully, "I'm glad you didn't. It was a disgusting sight. I can't understand why I let myself in for such a thing except for the fact that I was awfully, drunk, if drunk can be an excuse."
"They say that drink breaks down the inhibitions and brings out the true self," Susan said compassionately. "I don't know if that is true or not but if it is then I have a race problem. I was in an orgy with a colored boy-and you know I enjoyed it. He really enjoyed it too. I could tell. Now, how do you explain that? Liquor again?"
"No," answered John, holding his hand to the towel on his head, "there is an old adage a whore once told me. She said, 'if you haven't been fucked by a nigger you ain't been fucked.' And she had them lined up, paying plenty to get to her."
"Hmmmmm," Susan sipped on her cup of coffee, "she may have had something there. I think it could be sort of psychological though. You know, the idea of having someone a different color. Stories go around and if you listen to them long enough you get something out of them. I mean the idea that colored men do it better than whites. It is like saying that it changes a white man's luck to screw a colored girl. What do you think of that?"
"I don't know," John said. He remembered that he had once been screwed in the ass by a giant negro and although he fought he had felt tremendous satisfaction-especially the next day.
They spent a couple of hours in bed discussing the night before, Bruno, Sonny and their stay so far in Germany. Susan was completely honest with her experience. Women seem to have a degree of honesty when their sex activities come to the surface. She was sincerely looking for reaction from John and wondering what his opinion was of her actions.
John, of course, liked her honesty and he knew it was just that-pure honesty and he knew it was just that-pure honesty. But he didn't level with her. He told her only the parts that would make Sonny the aggressor. He tried to give the impression that he was totally passive and that Sonny worked him over orally-but nothing in reverse.
Susan let him feel that she believed him but she knew her husband. He was a highly passionate man and if Sonny made him feel all that good then he reciprocated. She was sure of it because Sonny also liked women and any man who likes women at all is not content to go to bed with another man and just blow him. He would have had to get some action on his own joint and Susan was sure John had reciprocated. But what the hell. If he didn't want to discuss it or wanted to pretend it didn't happen, she wasn't going to press for the details. Why should she? If it embarrassed him then she would only be embarrassing him more and be starting a big argument if she told him how she thought it happened. No, there were times when a woman was smart to go along with what her husband said even if she felt something else to be the truth. A woman lies for many reasons. But a man lies to his wife or to any woman, to preserve his manhood in many instances. She had no intention of trying to tear him apart. She loved him and their life together, in spite of the side show sexual antics, was a good one. She wouldn't want anyone else for a husband.
After a leisurely breakfast late in the afternoon and long discussion, Susan phoned Erik. He was delighted, he said, to hear from her and wondered why she hadn't phoned sooner. She told them of their visit to the Blue Ship the night before and he said he wished he had known they were going as he and Freida would have been delighted to have joined them.
She explained that they had gone with a friend, Bruno. It seems that Erik knew Bruno. He had met him several times at the club.
She said, "John and I would be happy to visit Berlin. We had hoped we might have an opportunity to go there while we were in Germany."
"Wonderful, wonderful," Erik answered. It would be nice to leave in the morning and we can enjoy a leisurely drive."
"Oh," she asked, "are you permitted to drive? I mean with the corridor and all, I didn't know it was permitted."
"Yes. Yes, we drive all of the time. It is not difficult for me. I have business connections in Berlin. As a matter-of-fact it is one of the few routes I make where I am not shaken down by customs officials. They know I would not trade in anything with the Commies. How would ten in the morning be for you?"
Susan asked John about it and he nodded approval. "That would fit out schedule well," Susan replied, "shall you come here to the hotel and pick us up?"
"Yes. We will arrive there about ten or perhaps a little after. Let us say a few minutes either way. Okay?"
"Okay. And say hello to Frieda for its, will you?"
"Yes. Yes, I will tell her you asked of her. Auf Wiedersahn."
"Goodbye." She hung up the phone and lay back on the pillow. Her memories of how handsome Erik was came back again. Maybe she would still have the chance to do something with him. She certainly hoped so.
She turned-to John, "How's your headache Sweetie? Any better?"
"Umhummmmm-mostly gone, I think. I guess I shouldn't let myself get interested in things that I have to get drunk to do. I'd rather do something I can do on my own without the alcoholic help."
He turned over towards his wife and pulled her to him and kissed her.
"John," she giggled, "I thought you had a headache."
"I 'had' a headache. Now I get an ache someplace else. Think you can help that as well as you did the headache?"
He took her hand and placed it between his thighs. There it was, riding high and hard as it had been the night before. Ready for action.
There was little fanfare. He took his wife in normal fashion but he was almost brutal about it. It was as if he was cleansing his soul and body of any stigma he felt from the night before and he did feel a stigma. He felt a remorse deep inside. The remorse was emphasized by the gnawing knowledge that he had enjoyed what happened with Sonny. If he had been revulsed by the action or hadn't participated so wholeheartedly he wouldn't have felt this need to shed himself of the memory. But the fact was that he had enjoyed it and he had participated fully so now he wanted to prove again to himself as well as his wife that he was all man and any deviation was incidental, not a way of life.
Susan had great understanding and compassion for her husband. She accepted his brutal onslaught with great gusto, faking two orgasms to go with the one real climax she had. She wanted him to feel that he was almost more man than she could take. She knew it was important for his male ego to conquer her completely that day. Oh, how she loved this man who rode her like a stallion with a prize mare. Her real orgasm came when he had his own climax and she no longer had to fake. She dug into his shoulders as he hammered hard against her bottom and then the floodtide ebbed and he eventually withdrew, feeling completely a man again-and she a woman.
They went shopping later in the evening, at some small shops that were near the Bahnhof (railroad station). Susan bought a lot of souvenir items to send or take home. She knew that both their families would expect gifts so they were taking the time to satisfy that aspect of the trip. Susan found a couple of things for their own home. She picked up an authentic Black Forest Cuckoo clock and a set of stainless steak knives with intricately carved bone handles.
After their shopping tour they took everything they had purchased back to the hotel and then decided it would be fun to go to a German theater and see a movie-an American movie-with German dialogue dubbed in.
"Why don't we grab a bite to eat near the theatre?" John said.
"Okay. I saw a Chinese restaurant across from the theater where Spartacus is playing," Susan told him. I think it would be interesting to hear a Chinaman speaking German. It sounds so incongruous. Would you like some chop suey?"
"Sure. Sounds great."
So they took a taxi to the Chinese restaurant. It was up a flight of rickety stairs and didn't look the least bit inviting from outside. They rather expected to find a greasy spoon type of hash joint but on the contrary they found once inside it was quite palatial and inviting. They were seated by a window overlooking the broad avenue below with the theater across the street. The interior of the restaurant was well appointed in Chinese modern decor and the service preceding the food excellent. They had several cocktails and the food was equal to any they had tried anywhere in any Chinese restaurants and that included the famous ones in San Francisco and Los Angeles.
After dinner they walked across the street to the movie house and sat down to watch the long running "Spartacus". Susan laughed until she was crying and no one knew what she was cracking up about. Even John didn't quite understand it. Although the picture was dubbed in German John failed to see what it was about the language that threw Susan into such fits of laughter.
Later she explained it to him. "I will never live to see anything as funny as Peter Ustinov making all the very effminate gestures and coming out with the very gutteral German expressions. I expected him to burst out in a great tirade of Latin or French. But German! And did you notice Tony Curtis? I'm sorry John, but that has to be the greatest comedy I've ever seen. The absolute funniest of all time. It made the trip worthwhile."
They packed a lot of things before they went to bed that night, leaving little to be done next morning. Both slept well and were up early and completed with the packing by the time Erik rang up for them.
They were happy to see each other and chatted mostly about the events that had taken place since they left each other at the airport. Frieda had stayed home most of the time with her semi-invalid mother. They had a house on the outskirts of Hamburg with the great woods and fields all around them. She enjoyed the country life but had to get into the city from time to time as country living, with all its great natural environment could get very dull and repititious without people and the only person she had outside her mother was the lady companion she hired to stay with her mother. There was a widower about a mile away who tried in his country was to woo her but she wasn't interested in his ideas of what a wife should be. He wanted a workhorse, not a wife.
Erik, of course, ever busy had been busy with his current ventures as he stated it but didn't express what that venture was. Susan suspected he was up to his ears in some kind of cloak and dagger spy work. Of course John had always said she had an imagination that worked overtime.
They stopped for lunch on the way and had hamburgers but not the kind you would imagine. When Susan saw the word hamburger on the menu she felt she knew what that was even if the menu was in German. A hamburger was a hamburger and she felt a little bit of home when she saw it on the menu. But when it was served she couldn't eat it and had to talk through Erik to finally get a German version of the American hamburger.
The true hamburger is raw ground beef. It was the last time Susan ordered anything without first asking for it to be described to her in English.
At the border with East Germany there was a great flurry of passport checking and a lot of formalities with the East German and Russian border guards but the car was finally permitted to pass onto the autobahn that connects West Germany with West Berlin. Susan remembered that as a kid there had almost been a war over the corridor to West Berlin. The American airlift had saved West Berlin. It have Susan an eerie feeling, traveling over this road that had been shut down so many times for little or no excuse. She would be happy when they reached West Berlin.
But their ride was uneventful. Erik and Frieda pointed out places of interest along the way although there was little to be seen actually close up from the highway.
Once in West Berlin the atmosphere changed almost completely. The people were friendly and happy. They didn't seem to be disturbed with being cut off from the rest of the world. They seem to have accepted it all as a fact of life and that was that. Susan and John were both impressed with the calm serenity on the surface in the Western portion of the city.
Erik had a friend, a famous dress designer, who lived in West Berlin and they were his guests. He gave Susan a beautiful original creation before she left Berlin to show his appreciation for the fact that she was an American. She had never been so proud of her country.
The first day in Berlin she went shopping with Frieda. They visited the big department store, Horn's and Susan bought a leather coat and skirt. It was very soft leather and of good quality. The price was ridiculously low compared to what she would have paid for it in New York or Los Angeles. It was explained to her that because of the Common Market the duty on these items had been removed and it was easy to sell at more attractive prices.
She purchased some sweaters for John He had always been a sweater buff and she found lambs wool and cashmere at prices she would have paid for a cotton sport shirt back home. She told Frieda, "I wish my family could see these prices. It is unbelievable to me that such good materials are so cheap. It is absolutely fabulous."
Frieda reminded her that the German Mark was also worth only one fourth the American dollar and wages were not that high so prices had to be in line or people wouldn't buy. It only seemed to be cheap because of the American dollar purchasing power.
Later, at the house, they discussed the Berlin Wall and East Berlin. Susan had seen the wall during the day and had been appalled by it.
Erik told her it was the best thing that could have happened. Berlin and the West German cause had received more sympathy throughout the world because of the wall than all else since the end of World War II. "No matter what the West Berliners do, the world cheers them. In this way the world is relieved of its guilt-and especially you in America-for letting the city be cut off at the end of the war. You know Americans could have prevented this-but they didn't. Now they cater to Berliners to appease their conscience."
Susan really hadn't thought that much about it but she understood what he was saying. "Is it possible to go into the Eastern Sector?" She had heard so much about East Berlin and the escapes and guards all over the place. She would like to see it for herself.
"Certainly," Erik told her. "It is almost a must for any American coming to Berlin. You will enjoy the Russian soldiers. They are quite handsome and they always have an eye for the American women. You will be amazed how much you can do in East Berlin as an American-especially as an American woman. I hope I don't exaggerate because it is unbelievable how anxious the Russians are to be like the Americans-and they start with liking the American girls. I understand that there is a great black market business with the Russian occupation troops for American nylons and other American feminine articles for the commissaries of the military in West Berlin. Many American soldiers make out with the girls in East Berlin because of bargains they make with the Russian guards at the border. Of course these things you don't hear of in the American press or radio-but believe me there is more diplomacy practiced between the military forces than through regular diplomatic channels."
"When can we go?" Susan was enthused. If it meant a man would look at her and want her then she wanted to go at once or sooner.
"Will tomorrow be soon enough?" Erik smiled knowingly at Susan.
"How about tonight?" Susan asked.
"Well, they don't usually allow visitors in the evening, but I'll see what can be arranged. Again you are lucky-you are an American."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Erik made some phone calls. It was no easy task to make arrangements for tourists to get into East Berlin on short notice. The East German regime was not given to light frivolity. It was a somber and staid government-on the surface at least. A lot went on in East Berlin that was anything but somber but on the surface the face of things was austerity and severity.
But Erik had his connections, thanks to his smuggling activities and narcotics connections. Although he had denied that he ever smuggled narcotics the opposite was the truth. He and Frieda were two of the most notorious spies and narcotics traffickers in Europe. They were known by all governments but the situation was unique as it always is with such cloak and dagger operations. They dealt with all governments so were given a rather free hand at traveling. The game was between the various governments who used their services. But they were professional and knew their business. It was one of the most exciting arrangements in all of Europe. Erik and Frieda, one an expert in narcotics and the other a master smuggler. Spies and narcotics and little did John and Susan know the deep involvement in which they were to find themselves. Favors do not go for free in Erik's business so the price would have to be paid somewhere along the line.
Susan was in deep conversation with Frieda when Erik came out into the garden and announced his news. "Aha," he exclaimed, "we have had some success. It is arranged for us to cross over into East Berlin at eleven o'clock tonight. There will be a guard change about that time and we will be permitted to drive through during the change. I have friends on both sides on both shifts so there will be no problem getting in. There is one thing, however," he hesitated before continuing.
"What is the problem?" Susan asked forthright.
"Well," Erik continued, "we will have to stay in East Berlin all night. There will be no way to return until the guard changes tomorrow morning or until officially it is all right for people to come and go with their passes. Is that all right with you and your husband?"
"Certainly," she replied. "I'd love to spend the night in a Communist country. How exciting. Maybe I will be able to spread some of my Capitalistic philosophy a-round."
Erik laughed. "More than likely you will do more for capitalism with your body than with your philosophy. The Russians would like to see more Americanism in their women. They are of course men and men like women to look like women-not tanks and unfortunately most Russian women look like a plow horse of the early 1900's."
"So we have a lot of time before we leave," Frida commented, looking at her watch.
"Yes," Erik said. "We could go out on the town, if you would like to. There are several places you might enjoy seeing."
"Oh, yes. I purchased a lot of new things today. Perhaps I could wear my new leather outfit. It has a miniskirt."
"That would be fine," Frieda interjected. "I can just see a lot of eyes bulging out when you corss into the other side. You have beautiful legs, you know. I'm sure you get a lot of compliments on them."
"As a matter-of-fact she does, "John said as he walked out into the garden of the luxurious home. "Are we to visit East Berlin?" He asked.
"Oh yes," Susan got up and ran to him excited. She threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, John it is all so exciting and dramatic. They are going to sneak us across the border in the still of night and we have to stay hidden all night until the sun is high in the sky. Just like in the movies."
"We must do what?" John asked.
"I'm afraid your wife is overly dramatic," Frieda stood up. Her breasts bulged and John thought she would be a knockout in a bikini or in anything revealing. She had a lot to reveal. "Erik has arranged for us all to go to the Eastern Sector tonight. We will leave the West at eleven in order to cross during the guard change. It is better to do it that way. Less complicated."
"But what does she mean that we have to hide out like refugees all night?" He sounded somewhat alarmed and as a matter-of-fact he was. They didn't know these people except casually and he knew how impressonable Susan was. She would take off with anybody in good faith and if she got into trouble she would never know how to handle it.
Erik put his hand on John's shoulder. "It is not all that drastic, my friend. We will make the rounds of a number of East Berlin night spots. Most places are under cover but they are under cover to the general public, not to the elite of the regime and most people know of the existence of such places but in a Communist country you do not critize what the wealthy and privileged do with their leisure time. We will have an excellent ime and by the time we are ready to come back it will be after daylight and I assure you all will be all right. You will not want to return before then. You will be amazed just how much there is to do in that so called dull city."
"Oh." It was all John could say. Erik made a slight nod toward Frieda and she came over to John and offered him a drink.
"Here," she cooed. "This will make you feel better and let you relax. There is nothing to worry about, believe me." She slipped her arm around his waist and led him toward a swinging garden seat. He felt her big breast against his heart and he sipped the stein of beer as he walked to the seat. They sat down and Frieda began to placate him.
She did a good job. She had his head leaning on her breast in no time and Erik winked to Susan. Susan only giggled and went inside to change into her new clothing before they departed for the evening and the experience that lay ahead of them.
While Susan was inside Frieda did all but let John screw her. She enticed and lured. She was an accomplished Femme Fatale and John was putty to her. But she rather enjoyed the assignment. He was a handsome, strong and virile American. She always had an affinity for Americans herself. Especially blondes. They seemed to be what Hitler had spoken of when he talked of the pure Aryan Race. An American atheltic blonde male was her idea of purity and she knew she would take John when the time was right and that's what it would amount to. She would take him and she would enjoy it. She was just too much woman for any man to subdue. She would be the seducer. But there was the matter of Susan first. She wasn't sure what arrangements Erik had made with the Russians about Susan but she knew he owed several high ranking Russian Officers favors and what a favor in return was Susan. She was sure Susan wouldn't mind it. She was about 90% nymph and 10% other kind of woman. It was the 90% that counted tonight.
It was still early when they left. John was heady with his beer and infatuation with Frieda. She had led him, without saying so, to believe that she couldn't wait to get him in the sack. He kept rubbing his pants trying to get the hard cock to go down but his rubbing only agitated it more so he spent the entire evening either hard or near hard.
Erik was more business-like as they made their rounds. Several times during the evening he spoke with different men in the shadows of a doorway or under a tree in the park. John was too engrossed in Frieda to see it and Susan thought it was all too clever. She was a romanticist and felt that after all it was a night to have fun and excitement and the more intrigue the better she liked it.
Erik and Frieda were excellent hosts, however. They took John and Susan to a lovely park-like area with a high spindle that housed a restaurant on top of it. They also went for a ride on a small lake and drank large mugs of strawberry beer which John said tasted like somebody spiked his soda. Susan thought that it was corny and Erik and Frieda failed to understand John's attempt at humor. But he did drink it.
After having dinner, dancing and making the scene at one club right after another Erik finally looked at his watch and said, "I think it is time to go now."
And away they went. John had a very sobering moment when he saw the Berlin Wall. My God, he thought, that haphazard maze of concrete and blocks is what almost caused World War III? I can't believe it.
And he had an excellent point. The Berlin Wall doesn't look like a wall at all. It looks like somebody's back fence who doesn't want to be bothered by their neighbors. The wall looks like a do-it-yourself job, done by rank amateurs-but it serves its purpose. Especially with the barbed wire extension across the top.
But they were not going to East Berlin to fight the cold war. They were going to find out if people really did enjoy themselves in the Eastern Sector.
It was turning into a bad night, weatherwise. Fog was settling in over the divided city and there was some drizzle in the air. Susan pulled her leather coat together at the collar and buttoned it to keep out the dampness but left it open at the bottom, exposing her min-skirt and about eight inches of leg above the knees.
"I will do the talking, if you don't mind," Erik cautioned them. "They know me. They will give you a cursory examination-orally, of course-and then we will be permitted to travel on. If you are asked any questions answer them simply and refer to me anything you are not sure of. Okay?"
It was okay with Susan and John.
They pulled into the one-lane driveway where the military personnel were on duty checking each other out as the shift changed. The American and English guards gave Erik a sharp look but ignored Frieda. A Captain came over to the car and put his head in. He spoke to everyone in general, "Good evening. Are you carrying any unauthorized items or personnel in your car?" He looked first at one and then the other, letting his eyes come to rest on Susan's open coat and pinkish legs.
Erik answered, "No sir. We are merely escorting American tourists."
The English Captain looked them over again and said with a shrug, "you may pass to the Russian-I mean East German checkpoint." He waved them on.
When the Russian and East German check came it was a production. They were obviously aware that a beautiful American girl was coining into the city and both the old shift and new shift of guards, plus some others were waiting when the car pulled into the check stand.
A Russian soldier, an enlisted man, came over to the driver's side of the car. On the other side an East German officer leaned in. John and Frieda were sitting in the back seat and Susan sat in the passenger side of the front. Erik, of course, was driving.
The Russian soldier was youngish, perhaps 20 or 21. He had sandy hair and green eyes. Quite handsome, Susan thought. She immediately did not like the East German Officer. He was cold, austere and his steely glare through horn-rimmed glasses gave her a feeling of being brutally attacked. She shuddered. He said nothing. But his stare was enough. She expected him to reach down and grab her leg, taking a hunk of it with his big fist but he just looked. The young Russian appeared to be somewhat embarrassed. He spoke in Russian to Erik who replied in the same language. Susan heard her name and America mentioned. The young Russian soldier smiled at her. His smile was warm and infectuous. She liked him and so she returned the smile. In acknowledgement he tipped his hand to his cap and spoke in German to the officer on the other side. When he spoke to the officer he spoke with the authority of a higher officer although he was only an enlisted man. He was Russian and one immediately knew who was in command of the city. The German officer withdrew from the car and the Russian soldier smiled again at Susan, taking in her legs again. She had managed to inch the skirt up higher and the edge of her lace panties showed just enough to whet the appetite.
He said something in German to Erik and then in good English he said, "I hope the lady enjoys her stay in Berlin." He made no reference to East Berlin. Just Berlin. That was the Russian tack-not to recognize that a West Berlin existed. But he certainly recognized the existence of Susan. She hoped she would see him again. He had perfect white teeth and a boyish smile. She wondered if he was built powerfully in the right places as he was in the shoulders.
So Susan's first encounter with a Russian had been a good one. With the East Germans she hoped that the people in general were warmer than the border guard.
As they drove down the Unter Den Linden, the broad avenue that once housed the Reichstag, Erik let out a deep breath and said, "Well, we got through all right. I thought for a moment that our wires had been crossed and my friends might have run into difficulties. But apparently all is okay. Now we have some fun."
John and Frieda might well not have been with them. In the back seat John had his hand under Frieda's skirt and Frieda was not resisting. She was enjoying every minute of it and she quickly had one breast exposed where his tongue was playing around the large nipple, which spread out like a large button over the bulbous breast.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING NOW?" Susan asked of Erik. She knew what was taking place in the back seat but she didn't care about that. She was only interested in pursuing her own pleasures and desires at the moment and somehow she sensed that Erik had made some rather elaborate plans for her. It seemed that everything happening was around and about her. John was just along so if he was having a good time with Frieda, good. It left her free to do what she would.
She must remember to call Angelle. She had made some inquiries in Hamburg and the club there could be purchased for the right price. The right price being about $150,000 but it would gross that or more in a year and with the way Angelle handled things it would double that in two years. She felt sure she had put Angelle in the position to buy and pershaps she would get a nice bonus. Angelle had indicated that she would make it right with her and she now turned her thoughts to a most bizarre and outlandish scheme. What if she could arrange for Angelle to have a palatial club in East Berlin-right in the heart of the Communist dominated area of Germany. Wouldn't that be a lark and a half.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Erik. It had started to drizzle heavier and he turned on the wipers. The lights from the car glared and bounced off the wet pavement into a fogbank. It was eerie. "We are almost there. I think you will have a good time, my dear."
"Almost where?" She asked.
"It is called the Regency. In America you would call it an after-hours club because officially it doesn't exist. It is a 24 hour a day party, actually. Many military men go there. The Russians have a high regard for their soldiers and they entertain them the most lavish of all citizens. Also you will be surprised at how many diplomatic officials from all countries you will meet tonight."
"From America, too?" She asked.
"Oh yes. You will see the Americans and the North Vietnamese informally having a good time together as well as the Red Chinese. It should have been called the Internationale but it is the sort of thing you will not hear about outside the confines of the building itself. It would surprise you how much gets accomplished between these deadly enemies, the capitalists and communists, in a bedroom or bar."
"I'm impressed. I feel like something out of a James Bond movie." Susan was really enthusiastic.
They made a left turn and then a right and the car suddenly turned into a darkened dirveway. It looked like some kind of factory or a warehouse. The driveway went under the building and then back out on the back side. It was different in the back where one could not be seen from the street because of other buildings and a high fence. There were at least a hundred cars parked and yet they had no lights. Erik parked the car and got out. He came around to Susan's side and opened the door for her. She got out and said to Erik, "What about them?" She was referring to John and Frieda who were enjoying some rather heavy love-making in the back seat.
Erik looked in. Frieda was sitting spread-eagle on the back seat. John was down on his knees with his head between her thighs and his tongue was working roughly, like a prick, into her willing pussy. "I think we will leave them here alone for a while," Erik said. "Frieda knows the way into the club. Is that all right with you?"
She shrugged. "I don't care. Let them have a good time."
"Fine." And Erik escorted her between the cars to the door. A lone doorman, in military uniform-a Russian uniform-tended the door and the light above the door was a dim one giving only enough light to make it possible to discern features and possibly identification papers if required. Most who went into this building were not strangers.
The guard recognized Erik and pushed a button twice. In a moment or so the clicking sound of the lock being opened by remote control penetrated the stillness of the night and the door swung open. Erik and Susan entered, arm in arm.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was dark in the hallway but when the door behind them closed a curtain opened and they entered the passageway into a hallway that was brightly lit. They had only a couple of steps to go and then they went through another doorway into a large casino. The chandeliers that hung from the enormously high ceiling were crystal and massive. There must have been at least a dozen of the large gleaming and flashing crystal light fixtures. Susan caught her breath. She had never in her life been in such a large hall of such grandeur. This was East Germany?
She asked Erik, "Is this all Communist propaganda to impress people from the west or does this actually exist all over the Eastern part of Europe?"
"Well," Erik started, "it is neither. They are not anxious for the western world to know of this place nor of any of the several others like it. And it is certainly no indication of life under Communism. This is for the privileged and pampered classes, not the commoners-except of course the Russian soldiers. There is no door closed to a Russian soldier in any occupied country. It is one of the great morality programs within the Red Army. Do you like it?"
"I love it. I'm impressed." Susan's beauty, however, matched any of the artificial graces of the Regency. She was like another diamond-only a larger one-in a brilliant cluster of beautiful gems.
The room was packed. An orchestra played about midway of the casino and there was a good-sized dance floor in front of the orchestra. The dance floor divided the room in half. There was gambling tables on one side and gambling tables on the other. The tables for the guests were on the opposite side of the room from the orchestra. It was a massive place and had once been a munitions factory. It was basically a well constructed building with a reinforced steel girders as the basic structure.
An American diplomat came over to Erik and shook hands with him. Erik introduced the gentleman to Susan. She was flabbergasted. She had seen his picture in the papers only a couple of days ago. There was some story about his effecting a trade agreement with the Russians.
All Susan could say was, "Well, I'll be damned."
The Diplomat laughed heartily. "My dear young lady, you must become more acquainted with the ways of diplomacy. I dare say you would be quite a diplomat in your own rights if you ever cared to join the foreign service corps."
"Shall we go to the bar for a drink?" Erik asked Susan. He turned to the Diplomat, "Would you care to join us in a drink?"
The Diplomat said he would be delighted but why not go to the private bar. They agreed and Susan was whisked through the room like a movie star making a public appearance. She noticed all the Russian soldiers-and they were all so young. Young and muscular. She could see that Russia advocated a strong physical fitness program. These soldiers represented themselves quite well.
The soldiers smiled at her and she smiled back. "I think they're all so cute," she said to Erik who only smiled and guided her by the arm.
There was a door beside the long well-lit bar. The Diplomat from America rapped on the door and a panel slid open. There was instant recognition from the other side and the door opened for them. It led into another room, much smaller than the giant casino, but plush and luxurious. A small combo played at one end of the room and there was a bar in the center along one wall. The room housed nuerous tables and a few booths.
Susan and Erik were taken to a booth near the bandstand where they joined several other men. Two were Russian Officers and there was a French civilian-an older man of about sixty. The Russians were young officers. The youngest about twenty-five and the older about thrity. Susan warmed to them immediately but she suddenly had a pang of fright. It had all happened so fast and now she wondered why she had let herself in for whatever was happening. She looked at Erik in fright. He smiled. She turned to the American diplomat and said, "Are you sure this is a safe place to be?"
He assured her in the kindest terms. "Dear lady, you are in the company of an American of high political standing. I can assure you I would not put myself in a position of danger. It would be very clumsy of me. I gather you have not been totally informed of the activities here at the Regency."
"No, I have been, told only that we were coming to East Berlin to have fun in a private club. I would rather be out in the other room dancing with the young soldiers and having a good time." She felt not only frightened but hurt and deprived.
"It will be so," the diplomat said. "I only want you to do a favor for your government. Would you do something to help your government?"
"Why certainly, but what could I possibly do here in East Berlin?"
The Russians stood up as did the Frenchman and invited the party to join them at the large circular booth. Susan was seated in the middle with Erik and the American Diplomat on one side, the two Russians and Frenchman on the other. She entertained the thought that she was trapped so make the best of it and hope it all turned out like fun. Like fun, she thought and stifled a panicky giggle-
Introductions were again made. She went through the formalities. The Frenchman's name was Andre Dufee. The older Russian, a Colonel, was named Kosle Koslo-sky. The younger was commonly named Ivan Tovich. Susan thought the two Russians were both handsome and desirable. Here she was in the middle of God only knew what kind of intrigue and all she could think of was how to lay two Russian soldiers. Well, you'd have admit she was original. Most women would have blown the scene but not Susan. She was having a blast at it.
"Madame, you are exquisite." Andre Dufee was typical of the elegant Frenchman. He reminded Susan of Maurice Chevallier. He was impeccable in manners and looks. His attire was sickeningly French and effeminite.
"Thank you." She decided to giggle. The only reason being that she remembered in a movie once that Europeans all thought American girls did nothing but giggle. Okay, she would be as defensive as hell but in a totally indefensive way. Maybe, just maybe, if she played it dumb enough somebody might get up enough nerve to find out what she had under her skirt and want it.
The conversation, so far as Susan could determine, was bland and over her head at the same time. She knew they were all trying to say something but what? That she didn't know. She figured from what the American had told her that she was expected to do something but whatever it was they weren't ready to tell her yet.
Drinks came. Toasts were made. It ran like a bartender's nightmare. First there was Vodka. The Russians always toast everyone from the lowest private up to the Premier of all the Soviet Russias. Then the Frenchman toasted his rounds with champagne. Erik joined with Schnapps and the American with Scotch. It was a blood drunken mess so far as Susan was concerned but through it all she discerned a pattern formulating. The Russians began to make a play for her. Both of them. She looked to Erik and to the American. They ignored her glance. The Frenchman was very drunk but the Russians, although merry and happy, didn't seem to be stoned. Susan felt giddy but it only made her crotch itch.
The Frenchman, Erik and The American Diplomat asked if they might be excused for a bit to discuss some political business. The Russians demurred. "Never," the older one said. "We Russians are men of dignity and honor. Please do your talking in our booth. Miss Susan," he turned to Susan, bowing gracefully, "would you honor us with your presence at the gaming tables and perhaps we could later show you some of the more interesting things about our little organization."
Susan looked to Erik who nodded his assent. "It is quite all right, my dear," he told her and then turned to let her out of the booth.
In the main room again Susan was eyed by everyone. She felt like one of Minsky's strippers on display, but she enjoyed the exhibitionism. She had left her leather coat in the booth and had on a very low cut blouse with the black miniskirt of soft leather. She danced with the Russians and played roulette-a game at which she had fantastically good luck. She had never played before but she seemed to have beginner's luck.
They had more drinks and Susan found herself before long in a combination sitting room bedroom. It was a large spacious room in mid-Victorian decor. Everything about the place was large and Susan suspected it was more than just a club for the soldiers. She reckoned wisely that the soldiers were only a front for other activities. She felt so certain about it that she asked Koslo. "Is the Regency a spy meeting place?"
He roared with luaghter. "You are very alert young lady. Our government could use a smart girl like you. Too bad you do not speak Russian."
Susan was glad she didn't speak Russian.
They were sitting on the couch-the three of them. The inevitable vodka was on the coffee table. Susan was cheating a little bit. She drank screwdrivers, explaining to the Russian that her doctor permitted her to drink vodka only with orange juice becuase of a vitamin deficiency. Even so she was pretty high by the time the party reached the bedroom.
"I think I will get comfortable," Ivan said in a matter-of-fact statement and he took off his tunic and shirt, baring a broad beautifully shaped chest and shoulders.
Susan's "Oooh," was very audible. It was the opening that was needed to break the formalities.
"Ha," Koslo said. He jumped up and ripped off his own tunic and shirt and exposed his chest, too. "What do you think of this? Am I not more beautiful than he?"
Susan gasped again. "Oh, it is so hard to say which is more beautiful. You are both gorgeous hunks of men."
Her comment seemed to infuriate both men. Koslo said, "All Russians are beautiful. But I am more beautiful than he. Look. I will show you."
With that announcement he proceeded to disrobe completely. First came off his shoes and then his trousers and finally his undershorts. He then paraded about the room flexing his muscles and running his hand over his muscular thighs and shoulders. "Have you ever seen a more beautiful specimen of manhood? Look at me. Look at my cock. Is it not a delight for women?"
Susan was taken aback at the swift turn of events but she admitted to herself that he had a lot to offer a woman if he could support in bed what she saw before her. He was a strong man-he had a rug of furry hair on his broad chest and she thought it would make a comfortable pillow for her to rest her head on. Letting him parade his wares about the room, she studied him carefully. His big prick hung half asleep but yawning towards awakening as it joggled with his movements about the room. His cock was thick-very thick. It was not what you would call excessively long but Susan felt that if it got hard it would be as big around as his big arm.
"It is all so wonderful. How can I decide which is more beautiful. Maybe if Ivan will show me what he has to offer I can better make a decision." Susan was caught in a diplomatic position. She didn't want to afford either of them reasons to be offended and she knew they were both quite intoxicated, especially Koslo. She decided to play it be ear. Why not have a little fun while she did it, too.
Ivan rose to the bait. "Ha. Being a Colonel has gone to your head my friend. Look. I will show you what a real Russian man looks like bare-skinned." Ivan had his trousers and underclothing off in a flash. He was drunk but he went through the elimination of his clothing quickly and efficiently, carefully folding his pants and placing them on the back of an overstuffed chair. He too paraded about but without the strutting style of Koslo. He did not need to strut. He had a perfect body and his infectuous grin with flashing white teeth was a sight for any woman to behold. But Susan knew they were both more than adequate. Any woman with any guts would have given her right ovary to have had either of them.
"Oh, Ivan. You are so manly," she cooed. "And you, too, Koslo. You are both perfect specimens of manliness. How shall I ever decide which is the greater man? I am in a delimma. Can you help me?" She was a smart girl.
They were both anxious to show this American girl with so much beauty what a Russian man could do. It was the East meeting the West on a common ground-sex. It had boiled down to raw animal instincts.
"Let me help you with your clothing," Ivan came over to Susan and offered his hand. She was a little bit woozy but she got to her feet and Ivan unbuttoned the back of her blouse and she let it drop to the floor.
Koslo said, "I want to help, too." So he unzipped the back of her mini-skirt and she let it drop. Then she stepped out of the crumpled skirt. She stood there in the middle of the room with bra, panties and pumps. Both of the Russians were captivated by her voluptuous body. Susan's long black hair cascaded down around her shoulders and her bulging breasts heaved up and almost over the top of her scanty bra. She was the epitome of womanhood, even with her body partially covered.
Ivan and Koslo argued as to which would take off her tiny bra. They stood behind her and babbled in Russian, each with a strap in his hand and each trying to get the other strap from the other. It was a comedy and finally as they both tugged and pulled away from each other the hook broke and Susan's breasts also broke loose like hell on ice. The two men let go the straps simultaneously and stood aside, getting an excellent side view of Susan's well-formed and upright boobs.
Susan knew they were on fire. She said, "How do I compare with Russian women? Do your women have big breasts like mine?" She moved about the room letting her breasts swing freely and the two Russian men ogled and panted. She knew her assets and she knew her way around a man. In this case she knew her way around two men. She did a little dance around the room and darted in toward each of the men who stood with arms open and darted away just as rapidly as they each reached for her. She was playing a game and enjoying it.
"Let us help you with your panties," they cried in unison. But Susan backed off.
"Oh, no you don't," she resisted. "I'll do that myself." She didn't really mind it if they tore her panties off. She might even like it but she was worried that they might get out of hand once they saw her love mound and the silky black hairs that abounded in profusion around it.
Susan danced around some more and let the men watch in passionate trances. Ivan had a hard on as did Koslo. She had been right in her assumption of Koslo. His prick was not too long but it was thick. At least as thick as his wrist and chunky. Susan licked her lips. She would like to go down on that big fat Russian cock. He wasn't circumcised but the head protruded like the top of a rosebud ready to burst forth in the dew of morning. In this case it was the dew waiting to burst forth and Susan intended it burst forth inside her someplace.
Ivan, on the other hand, was more the young athlete. He was a few years the junior of Koslo and his body was lithe and agile like a runner. But he had no need for worries in the masculinity department. His hips were slim like a football player used to gliding in and out on a play and his balls hung very low between his tight sinewy thighs. The long slender legs were like pinions of steel-tense and alert. His prick was not so thick as Koslo's but it was thick enough. But it was in length where he stood up. And I do mean up. He had a prick about nine or ten inches long and it didn't stand out when it was hard-and it was hard now-it stood straight up and curled in toward his belly button. It looked like he was connected at the balls and belly button by this long hard piece of muscle and cartilage.
Susan looked them both over as she danced about and knew she would get the fucking of her life before the night was over. For an instant she wondered what it was all about. Why she was here and what purpose she was serving in the field of International Relations. Well, be that as whatever it might, she was going to have her own international affair and to hell with the rest.
She danced and came to rest against the bed poster. With one arm around the post she used her other hand to free the panties from around her waist, moving as she did to accommodate the fall of the silk underthings as they eased down over her hips and then to freedom. The panties caught momentarily around her knees but a wiggle and they were freed and fell to the floor. She stepped out of them and with two quick kicks her pumps went sailing across the room. She did not have any stockings on so she stood at the foot of the bed totally nude and inviting as she leaned back letting her spine arch and forcing her boobs up, up and away.
The two men rushed at her but stopped short at her sides. She was amused and excited. She offered each of them a tit for himself! The two men greedily attacked the boob which was pushed into his face. Ivan had a smooth approach with his tongue fondling and licking and exploring. How soft it was to Susan. She felt the buds of his tongue gently sanding her nipple. But Koslo was the rougher one. He bit and nibbled and chewed. He was sadistic in his approach and having the two to compare it was like sweet and sour or cold and hot-tender and rough. One complemented the other. She wished she could have them both the same way sexually. She wondered what it would be like to have two cocks in her tight pussy with one taking long easy strokes and the other jabbing and angrily taking what it wanted. She felt moisture forming on the lips of her vagina. She was almost ready for a mental orgasm.
The two men worked in unison, each in his own fashion. They simultaneously lifted each side of her and clambered into the bed with Susan in the middle. The three nudes lay in the middle of the big bed. Ivan sucking ever so tenderly on Susan's boob and Koslo gnawing and growling at the other.
Now she felt a hand on each thigh. Ivan's hand so soft and smooth and tender to the touch. He gently let his fingers play along the inside of Susan's thigh and sent chills of joy up into her slit. But on the other thigh she felt the hard calloused, cruel hand of Koslo. He pinch-with his sharp nails. It was the first time he had made spot each placed he touched. His hand was that of a laborer, yet he was a Russian Colonel. Susan reckoned in her dream world that he must have come up through the ranks-the hard way. Probably as a factory worker.
But Koslo's feelings were real. She felt the chunky prick prodding against her thigh. She could hear the grunts of passion in her ear as he groveled at her breast. He reminded her of a rebellious baby cutting teeth and giving the mother hell when he went to the breast, venting his pain and anguish on the supply of food. Some men were that way. She had found it so. She thought they were punishing every woman they slept with because they wanted their mama back again. Well, she was willing to be his mama. His chewing hadn't hurt her-it only a-roused her when she compared his crude approach with that of Ivan the gentle.
As was inevitable, each of the men approached the opening betwen her legs with their fingers. One rough and sadistic. The other tender, gentle and caressing. They both stopped short of her slit, letting their fingers play around the sides of her opening and up on the hairy mound that protected her cavern of love beneath. Ivan played his fingers through the silky hairs like a soft brush. As would be expected, Koslo tore into the hair like a broken comb, pulling and pinching and scratching with his sharp nails. It was the first time he had made Susan wince and he grunted in delight that he had managed to move her. He pulled his head away for a second and said, "Ha. A Russian man can make any woman squeal-especially an American woman. I am a great lover, no?"
Before she could answer Ivan jumped the gun and let his finger slip into her moist opening. He quivered his finger just inside and she gasped and maoned agains. Ivan spoke up. "You see, one does not have to be an animal to excite a woman. Especially American women. They seek to find men. American men are lousy lovers. American women need love so don't think your crude countryside manner is so great. I, too, know how to make this woman happy."
Susan was afraid they would both forget her and get into a fight and she would be left without any man. "Oh, you are both great. Each in his own way. I like both ways. You are such strong men-so dominating. You make me feel like a woman is supposed to feel. Wanted and I hope needed. What shall we do next?"
"How do you like to do it with two men?" Ivan aked.
It was what she hoped would happen. She wanted to direct the action. She spoke to Ivan first. "You must let me turn over and then you can mount me in the fashion of dogs. And you, Koslo, lay on your back-beneath me and I will come down on you with my mouth and tongue. Is that agreeable??"
Ivan quickly pulled back to allow her to get into position. Koslo grunted his approval as he flopped over on his back with the chunky cock sticking up in the air like a short piano leg.
Susan assumed the dog-fashion position with her ass hunched high in the air. She immediately went to Koslo's giant prick and stretched her mouth over the head, letting her tongue work around and inside the foreskin. She sucked on the head with a wild passion.
CHAPTER NINE
Ivan didn't mount her as she expected. He got his shoulders under her thighs and hosited her higher into the air. She held on to Koslo's prick and sucked like mad. She felt her thighs going over Ivan's shoulders. He moved In with finesse and determination. He let his tongue rest at the opening of her slit. It was a new sensation to her-being eaten in the front from behind. His tongue slipped in easily and she felt it hit the sensitive parts just inside her opening. She showed her passion as she wiggled and sucked on the head of Koslo's prick. Koslo grunted and placed his rough hands on the back of Susan's head. He tried to ram his big cock further into her mouth but she only had to tighten her lips a little bit to prevent it. His prick was so big it would never go farther in without her help. He filled the opening of her mouth with his tool of iron.
Ivan had her practically standing on her head. He was really under her good now and his face buried deep inside her quivering pussy. His tongue shot in and out like a well oiled piston. Susan sucked and moaned deep inside. Ivan, with all his tenderness was a master with his tongue. He was not rough but he let his tongue dart around inside her and touched a love spot here and a tender spot there until she was ready to lunge out of her skin. He worked passionately at her clit and she began to feel faint as the orgasm she needed so badly began to formulate deep in her center of passion. She tried hard to swallow Koslo's prick but it would only go so far. It got thicker as she went down on it and at the base it would not budge. It was just too big but she played with what leverage she had and let the head slide in and out of her mouth with each upward thrust that Koslo made. She used her tongue to the best advantage. She new how to let it get down under the foreskin and tickle the sensitive covered missile under the head.
Koslo was reaching a point of no return. His thrusts upward were brutal. She felt her lips bruised and the taste of blood where he had busted open the tissue on the inside of her lip with his hard thrusts. The taste of blood went to her center of love and she sucked and gasped the orgasm out of Koslo's prostate. He came in a great roar of grunting and thrashing about. But Susan locked her hands about his cock and sucked on the head. His eruption was hot in her mouth but sweet tasting. She swallowed hard, again and again as her own love potion began to flow upward to its peak. Her own moans were that of an animal in the forest. She bumped and bounced over Ivan's head as he shot his tongue in and out rapid-ly. Susan had her orgasm in a burst of blinding light and flashes. Koslo's prick was caught in her mouth and as she fainted away, pinned on top of him her climax flooded her being with wave after wave of sensation and Ivan quivered his tongue in the peculiar way and sucked the love right out of her bottom.
Ivan wasn't through, though. He had helped her to her first orgasm and Koslo had also climaxed but Ivan hone done nothing for himself He pulled back, keep her legs in the air and when he let her down it was on his cock. The long Russian prick entered her slick pussy without difficulty and he shoved it in to the hilt with a plop sound as he clutched around her waist to keep her from leaping forward from the thrust.
Susan had not expected it and she threw her head back and screamed. The pain was piercing. He had really let her have it-like being stabbed with a blunt instrument.
"Ohhhh, you sonofabitch you've ruined me." She thrashed about but Ivan was over her like a wild horse, pounding his long cock into her loose bottom and it was loose because he had sucked the juices down and lubricated her insides as thoroughly as it was possible to do. It was obvious that Ivan enjoyed his sex. He went at her from every direction always ending up buried deep inside on every stroke. She soon forgot the pain and was heisting herself up ever higher to accommodate his thrusts. "Oh, daddy, daddy, do it. Do it. Don't stop. ... do it please....ohhhhhhhh, make me feel it.......ohhhh baby...." She was so excited she just beat her little fists on the bed and moaned and groaned. She was trying to have another orgasm but it only lingered on the verge of coming. She couldn't seem to trigger the spasm that would give her the release she now needed so badly. No matter how many times she came if she worked up to another climax and it wouldn't trigger she was as bad off as if she had never done anything. The pain that went with not being able to click off the damned climax was vicious. It hurt deep, inside and it tore at her nerves.
Ivan hammered a tatoo on her bottom and suddenly he was a wild man, lunging and plunging and she felt the hot jets of sperm shooting into her and splashing against the mouth of her uterus. "Oh God, dear God, please let me come, now." She screamed but nothing happened. Ivan exhausted his manhood and he slipped and slid around inside her as his organ began to deflate rapidly.
He let himself withdraw and Susan lay on the bed, rump high in the air and crying painfully and sorrowfully. She was surprised to feel the softness of a tongue licking at her tortured slit. It was warm and slurpy and she felt a lessening of the tensions. Her pussy could only quiver it was so far exhausted and worn out. The knot inside would not loosen however and she continued to cry.
Koslo had moved from under her and sat on the edge of the bed drinking vodka and mumbling to himself. He was quite durnk and the sexual experience had incapacitated him for the night. That was obvious.
Damned Russian blow-hard, Susan thought. Not man enough to do anything worthwhile for a woman. At least Ivan is trying to help me.
The licking stopped again and she felt arms go around her waist. If it was Ivan he had put on his coat. How odd. But she didn't have time to worry about it. Suddenly a cock entered her and she felt the arms tighten. The strokes were rapid immediately and she thought it had to be another Russian slipped into the room because this guy really knew how to fuck. He had a prick that was not too long but she could fee the friction created by the rapidity of the strokes. The sides of her pussy were actually getting hotter like skin will get hot if you rub something rapidly against it. She had never to her memory ever had a fucking where the insides of her slit actually began to burn.
But it was what she needed. She began to work with the action and in less than a minute her climax came in a frightening, screaming total collapse of her nervous system. Susan jerked like someone with epilspsy and a-gain she felt the hot juice of the male shooting into her as she began fading away. The force of his ejaculation was like something coming out of the end of the nozzle of a garden hose. It brought her back to reality. The stars and the flashes were inside her now not in her head. What the hell was happening. She was totally consumed and dominated. Who was this man? She quickly turned to see and she screamed a piercing scream that could be heard a block away. Tongue out and panting over her was a huge Russian Wolfhound. She had been screwed by another Russian-a Russian dog.
Susan came off the bed in a flash and although her long relationship with animals qualified her for the event she nevertheless was pissed at Ivan and Koslo for pulling such a trick.
But it was Ivan who was to blame, gentle, sweet Ivan. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She asked him in indignant tones. "I'm not some kind of a bitch that you can try your freakish and perverted wiles on." She fumed.
Ivan grinned the boyish smiled but there was a new twist to it. "Didn't you enjoy it? I think the animal gave you more sensation than I did. I have always been told that Americans are like animals. Now I believe it. You have no morals. You should be thrilled that I, a Russian soldier, have honored you with my manhood. Perhaps, if you are lucky, you will become big with a baby. If not by me then by the Russian dog. In either event, consider yourself lucky."
The tears burned Susan's eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. Ivan sat back on the couch, nude, and played with his cock. He slid his fingers up and down the long tool trying to get it fully erect again but Russian or no it would only get about half hard. Susan looked at him in disgust as she ran around the room gathering up her clothing he sat there with a smirk on his face. How could this handsome beautiful man be so cruel, she thought.
"Where do you think you are going?" He asked her in a firm casual manner.
"To the main room to tell them all what kind of a beast you are. You bastard. Not man enough to do your own work. Let me tell you something. I have nothing against the dog. He is more man than you will ever be so don't look so smug."
Ivan's face twisted into a mean cruel facsimile of his earlier self. He got up and strode across the room-arrogant and hostile. Susan knew herself and where she was. She drew away but it was too late. He lashed out at her with the back of his hand and caught her on the cheek. She went sprawling on the floor.
"Slut. Dirty whore. How dare you speak that way to a Russian officer? On your knees. Here." He snapped his fingers and motioned to his feet.
Susan knew she was in a bad position and felt the only thing to do was bite her tongue and go through whatever perverted activities he was formulating in his sick mind. Anything, she hoped, to eventually get out of this room and out of this country. She had now had more than she bargained for.
She came and knelt at his feet, humble and subdued. She put her arms around his legs and kissed his thigh. She hoped she could redeem herself through obedience.
"Aha, the wench begins to come to her senses. That's better but not enough. You will have to be punished for your bad manners."
"Whatever you say, Ivan. I am your slave." She knew what he wanted. He wanted to have his manhood returned. She had made a bad boo boo when she said the dog was a better lay than he was. It was the wrong thing to say to any man. She would have to placate him and inflate his male ego by servitude. Whatever he wanted she would do and she was sure he would demand a lot now.
Keslo was out like a light so it was only her and Ivan. The dog had taken off out the door and down a hallway when she had screamed so loudly. She obviously scared the animal as much as it had frightened her.
"Start licking me again. I like that." Ivan put his hand on her head and pushed her face into his thighs. Susan licked and oddly enough she enjoyed it. But she felt she mustn't let him know she was getting anything out of it for herself. She tried to act as if she found it repulsive. But the salt taste was sexually exciting to her. She licked up his leg on one side and then on the other. She noted that his prick seemed to be getting a little more life in it.
She nuzzled her face under his big balls and licked at the cord of his prick which ran back and under his crotch enroute to the prostate gland. Her hands ran up the back of his thighs and gently tickled his buttocks as she nibbled at the hanging flesh of his balls and bag. She was careful not to bite too hard because it is very painful if the balls are bitten hard. She didn't want to offend him, only satisfy him and get the hell out of here.
He pushed her head down against the side of his prick where the balls began to form and the crack between the leg and the prick where she let her tongue go down into the crevice and explored all the way down and under to the crack of his ass. She did this on both sides and felt no shame. She felt excitement and hopefully a glimmer of satisfaction in him that would get her a release.
No question he was enjoying his role of the dominant male. Here was this lovely creature, no matter what he may say in anger, licking at his balls like a faithful puppy dog and pleasuring him in a manner he could easily get used to.
Susan was sexually a professional. Nymphomaniac, perhaps, but not one without a tremendous knowledge of what it takes to make a man as well as herself happy. Most Nymphos think only of themselves and their own pleasures. Susan know how to pleasure a man, too.
It took her such a short time to reduce his manner to that of a male bent on satisfaction instead of revenge. She had made him feel like a man again. She tongued the end of his prick and it was hard like a rock. She enjoyed letting her little tongue dart in and around the head of his cock. There was something about the head of a man's prick. It was either so sensitive that you couldn't touch it or it reacted in pleasured delight. There was no in between. Ivan was one of those that reacted with delight. The pleasure was so great that he just lay back on the sofa and let her come to him and continue what she had started.
"Let's have another drink first," she said, "do you mind? I'm awfully diirsty." She hoped that he would show off his Russian ability to drink vodka and combined with a new sex ordeal pass out the same as Koslo had done.
He rose to the occasion. "Certainly. There is nothing like good sex and good vodka together. I will pour you a glass and you can stay down there and drink it." He was the dominant Russian male and there was nothing she could do but hope for the best.
He poured two tall glasses of vodka. Susan knew she couldn't possibly drink that much vodka but she would sip while he drank.
She did just that. Sipped and sucked. Sipped and sucked. He became so engrossed in his debauchery that he forgot he was supposed to be punishing Susan. He drank glass after glass but the Vodka only seemed to make him horny. His prick stood up like the flag pole and as before arched in and touched his belly button. Susan thought it was absolutely darling. She knew her ultimate aim but she was a woman and a woman that loved sex. This big hard prick in front of her made her forget for a moment what she was about. It seemed to have the same effect on Ivan. Tempers had subsided and they became a man and woman again. Only this time Ivan was pretty drunk. Susan got up on the couch with him and asked him to lay back so she could work on him.
"Yes. Yes, that will be nice. Make it feel good for Ivan. I will reward you generously." He was talking a lot of nonsense but his stiff cock was a no-nonsense situation and Susan wanted it inside her. She straddled him and inserted his upright tool inside her tool box. He made little movements but nothing that could be called fucking. He was past that sort of thing. He had a drunk hard on and she would have to really work on him to get him to reach climax.
She sat full down on him and then hoisted herself up again. Over and over she went through the routine and then she would lean over with him deep inside her and kiss him. She let her tongue search the inside of his mouth and down into his throat. Oh, my God, what a man, she thought. She could really like him if he didn't have that damned two-faced attitude about women.
He moaned beneath her. It was a half-conscious sound of warm sensations somewhere in the pit of his being. He was trying to come up to an orgasm.
Susan felt the arch of his cock inside. It rubbed against the front of her vaginal tract and hit on some nerve that gave her a new feeling-a new way towards climax. She knew she would be dizzy when she came. She wanted a quick recovery though. She had to get out of this room and back to Eirk as quickly as possible. And what of John? What had happened with John and Frieda. She hoped that he was using his head to better advantage than she had.
She came all the way up to where the head was barely inside her hole and then she plunged down hard on his stiff prick. She had to make him come. Hard as he was nothing was happening. She knew he was concentrating but how much can a drunk concentrate.
Susan had a new idea.
She twisted around, continuing to sit on his hard cock, and faced his feet. Her rear was against his stomach and she hunched over slightly to get his cock full inside her when she came down on it. She put one of her hands under his bottom, through the spread legs. She let her fingers wander back under his balls and along the cord as she squirmed around on his crotch. He groaned and moaned at the delightful sensation of her fingers playing around his balls.
She let her fingers run along the crack until she reached his rectal opening. It was moist and oily from the natural secretions and she let her little fingers tickle at the opening and she could feel the muscles spasm under her touch. She let the index finger begin to probe and search inside the anal opening. He moved more to her touch and the sensitivities she aroused. Susan's final climax was coming up and she pumped hard on his cock pushing and shoving hard so that the head jammed against the opening of her womb and the aching sensation that accompanied the hammering soon brought her climax. She maintained her senses as she felt the warmth of her climax spreading through her lower extremeties. She jammed her finger against the wall of Ivan's intestine and found the prostate gland. She pressed hard against it and brought him to a roaring, thundering orgasm that shot into her like a gusher. She felt the hot liquid like molten lava pouring out of his prick and spreading over the mouth of her womb. It was enough to bring on another climax in quick succession to her. She was weak and woozy but the man beneath her went immediately soft. She had rained him of every ounce of manhood that he had available at the time and he succumbed beneath her demands as a woman.
It was only seconds until Ivan was snoring as loudly as the passed out Koslo.
Susan waited a moment and then let herself off of Ivan. He didn't move. Just lay there nude and beautiful and passed out. Susan took a good long shot of vodka and got dressed. She was going to get out of that mess and moved fast before Koslo came to.
It was one of her fastest jobs of getting dressed and she buttoned the last button on her blouse as she closed the door behind her and made her way back to the bar.
Erik rose to meet her. The Frenchman was gone.
"Susan, my dear, I am sorry to have inconvenienced you. We know what happened and what else can be said except we meant you no harm."
The American Diplomat returned to the table with his hands full. He had three glasses locked together in his hands and he set them down on the table, placing one in front of Susan and passing one to Erik. He sat down in the corner of the booth with the other one.
"Your country is indeed grateful to you. You have been of great assistance. If there is ever-and I mean ever-anything we can do for you, please let me know." The Diplomat smiled benevolently at Susan.
Susan looked at him totally blank. She sipped the drink before she said anything. Then she tried to be calm and collected about it. "Let me get this straight, if you don't mind. You're thanking me for something and I'm not sure what it is but I assume it had something to do with Ivan and Koslo-right?"
"Exactly, my dear. Exactly." He still had the fatherly smile on his face.
"Do you know what happened in that room?" She looked at Erik and then back to the Diplomat (we refrain from naming the American Diplomat as you would recognize his name immediately).
Erik shuffled around very uncomfrotable in his seat and in the situation. He would rather have explained it to her privately.
But it was the Diplomat who took the reins again. "Yes, I know what happened in that room but I also know something you don't know."
"Like what?" She asked. She suddenly felt sick at her stomach and angry as hell. Not that she hadn't enjoyed most of the sex with Ivan and Koslo-and yes, even the dog who helped her to her orgasm, but she was angry because she felt she had been used and not advised as to what she was being used for."
"Well," he began, "like the reason why we put you in such a predicament in the first place. It was imperative that someone tackle the situation and we had a dosier on your background which qualified you for the job. What we didn't know was whether we could maneuver you into the right position at the right time. It was a million to one shot and we hit the jackpot."
"Sonofabitch," she exclaimed. "Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on before I split a skull or two with a beer mug. I resent like hell being used without being told what for."
"But that's the whole thing. We couldn't tell you. They would have been suspicious immediately If you had known your assignment. You would have tipped your hand. As it was you played it perfectly and we would not have permitted any physical harm. I'm sorry you were slapped but that was minor. But let me explain it all. Colonel Koslo Koslosky has the say-so on prisoner exchanges-diplomatic and political. Ivan is his assistant and aide."
"But......" Susan was even more flustered than before.
"In a moment my dear, in a moment," he waved his hand gently through the air. "There is a very important prisoner exchange we have been trying to make for many months. Koslo has repeatedly refused to make the deal. As usual they wanted more for what they were returning but we really needed to effect the return of our man and were willing to eventually pay a higher price but you were our last straw. We have tried women before but they all failed because they were professionals and gave themselves away. That is why we gambled with you and didn't tell you what was happening to you. And I'm happy to say that it paid off handsomely. And that is why we are so indebeted to you."
Susan thought she understood. "You mean I was sort of a pawn or chestnut in the fire so to speak?"
"Exactly. Neither Koslo nor Ivan have ever been lured by a woman. We knew the story of Americans being so attractive to the Russian soldiers. Oh, we had talked with Erik and Frieda beforehand. You didn't run into them on the plane from London to Hamburg by accident. It was planned. We even planned to have them shaken down although with their reputation in International circles they are usually frisked anyway but not so open and publicized. They were our bait to get you. But the important thing was getting you to Berlin. You almost blew up the entire thing. It was my idea to have you come over tomorrow instead of tonight. But Erik phoned me and told me what you wanted to do. It was just by coincidence that Koslo and Ivan were here this evening.
"I okayed your visit tonight because I felt perhaps I could induce you to return again but we have accomplished it all and I am glad it is over." He patted her on the hand and smiled again.
"I still don't see what it is exactly that you accomplished. Were you trying to prove that Koslo liked girls?" She asked.
"Oh, no. We knew he was girl crazy but we needed some pictures to twist his arm with. The scene with you and he and Ivan together will get our man back without any further problems. Oh, we will have to give something in return but the pressure is off now. We have some excellent photographs of the entire event-your face will be obliterated from the film, of course,-but the facts are there and I'm sure Koslo and Ivan will have more than a hangover to discuss when they wake up later. Now, do you understand why it was all such a deeply kept secret? Any slip and your life would have been in total jeopardy. Please forgive me and your government for taking these liberties."
"Well," Susan backed off, "under such circumstances I will withdraw any complaints I may have and believe me I had plenty. But what of my husband? How did he fit into the picture? Where is he now? What was the big scene between he and Frieda?"
"I think I can answer that," Erik spoke for the first time since the explanation started. "It was also chance that your husband would find Frieda attractive to him. She is an attractive woman but as we know from experience things like that don't really matter when a wife is around-in this case it was another case of the pieces falling into place. They are gambling in the casino now. Shall we join them?"
"I'll be damned. A national heroine. How about that?" She threw her head back and roared with laughter. "I'd like to see their faces when they find out what happened but I'll tell you one thing-if the Russians ever do take over the world I don't know about the government but the men will do just fine in bed. They know their way around the bedroom."
CHAPTER TEN
On the plane to Rome Susan and John compared notes. When she told him about Ivan and Koslo she did so in the best cloak and dagger tradition. He listened with great interest and how proud he was. When she finished the story he hugged and kissed her and told her how wonderful she was and how much he loved and appreciated her. She felt like a true queen that day.
His experience had been quite different, however. He had of course had a wild sex affair with Frieda. Thev had even been served drinks in the car. It seems Erik had arranged for them to have anything they wanted in the car outside. John now understood why. They wanted to keep him out of the club in order to prevent foulups in the Diplomat's plans.
But they both were wondering who in the hell the person was that was so important to get released from cus-today in East Berlin.
After they arrived in Rome Susan found out. The front page of an English language paper proclaimed the release of several political prisoners from the East. Among them was another name she remembered. He had been held by the Russians for over a year. The charge of course had been spying but that had been dropped in the exchange. She would like to have seen the look on Koslo's face when he was confronted with the photographs-even more it would have been better to have seen him explaining to his superiors his reasons for effecting the exchange. He must have cooked up a good story. He had obviously moved fast before anyone smelled a fish. Well, another job well done, she opined to herself.
But Rome was a new challenge-a new adventure. Susan had never been there nor had John. She got pinched on the ass walking through the hotel lobby and she was flattered. She had read in a booklet about Rome that men often pinched women's bottoms and it was considered a compliment when they did. He had been a tall handsome Italian with thick sensuous lips, strong neck and shoulders. Yes, Rome had a lot to offer and she intended to get her fill of whatever there was to fill up with.
She had a letter from London when she arrived at the Hilton in Rome. It was from Angelle and it contained a fat bonus check for her work in Hamburg. She wrote that she had purchased the Blue Ship Club in Hamburg and had made a fast trip to the continent to close the deal. She was sorry that she had missed them but they had left for Berlin. It had all happened so rapidly. Angelle had sent $5000 and that was a lot of loot. Susan decided to put some of it to good use.
While John went out to play golf with a fellow he met in the hotel bar Susan went shopping. She bought Italian style shoes, mini dresses, sweaters, skirts and lingeree. She spent over a thousand dollars but so what. It was an unexpected windfall. She had never dreamed Angelle would ever send such a large amount. She really expected a small gift or small check but $5000-well, she must have really put Angelle on to something that would bring in a lot of money. Angelle had told her in the letter that she was having the place completely remodeled along the same lines as her club in London ... Susan mused to herself that a time Angelle would have with the Regency Club in East Berlin. She would know how to handle that strange mixture of international intrigue. But she didn't even tell Angelle about it. That was the untouchable of all untouchable spots. Mainly because of the high level decisions that took place on any number of the king-sized beds that were so conveniently off the main room. Susan thought she might make a good politician if that's what it took-laying on your back and enjoying it.
While shopping she took a stroll down the famed Via Venuto with all the night clubs and sidewalk cafes. She stopped at sidewalk coffee shop and had a bite to eat. The waiter spoke English. She had been surprised that here and in Germany and even when she had been in France-most waiters and public employees spoke English quite well. She asked the waiter about it.
"Oh yes. It is the American dollar. It will buy more of everything that the Lira or the Franc or the Mark. I have been saving American dollars. You see we often get tips in American money. Those I save. It is our retirement fund-my wife and myself."
"But you're so young to be thinking of retirement.
How old are you, twenty-live:'" She asked.
"He smiled. "No. I am 32 but ifl think of retirement now then I will be able to do it much sooner than most. Why wait until I am fifty and then think of it. Perhaps by that time I will be ready to retire so I will have saved myself a lot of work. Yes?"
"Yes." She laughed with him. "I think I'm going to like it here. Everyone is so friendly."
"This is the Eternal City-the City of Light. That means, I think, the city of happiness and love. I have always found it so. Many Italians go to America or to England to live. Not me. I love this city. This country. It is not just land. Italy is a way of life. The crying babies, the old women and men-the young lovers strolling along the boulevards. Even the Paparazzi-it is all a part of this glorious place called Italy. Do you understand?"
Susan was quite touched by his love of country. "Yes. Yes, I understand. I feel that way about America and especially about California. That's where I live, California. I wish more people expressed their love for their country. We seem to be living at a time when people are chronic complainers."
She sat silently during her lunch and reflected on her conversation with the waiter. It had given her a good feeling. She thought that life was worthwhile after all and seediness was just a part of it-not the whole bowl of fruit.
When she left the cafe, after paying her check, she said to the waiter. "You have made my day. I don't know your name-I don't want to-but I want you to know that I will never forget you and your philosophy.
Here...." she handed him a $100 bill....."put this in your retirement fund. Maybe it will help you quit a year earlier-I think you should. It is a shame to waste your point of view about life on work. Arevi derci." And she walked away leaving the young waiter awe-struck with the bill in his hand. It was one of those impulsive things one does in life once in a while when one feels at peace with the world and Susan felt more serene than she had in a long time. It reminded her of a sermon she had once listened to in church-and she had listened that time. She went to church and Sunday school every week as a child because her mother insisted on it but she didn't often listen.
That day she had and it was the story of the fishermen casting their nets in the worst possible spot-because there were no fish there-and then Christ came along and showed diem where the fish were. She felt that this waiter had shown her something. It wasn't that he had said so much-it was that way in which he said it. That great verve for life and living. That is what the sermon had meant to her. The zest in life if you look in the right places and not always going around in shadows and thinking negative thoughts.
I was a good day, indeed.
But Susan was Susan. She sauntered along the wide boulevards and avenues-just ambling along and taking in the sights. She was anxious to try out an Italian man, though. Yes, Susan was still Susan-high ideals notwithstanding. She decided she would get laid before she went back to the hotel. She and John had enjoyed a wild affair the night before they arrived in Rome but that was her husband. She wanted something new and foreign and strange and exciting. Not that John wasn't exciting. H was, but this was a vacation and what were vacations for if not to have fun. She had a child-like logic that could be argued but to no avail so why worry about it.
She passed a corner and several young boys-or rather young men-teenagers, whistled and guffawed and made sexy noises with their mouths. She didn't understand the Italian lingo but she knew they were saying the same things boys say the world over when a pretty girl passes by She walked a little slower and stopped in front of a record shop and pretended to look at some of the new records in the window. She looked back toward the corner and the boys were still there. They waved to her and she smiled.
One of them was brave. He left the group and walked straight to where Susan was standing trying to decide what to do next. He helped her make that decision.
"Hello," he said in English highly influenced by his Italian accent, "my name is Tony. You are an American?"
"Yes. My name is Susan. Who are your friends?" She nodded to the boys at the corner who watched the encounter with great interest. They were good looking young boys-hot young Italian boys and Susan was an American tomato ripe for plucking or screwing if she could be made. They were a subtle group. Always one would be the eager beaver but Tony was the leader and took the initiative, keeping everyone else in line. Bait. Bait to get the fly into the web and then it was all over but the happy times.
"Oh them. They are my cousins, Senorina. Would you like to meet them?"
"I don't know. What do they want?" She wasn't sure she wanted to meet six or seven young Italian studs in the heat of the afternoon. It might be too much for even her.
"Oh, they are harmless," he said, throwing his young handsome head with the shock of black hair back and roaring with great gusto. He was trying to disarm her nad he did so quite effectively. She was with him he thought.
"Senorina they come only to the boulvevard to look at the beautiful girls walking by. They would not know what to do if one of the beautiful ladies spoke to them. They would be struck dumb." He looked closely to see if she believed him.
"And what about yourself?" She asked. "Are you so harmless as they?"
"Well, I am wiser than they. I have always done more than just look." He was braver now. It was the Italian approach. Give him a doorway and he would soon own the castle.
But Susan liked this brash fellow. He was ruggedly built but his face was smooth and satiny. Latin was written all over him. His carriage, eyes, nose, speech and black curly hair that hung at his shoulders in the modern fashion. Her juices were gurgling inside her well formed anatomy. She felt conspicuous standing there on the street talking with this young boy-he looked like a young street hoodlum but he had a charm that she found difficult to resist.
"Do you work?" She asked, trying to make general conversation. She didn't want to get too involved just yet, if ever, but she also didn't want him to go away and leave her either. She found him very attractive and very exciting. It was really her first contact with an Italian other than the waiter who had filled her so full of philosophy. Now she felt she would like to make love to the world and spread the happiness she was feeling-but caution must be her guideline.
"Yes, sometimes we work," he shrugged again. "But who wants to work in such beautiful weather. It is for love making and for kindness to young ladies alone in the city." He grinned toothily at her and the smile of the Latin is always difficult to resist if he is in quest of the female of the species.
Susan parried and toyed with him-or so she thought. "Well, then. How do you live if you don't work? I'm sure you don't find food on the ground or clothing or drink." She knew the Italian love of the grape.
He smiled, blinked his eyes and impishly cocked his head before he answered. Then he said, "Sometimes....sometimes....the pretty American girls find me interesting ... to talk with....they take me places....and sometimes they go with me to a place I know where it is quiet. It is a cafe by the waters. It is very private. We could go in a boat on the waters or take a cabana. It is all so easy to do. I am fortunate. More fortunate than my dear cousins. I have the nerve to make acquaintance. They are shy and I think somewhat stupid."
Susan leaned against the glass front of the record shop. Her hand went to her cheek and she rested her jaw in the cup of her hand, one finger pointing up towards the hairline. It was what she called her "twitching" stance. She always did that when she felt the excitement of a big event or a big trouble. Her problem was that she had to be a gambler. She could never discern the difference between the two-which was fun and which was tragedy.
Tony continued his offensive. "Are you all right? Do you feel well?" He reached to take her shoulder as if to brace her from falling. She flinched slightly but she felt the touch of his strong hand on her arm and could feel the jelly in her knees shake. She really did need to brace herself then. She leaned a little harder against the pane but kept her poise.
"You are quite strong, Tony. But I'm all right, thank you. I'm just not used to your climate." She smiled at him again, wondering where the conversation would go now.
But he was ready for it. "I have no money but if you have the money for a taxi we can go to the place I have told you about-where the American women have taken me before to eat and to talk. It is not a long ride. Not too expensive for an American. Maybe you should have something to eat and a little wine, yes?"
She thought he was pushy but she liked it. It isn't often that a teenager knows how to be pushy and yet at arm's length. She flipped a mental coin and called it after it came up heads. Naturally she called heads. "All right. I think that might be nice. First, I will drop these packages at my hotel."
He had hailed the taxi before she finished her sentence and as they entered the cab, she ahead of him, he signalled to his friends with his hand, making a big "O" with his thumb and forefinger. They made no motion in turn. Susan climbed into the taxi and Tony behind her. The cabbie looked at Tony and let go a fling of Italian phrases. Susan assumed right when she assumed that he was giving Tony hell for taking up with an American tourist. Tony only shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Susan.
He gave the cabbie instructions and Susan interrupted saying, "Please stop by the Hilton first. I wish to leave these parcels."
The driver grunted and made a U-turn, missing several cars oncoming from the opposite direction. Susan nearly had a heart-attack. She clutched at Tony's arm and he held her hand firmly. "It is all right. The taxi drivers of Rome have done more for romance than the moonlight Senorina. You could say they delight in bringing boys and girls together, yes?"
"No wonder the Italians are such lovers. It is better to stay home in bed than to wander out into the streets." She was amused at her ability to adlib humor.
"Very good. You show a great understanding of the Latin way of life. You have been here before, maybe?"
"No. No, it is my first trip. I came here from Germany. Before that I was in England and before that even in France. I am on my way around the world. My home is in California-in America. Have you ever been to America?" She said it without thinking one way or the other.
"No. No, my American lady friends were quite content to have me in Italy. Not in America. Besides, it would not be easy to get me a passport to America. I have a police record."
Susan tensed.
"Oh it is nothing serious. Petty theft. It is often difficult for a young boy. It was a couple of years ago and I was hungry. But I was reported. An angry husband, you know....." He opened his hands, palms up, in a futile gesture.
Susan knew that wasn't much. "I should have not asked such a question in the first place. But I thought....I mean you suddenly are not like a street urchin. Oh, dammit, I've blown it again. I didn't mean it that way.
What I meant was....that the circumstances under which we met. You know....but you seem more educated than that....Oh, what's the matter with me. I can't seem to say anything right......"
Tony laughed. He thought she was funny. He told her so. "You're a pretty American chicken. I understand. Americans are not known in Italy for their tact. Maybe I misled you though. It was because I wanted to meet you. But I am not illiterate. I just don't enjoy working hard. I am a student-in college. But it is so much fun to spend the summers going around and doing whatever happens. You understand? Yes?"
"Yes, I understand." She laughed again. She was getting to where she laughed at anything these days and she liked the brashness of this young lothario.
At the hotel she gave the packages to the doorman and instructed him to have them delivered to her suite. He took the things and tipped his cap.
"Now I'm free. Where are we going?" Susan was much too trusting. She just met this strong virile Italian buck and already she acted as if she had known him forever. He was dressed in American jeans, showing a big impression which certainly influenced her, and sport shirt, open at the collar. He wasn't dirty but he was somewhat unkempt as boys of the street often are. But she believed his story of being a college student. It was not so different than all the students she used to meet at the beach-Malibu or Santa Monica-they were always there during the summer, picking up girls, picking up faggots-anything for a buck. Sometimes they would go just for the fun of it-but most of them wanted money. They would ripple their muscles and look around to see which of the onlookers looked like the best fish. It could be a man or a woman-boy or girl. It didn't matter. They just lived by their wits and often they didn't have to, but it broke up the humdrum existence of the "establishment way of living" as they called it. Tony could be the same. He looked like one of them.
Tony was no fool. He knew she was mentally going over him. This was not the first chick he'd picked up on the streets but he knew she was one of the better looking ones. And younger. Usually they were middle-aged, fat or ugly or both and unhappy. All he ever did was make them happy for a while and they paid him for doing it. But this was different. He and the boys could enjoy this one but he hoped she wouldn't be too difficult. He remembered once at a gang-bang with the boys how he had been wrong about his mark. She looked the part. Boy, oh boy did she look ripe for the plucking. Just like a pidgeon on the corner. She was about 45 and trying to look 29 but actually ending up looking over 50.
Bleached hair, tight fitting clothing over a body that was already too heavy in loose clothing. She had been trying to pick up several guys when Tony and" his boys ran into her. Tony plied his wares in the usual manner. She tried to act as if she were being seduced. Great. That was the way the game was played but he found out later that she was skittish-and in the wrong ways. She looked like she was just dying for a good fuck-or a dozen good fucks and he and his gang were ready to accommodate her-but only for a price. He was not hard up for pussy-not that hard up-just for money. Always the money. It was grab it here and grab it there but the stomach didn't know the difference if he got it from laying an old woman or a young one. The money from either bought the same grub. He'd been living this way for several years. It was what he knew.
But he had told her the truth about being a student-Susan that is. But that other broad. They had taken her to the beach-well he had taken her and the others were there waiting. It was made to look like happen stance. Tony took her in the room behind the food stand. The door was left open-unlatched. Once Tony was on her and pumping his big Italian cock into her flabby flesh the others busted in. It was made to look like they had caught him and were going to get their share of the action but they were mostly younger even than Tony. Fourteen and fifteen and anything looked good to them-even a fat slob. They forgot what they were there for-just to give her a thrill and take her money. She rbelled against the onslaught and fought. Things got out of hand-mostly with the boys. It was the old idea-a taste of blood to a wild animal-and these kids were mostly wild animals. With the exception of Tony there were really from the streets.
She had been badly mauled. They had all taken her in rough brutal fashion. She had been screwed in the ass by one kid who was known for his big cock-they called him "Big Stick" because of his size. He usually only jacked off because he couldn't get a girl to take him. Sometimes he went with a boy and screwed him in the ass but it was the end of the boy doing anything again. It was ruination every time and he had been so hot that he showed the woman no mercy. He gouged and ripped at her. When they had finally finished their business she was unconscious and bleeding badly.
Tony knew it was dangerous to leave her and dangerous to take her to a hospital. He thought quickly and from that time on he had absolute control over the boys. They owed him their freedom. He had arranged, for a cost, with a beach boy to report finding the woman there. The police had come of course and the woman taken to a hospital. She recovered but there had been a lot of bad publicity and questions. Tony had been questioned because he had been seen in the area but the confrontation with the woman had frightened her so badly that she refused to identify him as one of her assailants. Her comment at the time was, "He is only a boy you fools. It was a gang of grown men. They were big men-violent and unrelenting." Tony smiled thinking about it. She had been so foolishly dramatic about it. The police were obviously aware of that. Tony thought she had enjoyed the whole thing and would probably do it again somewhere-maybe had before-but it was one big mess at the time. The boys hadn't been able to operate for several months.
Out of the incident one thing happened that made Tony the boss. He had kept them all out of jail by his quick thinking. They were now his loyal group. Nobody would cross him. They still screwed enmasse but at his instructions and indication. If they couldn't hold it they jacked off-or screwed each other. Yes, that happened too. Boys in the streets have little thought for what is moral and what is not.
He wanted his boys to have Susan but he wanted her to enjoy it too. He took her to be a nympho or she would not have given in so easily. He thought he could handle it the right way with her. He knew she would give him some money. He wouldn't have to get rough with her for that. It looked like a good day and he didn't intend to let some punk kid in his group fuck it up.
The cab dropped them at the designated area by the river. It was a park-like grounds and there were lonely stretches along the beach as well as busy sections. Susan and Tony walked and talked. Hand in hand. Susan so trusting but so sure of her reward. Tony equally sure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Susan and Tony stopped at a small stand and had a soft drink and some pepperoni sticks. They were hot and she liked spicy hot food. They walked on and they talked a lot. Susan was learning a lot about Rome and the things to do while she was there. By now she pretty well knew that she was expected to pay Tony to screw her and she also knew that it was likely the others would show up.
She didn't mind the money at all. She had received the big bonus from Angelle so she might as well spend it on something she'd enjoy. Angelle would like it if she spent it on sex. After all, that was her stock in trade-selling sex and sexually oriented shows.
She told Tony, "I expect to compensate you for your time. After all a young college student needs money."
Tony understood her face saving tactic. "That's kind of you."
"Not really. I just feel like doing it. There is one hitch-you might call it insurance. You'll get the money when I get back to my hotel. You'll have to trust my word on that."
"I trust you." He knew she wasn't lying so there wasn't any reason to make a big issue now.
"I have a room down the beach. We can be alone there." He squeezed her hand in his.
They walked for quite a while and then came to the old boat dock where the food stand had once been operated. Now it was just a vacant store front and the room in the back. Susan had a fliching feeling but decided to ignore it and follow the natural instincts that cried out inside her for sexual relief. Always she led herself up to the point of anticipation of orgasm and blindly went from there. She had no sense of reasoning about sex. It just overtook her and her person ached and burned inside to be satisfied. Here she was with this total stranger-this handsome young boy who could be a killer or a thief or whatever but the levi pants with the prick that bulged out and seemed to be even bigger now. She wondered if he was an anxious for this as she was.
She saw no one else around the place. It was coldly deserted and lonely. He went ahead of her into the back room doorway. It was dark inside and he lit a candle on a card table in the middle of the room. It was a small room and sparsely furnished-a bed, dresser, table and some chairs. She also noted a hot plate that was operated by canned gas.
He turned from the table and looked at her. He was big and strong, dark and sinister and handsome and protective-all these things at once. She went into his arms as easily as pie. He enfolded her luscious body in his embrace and kissed her passionately. He made no pretense of innocence. He had told her too much to pretend that he was being seducted or that he wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Oh, no. He wanted her. Her firm and large breasts pressed against his chest and she felt the lump in his pants pressed against her pubic mound. It was enough to force a gasp from her throat. It felt good. He had a manly odor about him. It was the essence of male that drove women into fits of passion and Susan, oversexed as she was, could hardly contain her self.
Leaning against the brass bedstead Tony took her by the shoulders and held her away from him at arm's length. He saw the fire and passion in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks. He felt that old itch down inside, too. He had been sleeping with so many old bags from the streets that it was an extra special treat to find someone like Susan to fuck. Oh, he would give her satisfaction all right. It was a department in which he excelled-but he would extract his own satisfaction, too. Right to the last drop of his manhood.
"Would you like some wine?" He asked, moving to the dresser where he took a bottle out of the bottom drawer and opened it, yanking the cork out with his beautiful white teeth.
"Whatever you say, Tony. I already feel a little giddy." She leaned against the bed.
"I don't know if I understand. What means 'giddy'?"
"Oh, that means you get a feeling inside that says your feet are on the ceiling and your head is hanging and swinging through the air. Like a windstorm swirling around you. It is a very unusual feeling."
"Yes. Yes, I know the feeling. I sometimes have it myself. The wine does it to me-and girls." He mistook her feeling though and thought she might be having sudden fears. The wine would help that. It would take the edge off her nerves and make her more cooperative. It was a very special wine. One which he always spent more money for because it had a sort of aphrodcsiac effect on reluctant women. With Susan it should be doubly effective.
He found two glasses and poured. He didn't stint. He poured equally in each glass. Of course his capacity for the grape juice was great. He drank wine all of the time-he had all his life. All Italian boys are raised on wine. It is a part of every household.
He pulled the table over by the bed and sat the bottle down. He handed Susan a glass of the wine and they sat down on the edge of the bed. With the table near the bed they could make more progress as they drank their drink. It made everything more simple and relaxed.
They sipped the wine and gradually the room took on a mellow glow for Susan. The wine was heady and she felt the warm liquid in her veings. It made her want to do a strip tease for Tony but she didn't. She said, "It is warm in here. May I take off my blouse?" What a silly thing to say.
"Sure. Let me help you." He sat his glass down and helped her get the silk top off. Her skin was arm and creamy under the spell of the moment. Tony kissed the glistening shoulder and nibbled at the bra strap, releasing it to fall over the rise of her shoulder and down her arm. She moved and giggled like a little girl.
"You have a way about you-you Italians know how to do it, don't you?" Now whatever made her say a silly thing like that. Of course they knew how to do it. She remembered a boy saying that to her in high school. He had said, "You know how to do it don't you? Huh?" The problem then had been that he didn't know how to do it and she had been so disgusted because he didn't know what he was doing and was filled with disgust when she told him where he had to put it. He had thought that a dirty idea and she was left without satisfaction. What a bad memory that was. But of course Tony knew how to do it.
Tony smiled at her in the glimmering candlelight. It was a rundown room but it was romantic with the shadows flickering against the faded rose wall paper and tattered lace curtains. The windows had been long boarded up from the outside but the remnants of curtains remained as mute evidence that at one time the room had housed life and habitation. They were now recapturing something that may have cone been a part of the activity of this forlorn and forgotten romantic hideaway. Susan's imagination ran rampant as it always did.
Tony slipped the white T-shirt over his head and dropped it over the chair back. He had beautiful shoulders, strong, rippling muscles and bronze colored as so many Italians are. Susan couldn't help but gasp when she saw his bulging muscles. His chest was broad and his pectoral muscles well developed. But there was no hair. He was smooth on his body.
He stood up and flicked open the top button of his levis. Susan saw the growth of hair that tufted up to his navel. Black curly hair straining for freedom out the top of the levis. That's where the hair was. That's where Susan wanted to be. She pulled herself up again and said, "Help with this Goddam bra, will you? It's stuck. I can't get it loose."
She turned around and Tony unsnapped the bra and it fell to the floor. Just fell down over her arms and onto the floor. Tony was behind her and he let his arms slip under hers and cupped her breasts with his big broad hands. His touch, like electricity sent shocks through her body. His hands were warm against her skin and she squirmed backward against him. She felt the bulging bump in his jeans against her plump buttocks. It rested at the division of the cheeks of her ass and it felt wonderful even through the skirt she wore.
Susan didn't wait any longer to show him her charms. She pulled loose and took off the skirt. Then the pumps and panties. She stood in the dim light with her glass of wine and revealing herself fully to him said, "Do you like what you see, Tony? Do you think I can satisfy you? Can you satisfy make me happy?" She wanted to get on with it. She was hot. Hot like the Santa Ana winds that cover Southern California in the late summer and penetrate the very pores with little gusts of hot wind.
Fire came up in Tony. His eyes flashed it. They changed colors like the colors of the spectrum. He was burning up inside, too. He kicked off his sandals and finished unbuttoning his levi jeans. They fit him skin tight so he had to pull them down over his hips. Susan came over and helped him with his task. She pulled down on the faded denim and knelt to accomplish the task. His Italian cock stood halfway out as the levis dropped around his knees and Susan couldn't resist kissing him on the balls and in the furry pubic hairs that grew in abundance at the root of his prick. Youth. There was nothing in the world like young tender flesh. So firm and so willing and able. She would like to be stranded on an Island of young boys-all between the ages of 16 and 20. What a way to die. Over exhaustion of the best kind.
Tony pulled Susan up and kissed her. He let his tongue play at the corners of her mouth and flicked it across her teeth, touching the edges of the gums. She hadn't remembered a kiss like that before and it was a burning, demanding kiss. She would meet those demands and then some. Tony's hands wandered up and down her backside, touching a spot here and there and letting his fingers run down into the crack that led to her tight little ass. She felt his hardness against her, too. His prick was about 8 inches and thick. She thought every Italian she had ever know had a thick cock of about that same length. She remembered Logan, the Italian boy in London-Angelle's boyfriend. He, too, had that kind of stiff sturdy manhood.
Italians were good at sex. They might be thickheaded and stubborn but they were also thick pricked and intent on satisfaction, too.
"Oh, Tony....you feel so good against me......your body is so smooth but like steel....so beautiful...." She could feel a slight tremble of excitement and anticipation coming from somewhere deep inside her being.
Tony picked her up in his arms and took her to his brass bed with the musty covers and squeaky mattress and springs. He lay her down as gently as a feather and lay down beside her. When the springs began to make their noises his boys would make their way into the scene. He hoped to keep that noise down until he was ready for them. Such a delicacy lay here beside him. Her nipples stood up and the firm round breasts had a slight tremor like jello with little cherries mounted on top. He leaned over and sucked at one of the breasts. Susan reacted like a shot as his hot tongue sent a thrill through her body. She grabbed his head and held it tightly against her breast, squirming and twisting on the bed.
Tony sucked on the tit and let his fingers search for other tender spots of erotica on her body. Down her stomach his gentle fingers traveled and she flinched as he touched tender loving areas of sexual importance about her anatomy.
His hand reached her arched pubic area. She had raised her bottom up slowly as his fingers ran down her stomach and finally reached the high level overlooking her deep chasm of love. She felt the hot fingers running through her even hotter pubic area as the sweat and oil glands began their work and made her hairs silky and moist. Tony hesitated only slightly and let one of his fingers slip down between the crevice to the lips of her slit. Her back arched up even more at this rapid turn of events. Tony's finger slipped in the edge of the opening and fluttered slightly just inside her hole. She grabbed his head and pulled his face up to hers and devoured his mouth with her passion. She let her tongue go to work on his face and mouth, licking, darting slurping and penetrating. She was his match and he hers. It was as if they had both been made for this moment of enlightenment and climax that was sure to erupt in roars of skyrockets and bombs bursting around their heads.
Susan reached down and felt for his meat. It was big in her hand and she squeezed at the big head and felt the wetness where his leakage was taking place. It was a sign of a real sex partner to Susan. Someone who seeped before sex. She had found such men to be as sex oriented as she was.
Tony's hand edged ever closer and his fingers were working diligently inside her. He was working his fingers up to the mid-section of his hand and Susan winced in slight pain as the broad part of his hand came in contact with the stretched pussy skin. He was penetrating her insides with his full head. She felt the fingers working inside her and it was like five different pricks searching and probing for love centers to arouse. The wine had also penetrated into Susan's love centers and each contact was a new sensation.
"Please, Tony. Please, take me. I want you....I need it....I need it badly....please put it in....here," she grabbed at a pillow and humping upward she slipped the pillow quickly under her bottom, pushing and cramming to give her bottom more elevation to be taken.
Tony wanted it to be longer and sweeter but her demands were violent. She twisted and arched her bottom ever up. He was right in his assumption. She was a nympho. She wouldn't mind the bovs at all. She would enjoy it all.
But Tony was not to be rushed. He slid down in the bed, licking and sucking at her body as his head made its journey down to her juicy box. He wanted to eat her and chew on her to satisfy the lust he had for tender plump pussy. His tongue ran through the moist curly hairs that sprouted in a triangle above her luscious slit.
He got between-her legs and threw them over his shoulders. With his fingers he parted the outer layers of her pussy and looked at the beautiful pinkish meat inside. It was like a rare steak that begged to be eaten with appreciation. He went at his task with the finesse of a gourmet. His teeth nibbled and bit at the lips of her pussy and she was beyond herself with pain and pleasure. It was agonizing when he pinched a piece of flesh between his teeth but so pleasurably when she felt the sensation that shot through her loins and into her love seat. Dammit, she thought, why does pain and pleasure go so hand in hand.
But Tony knew what he wanted and he knew how to get the best out of a woman like Susan. It took patience and a slow deliberate trip to the ultimate conclusion.
His tongue slowly penetrated and burrowed inside her hot cunt, dripping with passion and juices. He had done this before. He knew what he was doing. His tongue went slowly inside her. Susan moved frantically on the bed and the springs began their low moaning cry in the middle of the hot afternoon. Tony heard the springs somewhere in the back of his mind but it was a distant screech. He was fucking Susan with his hard, hot tongue. His strokes were not rapid. He was slow and deliberate with each thrust. He shoved with his head rather than his tongue. It was a good way to do it. Susan's cavity filled with pressure as well as tongue and she began to moan deeply and dependently. Tony was so hot he could feel the head of his prick swollen and aching to be satisfied. He knew he would not be able to last long with this woman. He wanted her to be near her peak when he mounted her. One peak would never satisfy her but it would be what he needed and the boys would take care of this luscious bit of Americana.
Tony withdrew his head from her crotch and Susan clawed at the air. "More Tony.....more....don't stop now......" She spoke from a distance. Her body was here but mentally she was in some distant never-never land enjoying strange satisfactions and turbulent erotic desires within her mind and being. She would be outside herself until total satisfaction had been accomplished.
When Tony mounted her he was like a bull. He didn't fuck her-he gored her. He was so passionately aroused that he could not help his charge at her with his demanding, leaking manhood. Demanding to be satisfied and demanding that she do it at once. It was the thing she needed. The urgency of a male meeting her urgency in rough, hard fashion.
Tony knew she was near her first climax so it was easy to bring her to a head. He rammed it home, beating a tatoo on her bottom and his big prick rubbing the itch inside that was now coming to fruition.
She was trapped with her legs in mid-air and Tony in command. His hot juices were coming out of his loins and he could feel the hot stuff coming up through his tubes to the head of his prick where it would burst forth in great quantities. And it did. When he came it was in great spurts and gushes. Susan felt the hot stuff hit her insides like being knocked down by a truck. It sparked her orgasm as if someone had lit a match. She screamed and you could hear it a block away. She clutched at him and her spasms came in equal intensity to his spurting and jerking as he spent himself inside her guts. She was flooded with his lightening sharp ejaculations and Tony could feel the rawness inside his prick as his sperm ripped and tore its way out of his crotch. It was like being skinned alive and he endured the pain and agonv. It was going downhill in a sports car with no brakes. Riding the rapids, hurtling through space to be splattered on the hard concrete of a reality never before known. Tony's orgasms were not the normal kind. They were like that of a woman. He felt the sensations of explosions as did Susan. He had never explained that to anyone. He had never felt the need. But he knew it was a special feeling and he treasured it.
Spent, he withdrew and lay back on the bed beside Susan. Susan who was still in another world waiting for the transportation back again.
She was not left unattended for long. Tony's boys were there. They had lurked in the shadows when the springs were crying out the announcement of Tony's conquest. In turn they approached the bed and in turn they took Susan, each in his own way. With "Big Stick" Susan the head of his big cock. It was all she could do with it. She was being screwed dog-fashioned by one of the boys and "Big Stick" lay at the head of the bed with his long and freakish looking prick standing at attention. As Susan sucked on the head he stroked the length of his tool letting the saliva sliding down from Susan's mouth lubricate it for his stroking hand. His big load shot into Susan's mouth as her current seductor poured his own load of white cream into her bottom humping and groaning as she did so. Susan was getting a fucking like she had never had before. It was the first time in her life that she had been able to just continually get fucked and fucked until her little sex clock finally began to run down.
There were six of them and it was four hours before the final and lasting orgasm came over Susan. It was Tony who topped her for dessert. This time he was able to go longer but Susan was past caring how far and how long. It had reached the place with her where every touch was just another spasm inside her and her clit was worn out from spasms.
When Tony had his climax he held her tightly with her legs bound around his waist. He did not move. He just let his prick throb out its juice inside her and she barely felt the hot liquid squish, squish, squish as it shot in onto the already overly lubricated walls of her exhausted and spent vagina. Tony lay there and let himself go soft inside-not moving-just letting the sex die where it started-on the bed in silence.
"Enough....it is enough Tony...." That was all she said. And it was enough. Tony slowly withdrew and the boys had disappeared.
Back at the hotel she only smiled her appreciation as she gave him the $100. He hadn't expected that much. It had been worth $100 to him and the boys but that's the way it was. Sometimes you get more than you deserve......
CHAPTER TWELVE
Susan was totally and completely exhausted. John was back from his golf date and napping when she entered the hotel suite. While John slept Susan showered, douched and made herself presentable again. As she dried herself in front of a mirror she took stock. What a body she had and what a capacity to take sexual punishment. She noticed a couple of bruise spots. She guessed one of the boys must have pinched her. She couldn't remember. She hadn't felt anything except the wonderful sensation of satisfaction deep inside her body. Only an Italian could think of the things they had done to her today. So much and so good. A lot of people would think she was a slut.
But is it sluttish to enjoy yourself and take advantage of the feelings that God gave you? She didn't think so.
She lay beside John and soon fell asleep. It was dark when she woke up and it was John's hard manhood that rested against the opening of her worn-our pussy. She was not really in the mood for sex. For once in her life she was beyond wanting sex but she couldn't fault John with that so she cooperated as best she could with his advances. As John made the penetration-he was laying on his side facing her-she realized that her pussy was sore. Very sore and his entry was quite painful. She grimaced and John mistook it for sexual moaning. He got rougher with her because he knew she liked her sex rough. Now it hurt badly and she began to fight against his onslaught. It did so good. John now pushed her over on her back and spread her legs apart, going deeper into her already aching and capitulating hole.
Susan attacked him in reverse but he still thought it She was quite to the contrary in great pain. The boys had hurt her and hurt her badly. She knew it now. She hadn't looked at it that way earlier but now the truth was there. They had bruised and torn her insides but she couldn't or wouldn't tell John what had happened that afternoon.
John pumped his prick hard and deep. He increased his tempo as Susan's moans became louder almost to the point of screaming. She put her hand to her mouth and bit down hard on her knuckles to take away from the pain and fiery flame she felt inside her battered and torn pussy.
She prayed John would soon have his orgasm but it was quite a while before he finally poured his hot load into her seared receptacle. She felt the hot stiff flooding and burning. It felt like someone had stuck a hot poker up inside her and broke it off. Even after John withdrew from her she lay there in excruciating pain. She knew John loved her and only her. He tolerated a lot of things and went along with the game from time to time because it pleased her. But he would rather have a normal sex life with Susan and not with the many characters he was forced to cohabitate with in order to make Susan feel that he was as much a swinger as she was. All the experience in France had humbled him and made him conscious that he was not an Island but it hadn't changed his basic structure and feeling. He was in all reality a one woman man no matter who he made love to. Even the boys he found so attractive from time to time were only fleeting and disgusting experiences. Not so disgusting at the moment of contact but the revulsion always came later with the feelings of guilt and repugnance. He wished that Susan could understand all that.
They had been in Rome three days. Susan was sick. She had a fever but she was afraid to say anything about it. She knew John would insist she see a doctor but that would mean an examination and any examination would reveal to the doctor what had happened to her. She couldn't blame it on John and she hadn't told John about the boys. She went through hours of not knowing what she was doing and raging with fever. She encouraged John to get out of the room alone and go places. Every excuse in the world she could muster she did. Anything to keep away from John and the outside world. She took aspirin by the dozens just to hold the fever down. She went through stages of drug hallucination from the aspirin. Yes, aspirin will give you hallucinations if you take enough of them-but be careful. They can also kill you.
She confronted John in another way. She said, "Honey, I don't feel too well. I'd like to start home."
They were having coffee and hot rolls. She felt feverish again. The damned fever had come and gone and returned again. For a while she thought she would be okay but it was only the aspirin supressing the fever. It had to come back.
"What seems to be the trouble? Why don't you see a doctor?" John wasn't alarmed. She hadn't said it with any sense of urgency or desperation. Just made a statement that she wanted to go home because she didn't feel well. It is hard to say what a woman feels when she says she feels unwell. It could mean anything.
She felt edgy and nervous. "I don't want to see a doctor," she snapped at him, "at least not a doctor in Rome. I'll wait until we get home and see doctor Jenkins. It can wait. I'm just tired, rundown and homesick." She lied like a snake and John had an idea she was lying when she said that. He had never known her to be homesick. Maybe sick of home but never sick at being away. She was a goer. Always had been so there must be something more behind all this than what she said.
"Do you mean go straight home-now?" He asked, probing to see if she had something further to add.
"Well, we might stop in Hong Kong or Manila for a day-just to rest. But this trip has exhausted me, John. Do you know how much we've accomplished in the past few weeks? London alone was enough to put an ordinary housewife in the hospital and what about all the orgies in Hamburg and Paris? And don't forget that ordeal in Berlin. I'll never forget that as long as I live. Now it frightens me. Things always frighten me in retrospect. I'm a fool at times John. A terrible romantic fool."
He knew she was trying to tell him something even more than she was saying and it would be up to her to say it-he couldn't and wouldn't drag it out of her. He sat and he listened, munching the roll and sipping coffee from time to time.
He took a direct approach. His decision to be positive was motivated by the fact that he suddenly had a good look at his wife. She looked sick-very sick. He didn't know what it was but there was something physically wrong. He could now see the glassiness of her stare. But he didn't want to overly alarm her so he said, as casually as asking what time it was, "When would you like to leave?"
She responded too quickly for her own comfort and regretted it almost before the words left her tongue. "Now. Let's leave right now. This minute." She started to cry. Trying hard not to but the tears splashed out hot and freely cascading down her face and splattering in the coffee cup on the table in front of her.
John made no move to comfort her. He was embarrassed. He didn't want to overly upset her as she was already on the verge of hysteria. So he continued in the same calm voice. "All right. Let me see if I can make arrangements with the travel desk to get us a flight to Hong Kong." He turned and went in the other room to the phone leaving Susan to compose herself and have her own thoughts and feelings without his intrusion any further. He knew now that they would have to get away from Rome immediately. There was something she wasn't saying and he knew when she finally blurted out what was bothering her it would be an explosion and a doctor would certainly be needed. So he would bide his time and pray that they got home before she broke.
He was lucky. They were able to take a cancelled reservation on a Pan Am flight that afternoon late. It meant going tourist instead of first class but he said that was fine. He wanted to get Susan home. There was panic in his being now. He had never seen her this way and it was frightening not knowing what to do with a woman that wouldn't say what was bothering her yet boiling like a cauldron ready to overflow and scald you with her problem.
In Hong Kong they checked in at the Hilton and Susan's fever was burning. She excused herself from John and went down in the lobby from their room. She went to the manager's office and asked if there was a house doctor. She was sent to the doctor's suite and she explained to the doctor that she was enroute to the United States and had come down with something, perhaps malaria, she wasn't sure but she didn't want to be confined to a hospital until she could get home. Could he please give her something for her fever.
The doctor was not alien to peculiar circumstances. Hong Kong is a city of the world. The international sophisticates often were his patients. He treated everything from jungle fever to the yaws, a veneral disease native to the orient. Many of his patients enroute through the sin city of the world were celebrities from America. Many of them were film stars. He had treated the girl friend of a famous American actor for fungus of the vaginal tract. It was rumored that her boyfriend was a carrier but she claimed to have been in the country and wiped her twat on a leaf when she couldn't find a rest room anywhere. He shrugged and gave her a shot of penicillin. It was useless to argue with people who didn't want to tell you the truth.
He asked Susan if he could examine her. She resisted the idea. "I only have a fever. I want something to reduce it until I get home. That will be in a couple of days. I can't afford to get involved in medical problems away from home. Don't you understand, doctor? I must get home and then I will be able to do what is necessary. Can't you help me?"
Her temperature was over 103 degrees. He knew there was something wrong internally. An infection of some sort but he had been a hotel doctor much too long to try and help if she didn't want any help.
"All right. I'll give you some penicillen and a prescription for anti-biotics you caii take orally. Hut you must know this is only a temporary measure. It is like taking a pain-killer for a cancer. It is only temporary. I advise you to see your family doctor as quickly as possible. These pills I am prescribing-you can pick them up at the pharmacy here in the hotel-they should keep you going for two or three days but you have a serious problem. I can't diagnose it without an examination. I'm sure you know it so it is your life young lady. You are young. Don't waste yourself through negligence."
He wrote out the prescription, had her raise her skirt and gave her a shot of penicillen. He felt the burning flesh of her hip when he inserted the neddle and wondered if she had contracted some tropical or oriental VD. Many of the veneral diseases of the far east were alien strains that were virul and isolated. It was a case of experimenting with he various antibiotics to find which one was the germ killer-and often none could be found for a particular strain of virus and the patient would go raging mad with fever. He hoped that wouldn't be the case with this beautiful young girl with the long black tresses. Why, he wondered, did youth spend itself so recklessly. Why, indeed.
But the doctor had been of genuine help to Susan. Her temperature went down almost immediately and she was able to go out that evening with John for dinner. They had gone to one of the floating restaurants in Kowloon and had a beautiful Oriental menu. But Susan knew the doctor was right. She would have to get home soon. He also had warned her to avoid sex until she had a thorough examination. That would be easy. She didn't have the urge like she usually did. It was as if someone had cut out her clit.
They stayed two days in Hong Kong and Susan counted her pills and the time she had left to get home. But she took them right on time. She didn't pussyfoot around because she knew how she felt when she left Rome. TTie flight to Hong Kong had been a miserable experience. Once she had been asleep on the plane. She woke up in a delirious state and finally convinced John and the stewardess that she was waking from a bad dream. It took her several minutes to come out of the delirium. She had seen monsters coming out of the front end of the plane and the "No Smoking" sign became a snake with flashing eyes and neon tongue. Then the chills came. She wrapped herself in a blanket and cringed against the side of the plane, staring out into the blue skies praying she would stay awake. They had made it. That was when she decided to see the doctor in Hong Kong. It had been a good decision.
She and John went shopping in the garment district of Hong Kong. They bought a lot of clothing. Both for themselves and things for the family. Much of it they had shipped by air freight. Susan spent her bonus money easily. She bought things she wouldn't ordinarily have been able to buy. It was a nice luxurious feeling and something she could easily become accustomed to.
When they arrived in Manila Susan had missed one of her pills and her fever started right up. She quickly took a pill and counted again. She had enough to last her for two more days. That meant they would have to leave for the States tomorrow. It would take some time to get back from Manila-even by plane and she realized what an addict must endure running out of stash. She guarded her little pill box with the fury of a mother hen and her chicks. It was life and existence. John didn't understand what she was doing or about the pills. She hadn't told him of her visit to the doctor. She just didn't want him to be any more concerned than he was already. But she perservered and put up a big front. John was surprised that she wanted to leave the following day though. He knew she had been feeling better and when Susan felt good she usually wanted to go places and do things-and now home.
"She said, "We've come this far and I think we ought to go on home. I have a funny feeling everything is not all right at home." She knew that would set him to thinking. John was a perpetual worrier. He would worry about fire about the car and about his job. That's the way he was. So she gave him something to think about other than her. She had her own problems and she didn't need to have his, too.
They did manage some of the tourist attractions of Manila. They toured the bay and went to Corregidor and Bataan. Susan saw the monuments to the dead of World Warr II and shuddered. Why did the world have to be so brutal?
That night they visited downtown Manila. The theatres with live actors on every block, the beer dives and the girlie shows. It was a quick tour but exemplified the downtown area of any major city. The biggest attractions were always the most sordid.
They rode in the little Jitney busses and Susan was amazed at the Filipino women who smoked cigars with the lit end in their mouth. It was explained to her that there was a certain narcotic effect in the ash. She wouldn't try it. She was afraid she would burn her mouth and let it pass. But it fascinated her.
One thing made her sick and she almost vomited. She noticed women sucking on the end of eggs. They would pick away half the shell and make sucking sounds as they ate. She wondered why they would suck on a boiled egg. She found out that it was called Balut and it was actually eggs that are partially hatched-that is left for half the gestation period and then taken from the chicken and soft boiled. Inside was the white and part of the half-hatched embroy. It was actually the half hatched chicken, soft boiled, that they were eating. It was revolting to Susan but the driver told her it was a delicacy-especially amongst the women. Ugh.
They spent their last night in the Orient. Susan looked out of her hotel window at the city and the bay. Manila the jewel of the Orient. That's what they called it. And it was. The lights glittered and shimmered in the darkness like the exquisite setting of a marquisite dinner ring. The pain and anguish of a giant city couldn't be revealed in all that lovely glitter.
It was a long and tiresome flight home. They had stopped for refueling in Honolulu and John and Susan had taken the three hour layover to have dinner at a hotel on the beach. Susan couldn't remember seeing anything more lovely than the Hawaiian Sunset and she vowed that someday they would return to the islands for a vacation. She had heard about the beach boys and how available they were. In spite of her pain and sickness the old itch was coming back again. She watched the young bus boys weaving in and out between the tables and had a terrible desire to have one of them. But she knew she couldn't. She had a discharge and had been wearing sanitary napkins because of the bleeding that started while she was in Manila. She at first thought it to be her period but it wasn't. She was bleeding from her wounds.
She didn't want to feel any sexual desire. She knew she could do anything about it but suffer. But she was destined to suffer a lot more than she knew.
She took her last pill at dinnertime and prayed she would make it home. They touched down at Los Angeles International Airport at dawn. They were back home. They had indeed been around the world and Susan had screwed everything in sight until she ran into her match in Rome. True, she had missed Sweden and Norway and a few other places they had planned to visit but she had taken in Hong Kong and Manila which hadn't been on their schedule.
But Susan was sick when they got back. She felt the fever and her lips were parched with it. Customs clearance was slow and she was thankful that she had been able to get through all right without any personal delays.
John's parents met them at the airport and Susan was glad it was all over. The last thing she remembered was leaning back in the seat.
When Susan finally came to it was in the hospital and she had been unconscious for two weeks. Dr. Jenkins was the first person she saw when she opened her eyes. She was in sole insolation and not even John was permitted to see her. She had become violently hysterical in her delirous condition when John had visited her that first day after admittance to the hospital as an emergency case. Dr. Jenkins, not knowing what the matter was and being cautious, had barred all visitors. It had been a couple of days before Dr. Jenkins discovered the source of the infection. Obviously one of the boys had not been as clean as he might have been and she had been torn inside by one of them. The unclean boy had carried an infection-not venereal but a fungus infection of some sort and Susan was infected-badly infected. But now she was recovering from that. She had a lot to say to Dr. Jenkins and he had a lot of questions to ask. She bared the entire story to him, leaving out nothing. She told him she wanted to give up the wild swinging life and be true to her husband and raise a family. So Dr. Jenkins arranged for group therapy for Susan.
I don't know if she has made any great progress. I know at the end of her fourth session of therapy she was completely recovered from her internal injuries but the mental situation was something else again. She had open-ed the session with the statement, "You know I have the strongest urge to screw every man I see........"
