Tat, short for Tatania, loved to fuck. She had a hot ass and a wet cunt that couldn't be easily satisfied. Charlie was a real turn-on for her. He was big, good looking, and his hard cock sure did please her, but he was such a bastard. Only thinking about himself and using little Tat for his own perverse pleasure. She wasn't going to take that type of abuse. She'd show him where to get off.
Her mother and stepfather, love Tat and try to protect her from the abuse of the sadistic Charlie.
Olga tells Tat of her own masochistic needs and how she satisfied them in the past.
Unfortunately, Olga's sordid past catches up with her and her daughter, Tat, is abducted and abused by one of her old loves.
Tat's loving spirit and itchy cunt takes her from one mad adventure to another and in the end saves her from the clutches of the perverted Charlie and his sadistic friends.
CHAPTER ONE
Tat was startled into wakefulness by the harsh jangle of the alarm clock. She jabbed at the noisy thing trying to silence it, succeeding only in knocking it off the table. It continued ringing as it lay on the floor out of reach.
"Oh, shit," she said to herself, "Now I've got to get up to shut the damn thing off." Tat would much rather have stayed in bed, day-dreaming about Charlie. She had met Charlie last night and had fallen asleep dreaming about him. He was a big guy, over six feet tall, with curly red hair, a kind of twisted smile that sent shivers through her, and a muscular body that moved with the powerful grace of a tiger. Tat couldn't help but notice the bulge at the front of his pants. Later she found that he had a cock to match the rest of him. But she hadn't had a chance to get the beautiful thing inside of her and with her lousy luck she probably never would.
When she had finally shut off the alarm clock, Tat was still reluctant to get up and get dressed. Just another minute to dream about Charlie, she told herself as she got back under the warm covers. She pulled up her nightgown and brought her palms up to cover her nearly flat breasts. It felt so good when she moved her hands gently back and forth over her hardening nipples. "Oh, yes, Charlie," she whispered, pretending that it was his strong hands that were caressing her small tits. She felt warm all over. God, that was good. She imagined Charlie's face close to hers. She would kiss him, hard, opening her mouth to take in his tongue. Oh, that tongue! It would be almost like having a cock in her mouth--so determined and thrusting, probing every corner of her mouth. She would bite at it gently. Then it would withdraw. Oh, where would it go?
She would stick her own tongue into Charlie's mouth, determined not to let his lovely tongue get away from her. She would probe his mouth desperately to find it again. Then she would feel him sucking her tongue, just the way she would suck at his cock if she got the chance.
She brought one hand down to stroke her belly. She was proud of her belly. It had good muscles and didn't bulge at all the way some girls did. At the same time, her skin was nice and smooth and she had a nice, deep, belly button--just right for Charlie to eat whipped cream or marmalade out of. She had heard that some girls did that. But then, Tat thought, if it came to that, she would much rather have Charlie eat whipped cream, or whatever it was, out of her cunt.
Tat's other hand had somehow found its way to her thigh. That, at least, was something that Charlie had actually done, not simply daydream stuff that she could only picture as happening in the dim future. Unfortunately, she had worn a pants suit last night so that Charlie's hand had been insulated from her thigh by a layer of substantial fabric. Christ, if she had only known what was going to happen, she would have worn a skirt. In fact, she would not even have worn panties.
The hand with which she was stroking the inside of her thigh reminded her of Charlie's touch, all the same. Oh, she thought, this is how it should have been. Her thighs tingled, as she kept up the sensuous stroking "Go on, Charlie," she whispered, imagining how it would feel as Charlie moved his hand higher, ever higher. She was beginning to breathe hard now and her heart was beating faster. Oh, yes if Charlie had got this far, she would not have been able to keep from moving her hips, from spreading her legs. He would have had to go after her cunt. "Take me, Charlie, Please," she would have begged. But, she smiled at the thought, Charlie was the kind of guy who would probably just take his time, waiting until she was really frantic before going on.
Her fingers raked through the luxuriant, tightly curled hair that embellished her mound. How wonderful it would have felt if those had been Charlie's fingers. The fleshy cuntlips were swollen and pouting now. It was as if she had another mouth down there that had a hunger of its own that had to be appeased. She let her finger rest in the slit. God, she was wet--really ready to take in a good, hard, cock. Then an amazing thing happened: she actually felt her cunt drawing her finger inside itself. "Wow," she said to herself. "I must really be horny." She hadn't thought that a cunt could do such a thing. But then she remembered having heard of women who could smoke cigarettes with their cunts. So why couldn't a cunt suck a finger?
She let the finger slip inside, imagining that it was Charlie's. Then she drew it back, letting it glide gently along the folds of wet flesh that enclosed her clitoris. Ah, that was good. The little rootlet tingled and began to harden. Again she plunged the finger into the hot cavern. Was it Charlie's finger that she was imagining, or was it his cock? No, she reflected, Charlie wouldn't have given her his cock. Not yet. Would his tongue feel this way if he were to lick and suck her cunt, she wondered?
Perhaps she could imagine the sensation better if she were able to lick her own cunt. But, of course, that was impossible. Or was it? Well, she could try. She sat up, leaned forward and brought her head down as far as she could. It was no use; her mouth was inches away from her cunt. She had heard that there were guys who could suck their own cocks. Shit, she reflected, this was just one more case where men had the advantage over women: a six inch cock could more easily be self-sucked than could a cunt. Still, her body was lithe and flexible, more so than most men's bodies. After all, she had once studied dancing and acrobatics. Perhaps she could find a way.
She leaned back and began to execute a backwards somersault, stopping herself when her ass reached its highest elevation and her head was bent forward, with her neck and shoulders bearing her weight. Now she bent her knees, bringing them past her shoulders. Well, there's one good thing to be said for having small tits, she thought: they didn't flop down into her face when she got herself into this crazy position. She couldn't think of anything else that was good about having small tits. She had to stop herself from thinking any more about that. She knew that she would only get herself upset if she kept on and the whole, lovely daydream about Charlie would be spoiled.
She could see her cunt now, closer than it had been in her first attempt at licking it. Now she began to bend her back. Inch by inch the hair-covered slot came closer to her face. She could see the droplets of moisture clinging to the coarse hairs and the red, inner cuntlips protruding from the wet crevice. Her back ached as she strained to bring her pussy within range of her mouth. Her pussy hair was just beginning to tickle her chin. She made another effort, straining her back and nearly breaking her neck. She stuck out her tongue. It didn't reach. As she made one more great effort, she began to fear that she might strain or break something. Yet somehow she simply had to do this thing. She was like a mountain climber ready to put everything he had into climbing Mount Everest. She put her tongue out once again to find that this time she had made it!
It crossed her mind that she might very well be the first woman in the entire history of humankind to lick her own cunt. Something like being the first man to walk on the moon, and a hell of a lot more useful, she thought. But who would ever know of her remarkable feat? She had to smile at the crazy thought of newspaper headlines proclaiming the event: "Woman Licks Own Cunt." Should she make a statement-something like "One small nip for woman, a giant lick for womankind?"
There was another historic first connected with this event: She would be the first woman who could state definitively, unequivocally, whether or not her cunt smelled, and if it did. how. Now the men's-locker-room legends of fishy smelling cunts could be met head on, so to speak. Not only that, but Tat could not test all the vaginal deodorants, flavoring agents, and the like in the certain knowledge of what her man would smell and taste when he gave her head. Ah, but that was the question. When, if ever, would Charlie be giving her head?
Holding her body in the strained position into which she had contorted it, she began licking her cunt. There was a tangy, slightly sour taste that she didn't mind at all. The sensation in her cunt was terrific. One thing she saw immediately: No one could do better things to her cunt than she was doing now for herself. She knew exactly where to lick, how fast, and with how much pressure. That was something no lover, no matter how sensitive, could do. Her cunt had begun to throb with heightened desire. She began licking more rapidly, running the tip of her tongue along the tiny shaft of her clit first on one side and then on the other. How she wished that she could get her mouth close enough to take the little bud in her lips and suck on it. She brought her hand up and frantically thrust three fingers into the depths of her hot cunt. Oh, that was good! That was how it would feel when Charlie, at last, would shove his cock into her.
She began building toward climax. "Yes, yes, that's it, Charlie," she whispered to her imaginary lover. "Come on, give it to me! Slower, slower... but make the strokes longer. Yes! Send it in deeper, deeper. Let me feel that cockhead hitting the back of my cunt." She was sweating and her face was twisted as she focussed her entire consciousness on reaching the peak of sensation. There it was! Now! Now! She felt the sexual tide sweep over her as the climax began.
"That's the goddamdest thing I've ever seen," a male voice boomed. "You could make a fortune doing that trick in the movies, or maybe in the circus."
"Damn you, Gil Parker. Get the hell out of my room!" Tat shouted. She snapped out of her weird position, grabbed the first thing that came to hand, and threw it at him. The alarm clock sailed wildly past him, crashing against the wall. "Can't I have any privacy around here?" she screamed.
"You've got privacy. Anything we do around here is strictly within the family, absolutely private."
"That's not what I mean and you know it. Jesus, just because you're my stepfather doesn't give you the right to come barging into my room any old time you feel like it. Besides, what would my mother say if she knew you were in here with me while I'm naked like this?"
"Olga's too pooped after the fucking I just gave her to move out of bed. But if she did come in here, she'd probably wonder why you're entertaining me with your clothes off."
"Entertaining you? I'm not entertaining you. Now, please, Gil, get out. I've got to get dressed and go to work."
Gil ignored Tat's protests. "Oh, but you have been entertaining me. What you were just doing was exceedingly entertaining, believe me. And now I want you to entertain me some more." With that remark, Gil seized Tat and laid her down upon the rug at his feet.
He was strong as an ox, Tat noted. Although she had tried to resist him, he had handled her almost without effort. The surprising thing was that though he was overpoweringly strong, he was at the same time exceedingly gentle. He was able to do what he wanted with her without hurting her at all.
He was certainly not much to look at. He was only of medium height. He had a thick, muscular neck, strong biceps, and legs like a Percheron. His big beer belly hung down over his belt. Tat wondered if that bay window of his interfered with his fucking. (Well, her own experience had just taught her that the human anatomy is capable of overcoming all sorts of obstacles.) He smelled like a horse. What did her mother find attractive about him, she wondered?
He was wearing jockey shorts and an undershirt. Tufts of hair stuck out above the neckline of the undershirt. Tat looked at the great bulge that was visible in his Jockey shorts, hoping that he did not notice her inspection. But he had caught her glance.
"So what do you think I've got in here, a bunch of bananas?" he laughed as he gestured toward his groin. "I saw you looking at it. Well, all I have is the usual standard equipment. Though you got it heated up a little with that little stunt you were doing." Then without blinking an eyelash, Gil quickly-stripped off the shorts and the undershirt. "OK," he said. "Take a good look, why don't you?"
Tat was shocked by what she saw. Lying at Gil's feet, she had a striking view of the thing. It seemed oddly gnarled and rough, more like a tree limb than the sexual implement Nature had intended it to be. Great purple veins coursed along its length and a heavy cord, that looked almost like a bone, seemed to support it from the under side. How majestically it swayed when Gil moved his body.
He reached down, grabbed Tat's thighs, and dragged her, ass-end-up, into a position like the one in which he had found her when he had first entered her room. Her wet cunt was right in front of him, just at cock height. He brought the big, pink cockhead into contact with Tat's slit.
"Hey, cut it out," she cried. "I don't want you to fuck me. Now stop it or I'll scream. I swear I will. I'll tell everybody that my stepfather raped me."
Gil backed off, still holding Tat upside down. "Shit, Tat," he said. "Why do you have to be so goddam difficult? Why make such a big deal out of a little friendly fuck?" Apparently he had abandoned hope of. accomplishing his purpose, for now he let go of her.
"You'd better put your clothes on and get out of here, before Olga catches you. What will she think if she finds her husband trying to make it with her daughter?"
"But Tatiana, my dear stepdaughter, you're forgetting that you're just as naked as I am. Olga might very well think that her daughter is trying to seduce her husband. There'd be hell to pay then."
The logic of both arguments was equally convincing, so both hastened to clothe themselves. Then Gil sat down on Tat's bed, and asked with a sly smile, "Tell me. Tat. Who's Charlie?"
"How did you hear about Charlie?"
"From you. When you were performing a little while ago, every once in awhile, you gasped, 'Oh, Charlie!' Whoever he is. He really seems to turn you on."
Tat decided to tell him about Charlie. She told him about how she had gone to a bar the night before and came upon a party in action. Everyone was dancing and drinking up a storm.
They stayed until the place closed, and then Ralph, the owner, who was a friend of one of the men, invited them all to come to a party that he was having at his apartment. They were all in high spirits, having spent the earlier part of the evening drinking and dancing to the stimulating music.
Tat had gone into the kitchen for more ice for her drink. "Shit," she grumbled softly, addressing no one in particular. She was having trouble with the ice dispenser, and had just decided to give up trying to get ice out of it.
"It works like this," said the big red-haired guy standing behind her. He took the glass from her hand, and moved a lever on the fridge that Tat had failed to notice before. A couple of lumps of ice plopped into her drink.
"Thanks," she said. "It's easy when you know how."
"Like you?"
"What do you mean?" Tat asked, perplexed.
"What I mean is, would you be easy if I knew how."
"That's a very impertinent question," Tat responded, pretending to be outraged. "However," she smiled with mock coyness, "They say that any girl is easy if the guy knows how. The question is, do. you know how?"
"Try me and see."
"I'm sorry. I'm old-fashioned. I don't try anybody whose name I don't know."
The guy really turned her on, Tat had to acknowledge to herself. Cool it, cool it, she kept telling herself. She felt like a cat in heat, wanting to rub her body against the big brute. She tried to keep herself from imagining how his big hands would feel moving over her body. What it would be like to have his muscular arms close around her.
"My name is Charlie Gordon," he said, offering his hand.
"And mine is Tat Parker," she said, shaking hands. "My, how formal you are," she laughed. Well, she thought, at least shaking hands provides a little physical contact.
"Did you say, 'Pat Parker'?"
"No, Tat, with a T. It's short for Tatiana. It's one of those Russian names. My mother's Russian, you see."
Suddenly, Charlie reached out, placing one of those big hands of his on Tat's ass. He gave the muscle an admiring squeeze. She jumped out of his grip, nearly spilling her drink. Almost instinctively, she spun around and nearly succeeded in shoving her knee into his groin. But with catlike speed and grace he dodged the blow.
"If that's your idea of how, you're trying the wrong girl, Charlie," she said, walking away.
"I'm sorry, Tat. I guess I was overcome by that cute ass of yours. Will you accept my apology?"
"All right. I'll give you another chance. Though I really shouldn't. But no more grab-ass, understand?"
What a shame. Tat thought. She really dug this guy, and didn't mind at all having him feel her ass. But a girl has to keep up some appearances, doesn't she? It just didn't seem right, letting him feel her up out here in the bright kitchen in front of people she hardly knew. And besides, she had only just met the guy.
Thinking of groping and grabbing, she could feel her palm literally itching to fondle the bulge in Charlie's pants. She hoped that her display of outrage, sensible and proper as it was, would not foreclose the future opportunities for her to feel and be felt by Charlie.
"They're dancing in the other room," Charlie said. "Why don't we dance, too?"
To Tat's surprise, despite the frantic rock beat of the music, the dancers were moving slowly and languorously, taking one shuffling step for perhaps eight beats of the bass. It was very dark in the room, and the couples had no hesitation about bringing their bodies into the closest possible contact. Some couples had evolved a really novel dance position in which each partner held the other by the cheeks of the other one's ass.
Charlie and Tat joined the other couples, and soon, they too were pressed belly to belly, chest to tits. Lord, that was good, Tat thought.
She thrust her pelvis forward better to feel the pressure of Charlie's crotch-bulge against her. He was so tall that all that meat of his seemed to be pushing into her belly button.
Despite the layers of clothing that separated them, she could clearly discern Charlie's hardening cock. It felt as if he were packing a salami around in his shorts.
Again, Charlie put his hand on her ass. This time she didn't protest. After all, she had clearly made him horny; how could she object when he acted accordingly?
Besides, she thought as she looked around her, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. And these Romans were certainly doing it!
Now he had begun to kiss her. He had a lovely mouth, and at first, she simply relaxed to let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips moving over her face, her eyelids, and her throat. But now she wanted something more.
She planted her mouth on his, greedily opening her lips to admit his tongue. She sucked at the tip of it to draw it deep inside her mouth. Now without a word, he turned away from her. "Charlie," she gasped, in a panic. What was wrong? How could he be so cruel, to stop now. But her misgivings were short-lived. For Charlie took her hand gently, and firmly led her from the room.
They entered one of the bedrooms, and sat on the bed. Charlie resumed kissing her. Soon he was breathing hard, and an urgent look came over his face as he pushed her down upon the bed.
He lay facing her, throwing one leg over her hip to let her feel the hard flesh of his groin pressing against her.
Then he put a hand to her tit. As if she were brushing off a mosquito, she brusquely shoved his hand away.
"What is it with you, bitch?" he said angrily. "Cock teasing is kid stuff. I thought you were beyond that."
That felt awful. She had acted by reflex, almost instinctively, to reject Charlie. But she didn't want him touching her tits.
Not yet, anyway. She had her reasons, but this was not the time to discuss them.
"Please, Charlie," she said. She put her hand to his crotch, and gently stroked the great lump that she felt there. Maybe doing this would let him see that she was not trying to play coy with him.
At least, she hoped so!
Apparently, the stratagem worked, for he relaxed, luxuriating in her touch. Then once again he reached for her tit. This time, she kept her cool, and instead of brushing him away, merely said, "Not yet, Charlie, please."
She reflected that Charlie was apparently a gentleman. Of the various criteria that characterize a gentleman, one requires him to always go after the tits first.
Well, he had now made two passes at her tits. She hoped that that would satisfy Charlie's notions of gentlemanly protocol, and that he could feel free to turn his attention to other parts of her anatomy. Then, she thanked her lucky stars. She felt his hand touch her thigh.
Now it was Charlie's time to be a crotch-groper. His hand was cupping her mound now. How wonderful it felt, so cozy and comforting, yet at the same time, exciting. She felt herself letting go, drifting with the tide of desire that seemed to be drawing her along.
She could feel her cunt juices flowing, wetting her panties. If Charlie could see her cunt lips now, she was sure that he would find them gaping open, ready for him to shove in a finger, or a tongue, or a cock.
If he wanted to, she was ready to let him pull down the bottom of her pants suit. But Charlie continued stroking her crotch as if that were the ultimate sexual fulfillment he desired. Would he never get around to going after her cunt, she wondered? Perhaps she could move things along, if she took the initiative. She reached for his zipper, and slowly started pulling it down.
Suddenly, the door of the bedroom burst open, and two naked girls ran in, slamming the door behind them. They threw themselves against the door, barely managing to keep it closed against the counterforce of what sounded like a regiment of drunken, shouting men.
--'Come on, Delia, be a sport," said a man's voice from the other side of the door. "You, too, Beth," said another. "Open up, dammit, we won't hurt you!"
"Fuck you, buster," one of the girls replied. She was a rather plump blonde with big pendulous breasts. "Nobody does that to me" she cried angrily.
"Shit, Beth," she said to the other girl. "Did you see what they were trying to do to me? The sons-of-bitches were trying to shove a coke bottle up my ass."
"I know," said the other girl. "They're stoned out of their minds. The bastards tried to put a cigar in my cunt, lighted! I'm not going back out until they leave. Shit," she added, "you try to liven up the party by stripping, or maybe sucking a few cocks, and a couple of idiots have to go crazy and behave like baboons."
The girl who spoke last, apparently the one named Delia, was slim and well proportioned. Her dark pubic hair was extraordinarily bushy, Tat noticed.
It stood out from her body a good three inches. But the most noteworthy feature of her anatomy was her amazing boobs. Tat had never seen such pointed breasts except on a twelve-year-old, and Delia was obviously in her twenties. Did nature bless her with those phenomenal tits, or was it done with silicone?
Apparently, their pursuers had given up trying to induce Delia and Beth to return to the party, for the door-pounding and shouting had ceased.
This enabled the two women to relax and look around the room.
"Charlie!" Delia exclaimed. "I didn't know you were in here. What are you two doing in here, anyway, having a friendly little chat?"
"Wow," laughed Beth. "I never thought I'd see the time when Charlie Gordon would take a girl into a dark bedroom and just talk to her. Hell, even if she's got the curse she could at least give you a little head. Say, who is she anyway?"
Charlie introduced Tat to Delia and 'Beth. Tat smiled and tried to be polite, hoping they would go away. What a lousy break this was, and just when she was about to make it with Charlie.
"Those animals out there certainly seemed to be giving you two a hard time. It sounds as if they've gone away now, though," Tat said.
"I do believe she wants us to go away and leave her alone with Charlie," said Delia. "I don't know about you, Beth, but I'm not in any hurry to give those drooling idiots another chance to maim me."
"That goes for me, too," the other girl added. "Besides, we can have a little fun with Charlie ourselves. After all, we're old friends, aren't we, Charlie dear?"
They didn't wait for an answer, but instead, turned their attention to Tat. "To begin with," Delia said, "I don't think Tat's been treating our friend Charlie very well, at all. Look," she added, touching Charlie's crotch, "he doesn't even have a hard-on."
"Well, he did before you two came busting in on us," Tat protested.
"Really?" said Beth. "And you with all your clothes on, too. That's remarkable." . "What do you say, Beth?" asked Delia.
"Shall we teach Tat how to take care of Charlie properly?"
Delia didn't wait for Beth's answer, but immediately advanced on Tat. Beth joined her. and together they began trying to pull off the top of Tat's pants suit.
"No, no, leave me alone you filthy whores," Tat shouted. "You're no better than those bastards outside who were after you."
Tat's protests and insults only enraged the two. Now I've done it, she thought. Despite her most valiant efforts, she couldn't prevail against the two of them, especially now that they were angry. Soon they had pulled off the garment and started to work on Tat's padded bra.
"Charlie," she screamed. Surely he would protect her against these Amazons. But Charlie sat quietly on the bed, watching. He had a big grin on his face. Apparently, he was getting a kick out of watching the women fight.
"How about that?" Delia exclaimed, as she managed to tear off Tat's bra. "Look at the padding in this thing. She certainly likes to give nature a big boost."
Tat was mortified. She sat with her hands hiding her minuscule breasts to keep Charlie from seeing how little bust development she had. Life was unfair, she thought. Why did all the other women seem to have big boobs, while she had a chest, that except for nipples, was almost like a boy's?
"Oh, the hell with her," Beth said. "Let Miss Modesty sit there hiding her tits. Come on, let's play with Charlie ourselves." With that, she started yanking on his belt buckle, and pulling down his zipper.
Delia seemed ecstatic at joining this new game and commenced to pull off Charlie's shoes, and then to begin drawing his pants over his feet. Now at last, Tat saw the cock whose magnificence until now she could only infer from the lump she had felt in Charlie's pants.
Arising from the red tangle of hair at his groin was this extraordinary white shaft. No longer erect, it bent downward in a gentle arc so that Tat could not get as clear a view of it as she would have liked. As she turned to see it better, Delia noticed Tat's fascination.
"Oh, would you like to join the fun, Miss Modesty?" she mocked. "There's plenty of cock for everybody when Charlie's the cod driver. But you've got to uncover your tits, if you want to play."
"Yeah, come on. Tat." Charlie urged her. "If you can see my cock, why can't I see your tits?"
Now both Delia and Beth took up the campaign. Delia grabbed Tat's shoulders while Beth forced her ands away from her breasts.
"Well, look at that," Beth whooped. "Like two peas on a shingle. She's got no tits at all. No wonder she hides them."
"You're horrible, all of you," Tat cried as she burst into tears. "I can't see why you had to be so damned mean. I wasn't spoiling your fun, why did you have to spoil mine? You're rotten, all of you," she yelled, grabbing her clothes, and running from the room, crying.
"What a lousy experience," Gil Parker said sympathetically, when Tat had finished her story. He patted the back of her hand gently. "But if I were you," he added, "I would forget about Charlie Gordon. He treated you like shit, letting those two bitches humiliate you that way. All he deserves from you is a kick in the balls."
"I know," Tat said. "But I just can't get him out of my mind." A dreamy look came over her face, as she thought once again about his curly red hair and that beautiful body of his.
"There's no understanding women," Gil said in despair. "Hey, look what time it is. Hurry up and finish dressing, and I'll do the same, and give you a ride to your office. You'll never make it on time if you take the bus now." As they drove along, Gil seemed preoccupied. Tat was also absorbed in her own thoughts, so she was somewhat startled, when Gil suddenly broke the silence. "You know, I think something might be done about your problem," he said.
"What problem? You mean Charlie?"
"Are you kidding? I mean your tits."
"Hah! Making little tits big is like trying to grow hair on a bald head."
"Don't be so sure. There's this doctor I heard of who's supposed to be able to do it."
"Which? Bald heads or tits?"
"Tits. One of the guys at the plant was telling me that his wife went to this guy. She used to be flat as a board, and now he says she's got big, sexy boobs. I'll get the name and address."
"Oh, Gil, would you? Oh, you're wonderful!" In her exuberance, she kissed him eagerly.
Maybe her mother wasn't wrong at all about the guy, she thought. He was really okay.
CHAPTER TWO
For three weeks, Tat faithfully took the pills that Dr. Schmerz had prescribed. Every night before she went to bed she would carefully examine her breasts to see whether the much-desired hillocks had started to form.
Sometimes, Tat was sure that the flat plane of her chest was exhibiting some signs of becoming rounded. But after another day had passed, she would have to admit that it had all been wishful thinking, and that she had no more of a bust than she had ever had.
She was getting ready for bed one night when she saw the door of her bedroom opening. She quickly drew her bathrobe around her as Gil entered the room.
"Dammit, Gil," she said angrily. "Why can't you knock before you barge in here like that?"
"Oh, come on, now, Tat," Gil said. "I've already seen you lick your own cunt. There isn't any part of you that I haven't seen, so what's the use for you to turn modest now?"
"Okay, so you've seen it all. Still, since it's my body, I want to be the one who decides when somebody gets a look at it."
"You win," Gil yielded. "All the same, I have to admit that I'll miss being able to sneak a look. It makes me envy your friend Charlie. I'll bet he got a good look and probably a lot more besides a look."
"Fuck Charlie," Tat said disgustedly. "He can go duck his head in a bucket of shit for all I care."
"That's certainly a change. The other day you really had the hots for him. What happened?"
Tat told Gil how she had been thinking about Charlie while she was in Dr. Schmerz's examining room, and how angry she had got suddenly at Charlie for the humiliation she suffered. Since, once she had breasts, she wouldn't have to do without men, because of her embarrassment over her tiny breasts, she decided that Charlie could go fuck himself or Delia, or Beth.
"Furthermore," she said, "I'll piss on him before I'll let him fuck me."
"I hate to be an I-told-you-so, but didn't I say he was no good for you?" Gil asked. "You mentioned Dr. Schmerz. Was he able to help you?"
"I've been taking the pills that he prescribed every day for three weeks. But I don't see any change. My chest is still flat as a board."
"Maybe it has changed, but since you look at it every day, the change may be too gradual for you to notice it. Why don't you ask Olga to take a look?"
"That's a good idea," Tat replied. 'Til ask her to take a look right now." She got up to go to her mother's room.
"You'll have to wait till this evening, to see Olga," Gil said. "She's driven out to the shore to see your aunt. But I'll take a look if you want me to," he volunteered.
"Shit, Gil," Tat said, "you are a dirty old man, always figuring ways to get a peek at my body. I can't see why you have to do that. After all, you have my mother. Or is the old lady keeping her legs crossed or something?"
Gil laughed. "Let me tell you, Tat. Your mother's much too horny to be able to stop fucking when she gets mad at me. No, we both like sex too much for us to be able to take out our resentments against each other that way. But a guy does like to have a change of pace now and then."
"What does that mean?"
"Just that a steady diet of making it with only one person gets dull. After all, you'd probably get pretty tired of eating nothing but roast beef every day."
"What about mother? Does she need a change of pace, too? Shouldn't sauce for the gander be good for the goose?"
"Of course. Let me tell you, I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if Olga's getting laid by your Uncle Henry, at this very moment. She visits her sister, all right. And her sister's husband as well."
"Doesn't that make you mad?" Tat asked, amazed. "Shit the newspapers are full of stories of guys killing their wives' lovers. But you don't seem bothered at all."
"The difference between me and those guys is that I'm civilized. What's so terrible about Olga's needing a little variety? It just makes it all the better when I make it with her."
He really was a nice guy, Tat thought. She smiled as she looked at him. Maybe her mother wasn't so dumb to marry him after all, despite the way he looked. With that big chest, and low-hanging belly, none of the young chicks would give him a second look, much less a piece of ass. Who did he fuck besides her mother, she wondered?
Well, one thing was certain. Gil was a hell of a lot better guy than her real father had been. Tat had never known the guy but Olga had told her the whole story.
Poor Olga was working as a waitress in a highway diner when she. met Bart. He came in one night driving a tractor-trailer. Although she feigned disinterest, she was really fascinated by him the first time she saw him. He was a handsome devil, with black hair and a bold black moustache.
Olga brought pie and coffee to the booth where he was sitting, and he pinched her ass when she turned to go back to the kitchen. She should have realized then, that the smartest thing she could do would be to leave that bastard strictly alone For his pinch wasn't a friendly amorous gesture; it was a hard, cruel act of torment.
The trouble was that all the other girls who worked at the diner had boyfriends or husbands except Olga. She used to worry herself sick that she was some sort of ugly duckling. Men would get friendly with her, and even take her out dancing or to a movie, but then they would drop her like a hot potato.
"Cold tomato, not hot potato is the problem," said one of the girls in whom Olga confided her troubles. "If you want them guys to come back, you've got to put out a little. Shit, you're easily the best-looking girl in the place. But that's not enough. Don't you know that all men are just a bunch of sex-mad pigs? Give them a chance to shove their cocks into that pretty little cunt of yours, and you'll have so many of them coming around, that you'll have to beat them off with sticks."
"Sure, I know," Olga agreed. "But I just haven't met any guy that I want to get intimate with."
"Listen to her," said her confidante, "get intimate with. What a hoity-toity way to talk. What do you think you are, a goddam princess or something? Okay, the choice is up to you. Either go on being a perpetual virgin, with no men friends, or spread those gams and fuck a little, and have some fun the way the rest of us do."
Olga promised herself that when the next attractive guy came along, she would yield her long-preserved virginity. She was sure that it was pointless to do otherwise. As fortune would have it, it was Bart who was to be the instrument of her defloration.
He made the usual overtures after which they arranged that he would pick her up at the diner when her shift was over. Olga was hoping that he would take her to some place that had good music where they could have some drinks and dance a little. But Bart had other ideas. He drove immediately to a drive-in movie.
They had hardly got the car parked and the speaker in the window, when Bart grabbed her and pulled her roughly against his chest.
"Hey, take it easy," she protested.
"Bullshit, baby. I gotta have you right now."
"But it hasn't even got dark yet. At least wait till the sun goes down. Besides, I don't even know your last name."
"Well, you know my first name. So you're doing better than some of the bags I make it with."
She had to do something to slow this guy down. Maybe getting some refreshments would distract him for awhile. "Bart, honey, would you get me a soda, or something?" she asked in what she hoped was a sweet, sexy voice.
"Okay, baby, I'll fix you right up." He left the car and returned with a couple of cokes. But instead of handing her her drink, he reached over and opened the glove compartment and took out a bottle of whiskey. Then he opened it and handed Olga the bottle.
"Here, drink up. You can use the coke as a chaser," she said.
"But Bart, I don't want this stuff," Olga protested. "All I want is something nice and cool. Why don't you just let me have the coke?"
"Drink the booze, baby," Bart said in a threatening tone. He grabbed her knee with his big paw and squeezed it painfully. Olga was terrified. This Bart was turning out to be a beast. Afraid of opposing him, she took the bottle and sipped a little of the contents.
"More," he growled. "You can take more than that.'" Olga took a big gulp and nearly choked on it. That seemed to satisfy Bart, for the moment.
He released his grip on her knee, and gave her the coke to ease her burning throat. Then he seized the bottle and took a hefty draught of it.
The effect of the whiskey on Bart seemed slight, but Olga felt her head reeling. The next swig didn't bother her as much as the first had done. And Bart didn't have to threaten her as much to get her to drink this one, either. She found herself beginning to relax. Maybe Bart wasn't so bad after all, she thought.
It had now grown quite dark, and the movie had begun. It was some silly science fiction thing about giant ants that were trying to eat up the world. They had been created accidentally in the laboratory of this bumbling old professor. His brave, young lab assistant rescues the professor's daughter -and saves the world at the same time.
But Bart wasn't interested in the movie. All he cared about was getting his hands under Olga's skirt. As for Olga, she had made up her mind to let him get to her cunt, but she wanted him to take his time so she could enjoy the seduction.
Every time Olga tried to take his hand off her thigh, he would get rough with her, twisting her arm, or even slapping her. Whenever he did these things, his eyes would flash and his breathing would become heavy. Olga began to realize that he wanted her to oppose his advances, since overpowering her gave him some kind of special thrill.
Little by little, Bart made steady progress against Olga's weak defenses. He had torn the panties right off her, and ripped open the snaps of her bra. He had had to leave her dress on the upper part of her body, since they could be observed by anyone who chose to look their way.
With Olga's bra loose, however, Bart could rudely thrust his hands under her dress and squeeze her tits. In spite of his roughness (or was it because of it?), Olga found herself enjoying the sensations that radiated from her boobs throughout the rest of her body.
Then suddenly, he pulled down his zipper and hauled out his prick. For a moment, she was terrified when she saw. the angry-loo king thing. The first impression that she had of it was that it looked something like a red-headed mushroom. Of course, no mushroom had a stalk as stout as Bart's prick. If he meant to shove that monstrous thing into her small cunt, she was afraid that something inside her would be damaged.
"Okay, Olga, baby. Get your mouth on my cock, and give it a good sucking," Bart snarled.
"Please Bart. Don't make me do that. I've never done that sort of thing before."
"No kidding?" he laughed. "Then it's about time you learned."
"No, Bart, please," she begged as he pressed her head down.
He grabbed her hair and began to twist it painfully. "Get your mouth on it, bitch," he rumbled at her. The more she resisted and tried to protest the harder he twisted her hair.
At last, when she could stand the pain no longer, Olga opened her mouth, and tentatively took in part of Bart's cockhead.
"What's the matter? Afraid to put the tip in your mouth? Those few drops of love juice won't poison you. Hah!" he laughed. "You'll be tasting more than that before long. Come on, now, take in the whole head."
Olga's mouth was filled with the thing but Bart still wasn't satisfied. He pressed her head down in such a way that she was forced to take in not only the head, but several inches of Bart's cock shaft as well.
"Ahhhh, that's good," Bart said, as he tried to push his prick even deeper into Olga's mouth. "Now suck."
Despite a certain revulsion that she felt, Olga forced herself to suck gently on the strange piece of firm flesh, that was filling her mouth.
"Do you call that sucking?" Bart complained. "That's not an ice cream cone you've got there. Put some energy into it. Come on now, suck!"
Thank God, Olga thought, as she began to suck more vigorously on Bart's cock. He had stopped twisting her hair and for the first time she was not being made to suffer at Bart's cruel hands.
She didn't mind having to suck this strange, hard blob of flesh. In fact, there was something about it that she found curiously pleasant. Perhaps it was the sense of power that she felt at being able to induce such powerful reactions in Bart by merely sucking his prick.
He seemed to be going mad, for he began to gasp for breath, to break into a sweat, and to make ghastly noises.
Were it not for the fact that he continued trying to shove her head further down onto his cock, she might have thought that he was in agony, rather than experiencing paroxysms of pleasure.
"Yeah, yeah, that's it. Just like that. Keep it up. Now, now! More, more! Ahhh... " His body writhed as if it were out of the control of his brain. He shoved his cock so far into Olga's mouth that she feared for a moment that she would choke. And then his hot gism came spurting into Olga's mouth.
Olga thought that she would surely choke, as her throat filled with the hot, sticky, slightly salty stuff. She wanted to pull the throbbing cock out of her mouth and spit out the gooey stuff but Bart kept his firm grip on her neck, keeping his prick well seated in her mouth.
"Oh, so you want to get it out of your mouth, do you? Well, forget about that. Go ahead, swallow the come. It won't hurt you. Damn it, I said swallow it." With that, he began twisting Olga's hair once again. And again, she had to yield.
At last, her ordeal was over. Olga felt Bart's cock beginning to lose its rigidity, and he no longer opposed her attempt to get it out of her mouth.
Suddenly, Olga felt she was going to be sick. The entire experience had been too much for her. Too much booze that she had drunk too fast, the torture that Bart had inflicted on her, and finally, having been made to swallow a load of his come.
She opened the car door, leaned out and puked. When it was over, she tried to clean herself up as best she could, but she was still a mess. Her bra was still unfastened, and her tits hurt where the shoulder straps caught them.
Her dress was all twisted and several buttons were missing. Her hair, of course, was completely messed up, thanks to Bart's twisting it. Well, she thought, the way she looked now, Bart would probably leave her alone, and not demand that she yield her cunt to him.
Besides, now that he had shot his load, he probably wouldn't even be capable of making another sexual foray!
Her calculations were quite wrong, however. Apparently, her dishevelled state only heightened Bart's interest. He hadn't bothered to put his cock back inside his pants, and she saw with amazement that the damn thing was hard again.
Bart saw Olga looking at his cock.
"Thought you were through with it, did you? Well, you're not. Not yet. This cock hasn't sampled your cunt yet."
He grabbed her, pulled up her dress and turned her around to face him.
"Come on, raise up your legs. That's it. Higher. Now bend your knees. Come on, hurry!"
He got her into a sort of jack-knife position, with her knees touching her tits. Then he put one hand under each cheek of her ass, and lowered her so that his cock entered her cunt.
"Ohhh, Bart, take it easy, please!" she screamed. This was her first time, and that hard hunk of meat that he was shoving into her felt as it if were breaking something inside her.
She felt something inside tear, and a gush of blood drained out of her cunt down along Bart's cock, but neither her protests, nor the blood had any restraining effect upon him. If anything, they only served to intensify his vicious thrust.
"A goddam virgin!" he exclaimed. "I hit the jackpot this time. Let's bust that cherry. Yeah, yeah!" he grunted, as he thrust his cock into Olga with one savage thrust after another. Poor Olga's pain grew more intense with each of Bart's strokes.
She couldn't suppress the scream that came from her throat, and the more she screamed, the more excited and savage Bart became. At last, Bart shot his load into her. and the torture was over.
"Okay, baby, that's all," Bart said as he wiped his bloody come-smeared cock with Olga's torn panties. "You can get out now." He opened the door on Olga's side.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean just what I say. Get out. You're messing up my car, bleeding and dripping come all over the seat."
"Aren't you going to take me home?"
"What for? You gave me a blow, job, and I've fucked you already. I don't feel like doing any more."
With that, he shoved her so that she nearly fell out of the car. Then he slammed the door and drove off with a loud roar, to the consternation of the other patrons of the movie.
Somehow, bedraggled and bruised as she was, Olga managed the long walk back to her tiny apartment. When she went back to work at the diner the next day, the girls asked about her bruised face. A few of the cruder ones suggested that perhaps she had had a wild roll in the hay with some stud. But Olga said nothing.
But, as time passed, she began to think over her experience. Her first reaction had been to conclude that nothing good could result from associating with men.
The trouble was, that in spite of herself she found that she liked them. They were fun to be with, and you could talk to them differently from the way you talked to a woman. And, dammit, she had to admit that she liked the way that they looked at her ass, and tried to look down her dress to get a peak at her tits.
Of course, she realized they all wanted to fuck. Well, what was so bad about that? Surely, they weren't all animals like Bart. Anyway, she had heard that the first time was the bad time, and she had got through that now.
What she found hard to face was the fact that in some crazy way she still looked forward to seeing Bart once again. There was no denying that he was handsome. And there was something mysterious inside her that responded to his cruelty. That was a terrible thing to have to admit to herself, but it was there, and she had to face it.
Then one day, he came back to the diner. As he sat in a booth, he kept looking around, ignoring all the waitresses, until he spotted Olga. That seemed unlike him. She had thought that to Bart, one cunt was like another.
When she came over to take his order, his face lighted up like Dr. Livingstone's at the arrival of Stanley. As Olga stood near him, waiting for him to make up his mind what to order, he ran his hand along her leg, and part of the way up her thigh.
"Same old Bart, I see," she said. "Come on, Feeling Felix, get your hand back where it belongs, and let's have your order."
"Not until you agree to a date with me after work tonight."
"I must be insane to do it, but okay. Now, can I have your order?"
This time, they didn't go to the drive-in movie, but instead to Olga's apartment. That way, she figured when he had got himself all fucked out he wouldn't throw her out.
The worst that would probably happen would be that he would fall asleep and spend the night in her bed, and that prospect did not seem unpleasant.
No sooner had they entered her apartment, and closed the door, when Bart seized her from behind, his hands roughly grabbing her tits.
He thrust his pelvis forward so that she could feel the bulge at his groin thrusting against her ass. He was one homy son-of-a-bitch, all right. Well, for that matter, there were vague sensations in her cunt that kept reminding her of Bart's cock and the warmth it had generated in her glory hole.
Despite the fact that his hands were squeezing her tits too hard, she pushed her ass back against his groin and rubbed against him.
"Oh, so you like that cock, do you?" he said gruffly. "You'll be getting it in due time."
He unzipped the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled the garment down over her hips. Olga stepped out of the dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Then she turned to face him, and began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't wait for her to continue undressing him, but instead, as she was working on his shirt, he stripped off his pants and shorts.
Olga, startled at the size and angry, red look of his cock, gasped at the sight of it standing there, like a cudgel, ready to assault her. She began fumbling with the hooks at the back of her bra, when Bart grabbed her.
"Shit, I haven't time to wait for you to fool around with that thing," he said. Like an angry gorilla, he gave a savage yank on the garment and tore it from Olga's body, and threw it on the floor.
Then with a single swipe, he tore the panties off of her. He seized her shoulders, and forced her to kneel before him.
"Please, Bart," she pleaded. "I don't want to take that thing in my mouth."
"Listen, bitch, baby, you do what Bart says, yes? If you don't want to play my way, then you shouldn't have agreed to meet me." He then laid his dong in the valley between Olga's tits and proceeded to move it gently back and forth.
"Okay, now," he directed. "Squeeze them tits against that cock."
Olga complied. After all, this was better than having to suck that strange, living sausage. Soon the clear sex-dew began leaking out of the little slit of his cockhead. The hot, hard cock felt pleasant as it glided back and forth in the inter-tit channel, now made slippery by Bart's cock tears.
"Now," he said gruffly, "now it needs a good sucking." He seized her by the hair, and pulled her head down, at the same time holding her lower jaw with his other hand. He squeezed her jaw savagely, forcing her to open her mouth, and admit the wet head of his hungry cock.
"No, Bart, please. Not yet."
"Bullshit, baby. Go on, now. Eat that cock."
Reluctantly, she admitted the big blob of flesh to her mouth. She knew that she was powerless to resist. There was nothing else to do but to try to make the best of the situation. She began sucking vigorously, hoping that she could make him come rapidly, thus ending this unpleasant part of their encounter.
When, she wondered, would he get around to pushing that cock into her cunt where it really belonged? The very thought of that lovely prospect brought her hand to her cunt, whose throbbing eagerness, she tried to appease with her finger.
"Oh, so that's your game?" Bart said. "Trying to get me out of your mouth with a quickie blow-job, eh?"
Suddenly, she found herself spinning around in Bart's strong arms. He had lifted her from the floor, and stood her on her hands, her ass open to his face. Then he plunged his mouth onto her cunt, thrusting his tongue into the funky slit.
"Oh, Bart," she sighed in a low moan of sexual pleasure. This was the first time that he had done anything that was directed primarily at giving her pleasure. How wonderful it felt as his warm tongue glided over her swollen cunt lips. Then cruelly, he pulled his mouth away.
"All right," he said imperiously. "Get your mouth onto that cock. What do you think this is, a free cunt-lick for you?"
Olga's pleasure was so intense that she was willing to do anything for Bart so long as he would continue what he had been doing. She took the leaking cock into her mouth, and began giving it slow, steady sucks as she worked her head up and down on it.
As their passion mounted, they fell to the floor, neither disengaging his or her mouth from the genitalia of the other. Nearly oblivious of what she was doing with her own mouth, Olga's mind was focussed on what Bart's tongue was doing to her cunt and to her clit. But it was Bart who came first.
She felt her mouth fill with the brackish goo, nearly choking her. Again and again, the stuff spurted from Bart's cock, as he tried to shove the thing down her throat.
He stood up and thrust Olga away from him. She was quivering with unspent passion.
"Bart," she cried. "Bart, baby, you can't leave me like this after I've gone and sucked you off and all. It isn't fair." She ran her finger in and out of her cunt frantically. But the relief it gave her was minimal.
"Don't worry, bitch," he said. "I've got a little surprise for you." He pulled on his shorts, and opened the door of Olga's apartment. "Okay, Bill, I've got her all ready for you."
"What... what are you doing? Who's this Bill?" Olga gasped. She grabbed her dress from the floor, in a hasty attempt to hide her nakedness from the stranger who was entering the room.
"Okay, Olga, this is Bill. He's a friend of mine, so be good to him. Do you understand?"
"Bart, no. Please tell him to go away. I'm a decent woman. You can't ask me to fuck with every guy who comes along," Olga pleaded.
Bart responded with a hefty slap on Olga's cheek. It was a vicious blow and her cheek stung from it. That, added to the humiliation she was being made to suffer, brought her to tears.
"Well, how about that, Bill?" Bart laughed. "Poor little Olga's crying. Why don't you give her a little consolation?"
By this time, Bill had stripped, flinging his clothes carelessly around the room. He advanced on Olga slowly and deliberately, like a tiger stalking his wounded prey.
Despite her terror and shame, Olga took notice of his cock. When he had first begun advancing on her, it had hung, small and ridiculous, like a string bean. Now, apparently, the thrill of taking an unwilling victim had stimulated Bill, for his cock was now hard and erect, pointing at Olga like a small battering ram. As Bill got close to Olga, he hesitated, as if restrained by some vestige of civilized impulse.
"Go ahead, Bill," Bart said. "She's yours for the taking. Don't let her little modesty act stop you."
"Well... " Bill still hesitated. Bart reached out and grabbed the dress from Olga's hands, throwing it to the floor. Instinctively, Olga covered her twat with one hand, and held her other hand and forearm as a shield over her breasts. Bill stood fast, arrested by Olga's look of terror.
"All right, Olga," said Bart. "It seems that Bill's a gentleman. In that case, you'll have to go after him."
"Please Bart, don't make me do that."
"Shut up, bitch. Grab his cock!" Bart growled.
"No, Bart, please!"
Bart slapped her again. Her face began to swell after the stinging blow, but she still did not approach Bill. Now Bart grabbed her hair and began twisting it. This time. Olga yielded. She took Bill's cock in her hand, and began to manipulate it, as tears ran down her face.
While Bill had been watching Olga's punishment, his prick had lost its rigidity, so that it now lay in her palm, limp and flaccid.
"All right, Olga, go ahead. Get his cock hard for him," said Bart.
Olga began to squeeze the flabby flesh but her efforts produced no response. By this time, the swelling of her face had proceeded to the point where her left eye was nearly closed, reminding her of the fate that might be hers should she fail to satisfy Bill. With her left hand, she cupped his balls, stroking the underside of his cock with her thumb, all the while trembling with fear lest she should fail to produce the desired effect.
Bart, with a menacing look on his face, had come closer, apparently to inspect her work, to make sure that his friend was being properly attended to.
Bill's stubborn flesh remained flabby. Olga could think of only one more tactic. She knelt before Bill, and lifted his cock to her lips. It was odd, but this time, she did not feel the revulsion that had overwhelmed her when she had sucked Bart's savage prick. Perhaps because she felt that somehow, he, too, was the subject of Bart's arbitrary tyranny. It was as if they were companions in misery and needed each other's consolation.
The only consolation she could offer Bill now was through her tender ministrations to his cock. She gently kissed the tip of the little pink head, and pulled the skin back to let it peek forth. Then she turned the thing to one side, and began playfully biting it, working her mouth from the hairy base out to the tip. Slowly, slowly, Bill's meaty cunt probe began to fill out. Its head emerged from the sheath of skin that covered it, and came to rest against Olga's cheek.
She began moving the tip of her tongue along the length of the shaft, from the hairy balls, all the way to the tip. Now he was getting truly hard. Olga, glancing up at his face, saw that his face had taken on the far-away look of a man who had given himself up totally to sexual pleasure.
"All right, Olga, that's enough teasing. Now start sucking."
Bart's gruff voice broke the mood of tranquility that had, strangely come over her. There was really no need for Bart to speak to her that way. Carried along by her own feelings, she would have got to the point of intense sucking without having to be told to do it.
She took the tip of Bill's cock between her lips and began teasing its tiny mouth, tasting the drops of sex dew that it emitted. Then she took the entire pink acorn into her mouth, sucking it and running her tongue around its periphery. She felt Bill give a shudder of delight.
Olga was surprised to find that cock sucking had begun to have a strange attraction for her. Would she feel that way if Bart made her suck him again, she wondered? For the moment, she put Bart out of her mind. Just now, Bill and his lovely cock were enough for her to think about. That firm, warm cock--she must have more of it.
She reached out and grabbed the firm, muscular cheeks of Bill's ass. pulling him toward her so that she could get all of his cock into her mouth. She heard him sigh with pleasure.
Suddenly, Olga felt herself seized roughly around the waist, while a hard male body thrust itself against her from behind. A warm, hard blob of flesh was pressing against her anus. Then one of the hands that held her was rudely thrust between her thighs.
Bart worked his hand upward, until it came to rest on Olga's mound. Parting her cunt lips, with his fingers, he worked his cock into the wet groove. She wanted to cry out with pleasure, but dared not risk letting go of Bill's cock. The marvelous sense of fulfillment that she gained from the hard prick that filled her mouth was too lovely for her to take the chance of losing it, even for a moment.
Now Bart began his mindless, animal thrusting into Olga's cunt. Grunting at each stroke, he grabbed her by the shoulders to force her body back against his, so that he could sink his cock deeper. But, by so doing, he was pulling her away from Bill's cock, that lovely cock from which she could not let herself be separated.
Bart's frenetic fucking, his cock plunging into her cunt from behind, began to establish a kind of rhythm for the efforts of all three of them. For, each time Bart shoved that great dong into her, she engulfed Bill's cock almost to its full length, giving it maximum suck at the same time.
Soon, the three bodies were heaving together as if they were all parts of a single grotesque organism engaged in some strange, satanic ritual of self-gratification.
Now, miraculously, they began coming at the same time. Bill, like a mindless animal, grabbed Olga's hair, forcing her hard against his cock. Bart was holding her hips in his huge mitts, lunging again and again with his cock-spear, trying to assuage its savage agony in her flesh.
Olga's cunt felt as if it were on fire, except for the juices that it copiously exuded. She felt as if she were on the edge of some precipice from which some desperate inner compulsion was driving her to leap.
Frantically, she tried to hasten this culmination by bucking her ass back against Bart, to get every millimeter of his hot, hard cock stuffed into her cunt. She sucked harder on Bill's prick, even biting it in her frenzy. Then she felt herself exploding. It was as if her cunt had a mind of its own, for she could feel it grabbing Bart's cock, squeezing and milking it, as Bart shot spurt after spurt of hot come into her.
At the same time, her mouth was filling with jets of Bill's come. This time, she didn't mind the taste of the stuff. In fact, it was not at all unpleasant. She found to her surprise that she gulped it down eagerly, as if it were delicious.
When at length, their pas de trois was finished, Bart stepped back, oblivious of the last white drops of gism that dripped occasionally from his wet cock. "Well, Bill," he said. "She was everything I said she would be, wasn't she?" He laughed loudly. "Olga's a natural. Even though she's only a beginner. Give her a few years of practice, and she'll be an Olympic sex star."
"Unbelievable, Bart. She's simply unbelievable," Bill said, as he collapsed in a chair, exhausted by Olga's sexual acrobatics. He was too pooped either to wipe the sweat from his face, or to notice that his slimy cock was leaking come on the chair where he was sitting.
"Let me rest a few minutes, and then I'll pay up. She's certainly worth every penny." He smiled at the thought of the fantastic pleasure he had just experienced.
"What's this about paying up? What's Bill paying for?" Olga faced Bart defiantly. What kind of shit was he trying to pull on her?
"Shut up and get your clothes on," Bart growled. "And wipe your cunt. The damned thing's leaking all over the floor."
"What's he paying for?" Olga demanded. "That's between him and me. Now shut up and get dressed."
Olga turned to Bill. "You're paying Bart for my services, is that it Bill? Is that it?" Her voice was becoming strident as her rage grew.
Bill, caught in the middle of the dispute between Olga and Bart, said nothing, but sat looking at the floor. Olga took his silence as an affirmative answer to her question.
"You filthy son of a bitch," Olga said to Bart, almost in a whisper. "You sold me to him. You're trying to make a whore out of me, you fucking bastard!" She spat a great gob of saliva on Bart's face.
Bart smiled evilly, and then deliberately slapped Olga's face. She reeled from the heavy blow, and fell to the floor. Her right jaw began to swell. Then Bart scooped up her clothes, grabbed her by one arm, and dragged her to the door.
"Okay, bitch, out you go!'. She shoved her naked as she was, out the door, and threw her clothes after her, as if they were mere rags.
"Dammit, let me in!" Olga screamed as she pounded on the door. "You fucking ape, you can't kick me out of my own apartment."
After a few minutes, Bart opened the door. He and Bill were dressed now, and Bill was handing a twenty-dollar bill to Bart. Bill, embarrassed by his part in Olga's humiliation, walked out without looking at her.
The next morning Olga managed to drag herself to the diner. She endured the sly smiles and teasing remarks of the other girls, when they saw her battered face. In spite of what that bastard Bart had done, she had to admit to herself that the sex part of their encounter had been fantastic.
But Olga's troubles really began when she came home from work that night. She was startled upon opening the door, to find that Bart was still there. "How come you're still here? Don't you have to go to work?"
"Not today," was the curt answer. He wouldn't elaborate beyond that simple statement, no matter how she tried to question him.
Days passed, and still he never left her apartment. Olga found herself having to provide him with groceries and liquor for which he made no contribution. If she suggested that he leave, he would respond by slapping her around, tearing off her clothes, and fucking her or making her suck his cock.
"Get me another bottle of Scotch, baby," he said one night. They were in bed naked, and he slapped her bare ass, to hurry her on the errand.
"We're all out, Bart."
"What do you mean we're all out? How come you didn't buy liquor?"
"I haven't got any money."
"No money? What did you do with your money?"
"Well, I have to buy more groceries with you here all the time. That costs money."
He grabbed her tit in his big mitt, and squeezed till it hurt. "Listen, bitch, from now on, you see to it that there's liquor in this place, you understand?"
Olga gasped with pain. "Okay, Bart, but you'll have to give me some money."
"Don't worry. There'll be money." There was an ominous sound to his voice that filled Olga's mind with anxiety.
That night, when she came home from working at the diner, there was a strange man in the apartment with Bart.
When she protested, Bart got rough with her until finally she had to give in and let the stranger fuck her. Bart collected twenty dollars from the man. Then he gave Olga ten and sent her out to the liquor store.
The next night, there was another stranger that she was made to fuck. And the process was repeated night after night.
Olga hated Bart for making a whore out of her, and she hated herself even more for not having the courage to break away from him. All she had to do, she realized was not to come home one night. But she was bound to him by some strange compulsion that she did not understand. In her misery, she, too began drinking, and strangely enough, that was what saved her.
Olga used to carry a bottle with her in her handbag, taking a nip now and then at work. Often, by the time she was ready to go home after a day's work, she would be quite drunk.
That was why one evening, she stumbled into the path of an oncoming car, as she was crossing the street. She was in the hospital for two months after that.
When she got out, to go home, finally, Bart had gone. She never saw him again.
"My poor mother," Tat was saying to Gil. "She certainly went through hell."
"She's had a hard life, Tat. That's why I don't begrudge her her pleasures, even if they are a little kinky at times."
"Kinky?"
"Yes. She's still hungry a little for that masochism stuff. Since I'm no sadist she has to go elsewhere for kicks of that kind. For all I know, that may be what she's doing now. But I certainly wouldn't ask her about it. I don't figure it's any of my business."
"You really are a wonderful guy, Gil," Tat said. "I guess my mother's luck hasn't been all that bad. But tell me, how did you two ever meet, anyhow?"
"At the diner. The same way that she met Bart, although I didn't feel her up while she was taking my order the way he did." Gil laughed and then continued. "She was six months pregnant when I met her, and she had been out of the hospital only a few weeks. We started going places together. Then one thing led to another, and finally we got married soon after you were born?"
"Is Bart my father?" Tat asked in a serious tone.
"Probably not. Olga says that you don't look anything like him. She was being fucked by a number of men, any one of whom could be your father."
"I just hope it wasn't that rotten bastard. I'm sorry it wasn't you, Gil," she said, throwing her arms around him and kissing his bristly face fondly. "If I could pick my father, you'd be the one."
"Oh, I don't know," said Gil. "I think this arrangement has certain advantages. I doubt if I could fuck my own daughter. But this way... "
"Still trying to get into my cunt, huh? Well, what the hell, maybe some day I'll let you."
CHAPTER THREE
Tat was seated at the dressing table combing her long hair, when Olga walked into the room.
"My, you look as if you'd lost your only friend, Tat," Olga said. "Why so gloomy?"
Tat explained that Dr. Schmerz had given up hope of her ever having tits, since his medicine hadn't worked. "It looks as if I'll just have to go through life titless," she concluded despondently. Tears began running down her cheeks.
"Oh, poor Tat," her mother said, trying to console her. She took Tat in her arms, and began stroking her hair. "Now, don't you worry," Olga said.
"People have all sorts of tastes. Somewhere, I'm sure, there must be men who like flat-chested women. Meanwhile, the thing for you to do is to wear falsies until you hop into bed. Then the only thing you have to do is to be sure the lights are off."
"But, Ma, what if the guy wants to grab a tit? What do I do then?"
"Well, I guess you could fuck with your blouse on. Some hookers do that."
"I'm no hooker, and besides, I don't like to fuck with clothes on."
At that moment, Gil walked into the room. "Hey, what is this?" he boomed. "Why the sad faces? Is there something I can do to perk up the two of you?"
"Tat was just telling me that Dr. Schmerz has given up on her," Olga explained.
"That's a lousy break," Gil said. "Maybe we can find another doctor."
"No, dammit," Tat exclaimed. "I've had enough of doctors and examinations. I'll just have to get used to the idea of living my life with no tits."
The talk of tits had got Gil horny again, and he began holding Olga in his arms with one of his big hands on each of her tits. Olga turned her. face up to him and kissed him, open-mouthed.
"Gee," Tat said, "I hope when I get to the age that you two are, I'll have the hots for my guy, the way you have for each other. That is, if I ever have a guy. Oh, shit," she exclaimed "It's all so unfair."
She started to cry in utter despair.
Gil put his arm around her shoulders, without letting go of Olga.
"Take it easy, Tat," he said gently. He began stroking her hair, trying to soothe her. It was amazing, Tat thought, how this big, beefy guy could be so gentle. If it weren't for Olga, she thought, she wouldn't mind at all to fuck him. She turned to the two of them, letting them embrace and console her.
She let her head rest against Olga's bosom, and closed her eyes. It felt good to let herself be a little girl again, enjoying Mama's comfort and solace.
Someone's hand was stroking her back. She could not tell if it were Olga or Gil. It was comforting, she thought, so what difference did it make?
Now, someone was pulling up her sweater. Without thinking about it, she put her arms up to make it easier for the sweater to be pulled over her head. She felt gentle hands stroking her bare back. Olga or Gil, or perhaps the both of them, were kissing her face now, with tender, feathery kisses. How carefree she felt, and languorous, as if she were drifting on clouds in the bright summer sky.
She looked up at Olga and smiled contentedly. Olga kissed her daughter and gently stroked her flat chest. How lovely their caresses felt, and how good it was to have no concern over her titless state, for Olga and Gil accepted her as she was.
She could have the skin of an alligator, and the face of a gargoyle, and these two would, she was sure, still love her. She felt hands opening the waistband of her skirt and running down her zipper. Good, she thought. Let me be naked before them. Let them love me, love my body, however they wish. How beautiful it felt to abandon herself completely to the two people that she loved.
Olga continued kissing and caressing her daughter while Gil pulled off Tat's skirt and panties. Suddenly her sense of well-being vanished. What was she doing? Had she gone out of her mind, letting Gil undress her while her mother was holding her in her arms?
She quickly covered her crotch with one hand, and pulled herself away from Olga.
"What are you doing, Gil? Are you crazy or something? I'm Olga's daughter, for heaven's sake!" she exclaimed.
"Tatiana," her mother said, almost in a whisper. Olga rarely called Tat by her full name unless she had something serious to say to her.
"Think of us as two people who love you. Never mind that Gil is my husband and your stepfather. Remember, our love for each other includes you as well."
Olga stroked Tat's cheeks and smiled gently at her. And again, Tat felt Gil's wonderful hands stroking her back. She let herself relax, and once again, gave herself up to the beautiful sensations that these two people evoked in her.
Gil was kissing her belly while his hands stroked her thighs. Oh, let him take me, she thought, opening her legs almost instinctively. Now he was kissing the tangled curls around her pussy.
She felt her cunt juice begin to flow, and the lips of her slit start to open. What a marvelous lover her stepfather was. Now his tongue was licking the opening groove of her cunt, taking her juice as fast as it flowed. Never had anyone excited her as much as Gil was exciting her now.
When would he fuck her, she wondered? She moaned softly, hoping that he would begin soon.
But now, suddenly, he abandoned her. Why had he disengaged himself, she wondered sadly? She heard the rustle of clothing and realized that he was probably stripping. Soon, she hoped, her moment of fulfillment would come.
Meanwhile, Olga continued stroking her cheek, and kissing her flat breasts, now and then playfully teasing her nipples. Now she felt Gil's touch, and thrilled again to the sensation of his tongue toying with her clitoris.
"Do you want Gil to fuck you now?" Olga asked her quietly.
"Oh, yes, Mother. Please. Say that it's all right," Tat pleaded.
"You know that it's all right. We've told you that already."
"You're sure? Absolutely sure?"
"Of course, you silly child. After all, you are my daughter. How could I deny you such a simple pleasure, one that is so easy for us to provide?" Olga looked away from Tat to glance at Gil. "However," she added, "I see that he needs a little help to get ready for you."
With that remark, Olga turned away from Tat to focus her attentions on Gil.
Now it was Olga who got out of her clothes. Tat was amazed at the youthfulness of her mother's body. True, her breasts sagged a little. But after all, she was middle-aged. Tat noted also, that Olga's pubic hair was rather sparse compared to her own luxuriant bush. Still, Olga's body was lithe and trim, a body to be proud of, Tat thought.
From the corner of her eye, Tat saw Olga lying on her back, with her head between Gil's thighs. Olga reached up for Gil's pendulous, meaty blob, taking it into her mouth. All the while, Gil was licking and sucking Tat's cunt which was beginning to feel as if it were on fire. Shit, she thought, when would he get around to shoving his cock into her?
Except for Tat's occasional moans, the only sounds that could be heard were the juicy noises that Gil produced as he continued sucking Tat's cunt. Or did some of the sounds originate with Olga as she worked on Gil's cock?
She wished that she could touch Olga, caress her. What a wonderful mother Olga was, Tat thought. Why, there was certainly not another mother in the whole world who would do for her daughter what Olga was doing now. And if Tat could touch her, the circle of love would be closed. But, unfortunately, Olga was out of reach.
Now Olga came back to Tat. "He's ready now. I'm going to help him. Would you like that?"
"Oh, yes, Mother. Please hurry. I need him so badly."
"Very well then, raise your Knees. That's it. Higher, higher now." Gil took his mouth from Tat's cunt, and moved up so that his face was over hers. He smiled at her, oblivious to the wetness of his lips, nose and chin. "Now, little daughter?" he asked smilingly.
"Yes, please!" Tat glanced down to see Olga guiding Gil's enormous gnarled cock toward her. She felt Olga's fingers parting her cunt lips, as she steered the red cock head into the wet cleft. She wanted all of it inside of her. They had kept her waiting for it so long that now she had to have it all immediately. Impatiently, she arched her back, thrusting her cunt upward to impale herself on Gil's wonderful weapon.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Tat," said Olga, laughing. "Don't you know that fucking is like champagne? You don't just gulp it down. You take it a little at a time."
Now Tat felt the big cock slipping away, pulling out of her cunt. Was Gil going to stop now? Surely he hadn't come yet. Her inclination was to thrust herself against him to try to get that big prong back inside.
But she decided to heed her mother's advice. Slowly, slowly she arched her back, making the cock head dig deeper into her slit a centimeter at a time.
Then she felt Olga's hand under her ass, guiding her motions with gentleness and expertise. That little gesture of Olga's overwhelmed Tat. It symbolized the generosity of the love that Olga must have been feeling toward her.
How beautiful it was for her mother to help make her connection with Gil as thrilling as possible. And she was apparently equally open-handed with Gil, for she had placed her other hand on his ass to synchronize his and Tat's motions.
"That's it, that's it," Olga was saying. "Push into her slowly, very slowly. Now, Tat, do you feel that cock slipping into you?"
"Oh, yes, yes, Mother," Tat gasped.
"Very well, tighten your cunt around it. Do you know how to do that?"
"I think so."
"Good, Grip it firmly, as if you don't want it to get away." Tat heard a groan of pleasure erupt from Gil.
"Good girl," Olga said. "Now, Gil, pull it out of her. Don't let her keep your cock imprisoned in her cunt. Pull it back for another plunge."
Now it was Tat who moaned with pleasure. But her delight was tempered by the momentary frustration of having Gil's cock partially withdrawn from her greedy cunt. "No, Mother, make him put it back. Please."
"Patience, patience," Olga said. She laughed, amused at her daughter's sexual abandon. "So you want Gil's cock back in your cunt, do you? Well, then, go after it. Arch your back. Shove that pussy up after Gil's cock."
By this time, Tat and Gil had established a rhythm to their labors that was beyond Olga's ability to influence. She had become a mere bystander at their sexual feast.
Tat, though intent upon gaining the ultimate fulfillment of sexual climax, was conscious of the fact that Olga was now being left out of their circle of pleasure.
She would not let this happen to Olga, her wonderful, beautiful mother who was being so good to her. She pulled her cunt away from Gil's cock, letting the stiff wet prick slide up along her belly.
"Tat!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter? Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"
"It's Olga," Tat said. "We have to do something for her. It's just not fair for her to be left out of things the way she is now."
"Now, now," said Olga. "Don't you worry about me. You two go on and have a good time. Don't forget, Tat, dear, that I'll have Gil to myself later. You won't use him up. There'll be plenty left over for me.'"
"No, Mother, it's not fair. You're being so good to me, letting me have Gil this way. I don't care if I have to stop now and just rub my clit myself. I'm not going to go on fucking him while you're being left out."
"You're both being silly," Gil said. He rolled over onto his back, his still erect cock, wet and red, pointing at his chin and twitching in tempo with his pulse. "Come on. Tat, get on top. And you, Olga, bring that sweet pussy over here to my mouth."
Tat obeyed at once, parting her cunt lips with one hand as she guided Gil's prong back inside her hot hole with the other. As she did so, Gil held Olga's ass in his big hands, guiding her cunt into position over his mouth.
He buried his face in her flesh, running his tongue over the wet inner lips of her cunt and occasionally probing into the dark grotto within.
Olga sighed with contentment. She felt herself to be a woman singularly favored by fortune. For, after all that she had suffered in her earlier life with Bart, now she had Gil, wonderful Gil, who would not mistreat her nor allow her to go in want of the tenderness and excitement that a man could give to a woman.
And there was her daughter, Tat. What other daughter, allowed to make love to her mother's husband, would insist that her mother be included in the coterie of pleasure and passion?
Tat, after the interruption required to change positions, had again found the rhythm that best matched her motions with the thrusts of Gil's groin, a slow, almost lazy descent, then a pause in which they pressed together as closely as possible, followed by a quick withdrawal, that almost brought the tip of Gil's cock into view.
Olga was facing her a smile of pleasure and joy softening the lines of her face. Looking at her, Tat was overcome with a feeling of love and tenderness such as she had not often felt before. She leaned forward, put her arms about Olga, and rested her head on Olga's shoulder "You are so good. I love you. I love you both," she whispered.
"Hush, Tat, dear. Just let your mind focus only on the joy that you are giving yourself and us," Olga said softly.
So good was the rapport among the three souls that without conscious effort each pleased the other two while striving for his or her own satisfaction. Olga began sucking on Tat's nipples, those curious nubs of flesh that seemed so incongruous, as they stood erect and brazen on her plain chest.
No one had done this to Tat before, since she had not been able to bring herself to expose her breastless chest to anyone's view. But here, among those she loved most dearly, she felt no restraint.
What a delight this experience was, she thought. Maybe some day, she would have a man of her own who would love her and suck her nipples this heavenly way and who would not laugh at her because she had no tits.
Now Tat felt herself soaring to ever higher realms of sexual sensation. She was alone in her thoughts now, aware only of the intensely beautiful sensations that she felt in her cunt and her nipples. She applied all her energies toward the attainment of ultimate fulfillment.
Her cunt began grabbing Gil's cock with savage determination and her motions became ever more frantic as she sought to appease the unmerciful sense of urgency that had taken hold of her. Now, at last, she felt herself arriving at the point of delicious oblivion. Her cunt began frenetically milking Gil's cock, as if to extract every drop of his juice. But whether she had taken even a drop of gism from him, she could not tell, since her cunt had grown so wet from its own juices.
"Ah, now, now! Oh, give it to me. Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me!" she cried out in her frenzy.
It was over. She felt a sense of blissful repose as she ceased her motions with Gil's firm cock still embedded deep within her, and her head resting peacefully on Olga's shoulder.
At last, overwhelmed by warm feelings of love for these two, she disengaged herself and lay down beside Gil. She smiled drowsily, as she watched Olga squirming with lust, as she struggled to obtain for her cunt the last iota of stimulation from Gil's mouth and tongue.
How was it, Tat wondered, that Gil's cock, still wet from her own cunt, was still erect? While she knew that Gil was a magnificent sex partner, he was, after all, twice her age. It was therefore, not possible that he could have come only moments ago, and now be sporting this magnificent hard-on.
No, he simply had not come. He had managed to bring her through the gates of paradise, without having gone through them himself. But now the explanation became clear.
He had saved his load for Olga. Gil lifted Olga's ass off his face, turned her around in a single, graceful motion, and set her down, plugging his cock into her cunt as if he were placing a phonograph record on a spindle.
The entire motion was accomplished in one smooth sweep, like the movement of a dance. Now it was Olga who writhed her face knotted in self-absorption as she strove to assuage the avidity of her cunt. With each of Gil's upward thrusts, she grunted with pleasure.
Tat was seized with the desire to help her two loved ones achieve the delight that she herself had had. But how?
What could she do that would enhance the pleasure that each was giving the other? As she pondered over this question, she saw Olga suddenly pitch forward and place her mouth upon Gil's.
Now the two of them were totally engaged, mouth-to-mouth, as well as cock-to-cunt. Tat moved toward the foot of the bed. She watched for moment, fascinated by the rhythmic motion of insertion and withdrawal executed by Gil's shining hard cock in Olga's slit.
"Oh, yes... oh!" Olga moaned.
How eagerly Olga's pelvis pressed upward to meet Gil's oncoming cock, and with what reluctance her inner cunt lips clung to the departing shaft of flesh. Tat gently put her fingers on the widely-parted, hairy lips of Olga's cunt, at the same time softly cradling Gil's balls in the palm of her other hand. What a delight it was to feel the hairy genital flesh of these two beneath her fingers. She stroked them slowly and lovingly.
Tat was delighted to observe that her efforts were having the desired effect on Olga and Gil. For now they abandoned the leisurely pace at which they had been fucking, and began heaving their bodies together in a frenzy of passion. As Gil's cock plunged desperately into Olga's dripping socket, it made a juicy sound but when it was withdrawn, it made an obscene, sucking noise, like a horse's hoof being pulled out of deep mud.
Tat could hear Olga and Gil grunting at each thrust. They had become pure animal now, intent only on fulfilling the mission dictated by their flesh. They were getting wilder, fucking faster and faster with even harder plunges. Suddenly, during one frantic push, Gil became disengaged from Olga.
"No, no, Gil!" Olga screamed. She began moving her pelvis around wildly, trying to find Gil's lost cock, and get it back into her hot cunt. "Get it back inside me quick!"
Tat came to the rescue. She grabbed Gil's cock, that marvelous hard prong of flesh that had only a little while ago, sent her to Nirvana, and pushed the head back into the gaping lips of Olga's cunt.
"Thank you, Tat," Gil breathed, as he resumed pumping.
"That was sweet, dear," Olga gasped.
Soon Olga and Gil had recovered the ground lost during their brief disengagement. Again they approached the heights of passion. They were sweating profusely and the grunting sounds that they made had turned into guttural groans.
"Give it to me, you son of a bitch," Olga moaned. "Yes, yes, go on, now!"
"Here it comes. Here it comes. There, ohhhhh... " growled Gil.
Tat saw Gil's great rod stiffen and jerk spasmodically as he shot his load into Olga's cunt. That must have been some load, Tat thought, for soon she saw great gobs of white come ooze out of Olga's cunt, from beneath Gil's cock and drip down into her asshole.
For a moment, she envied Olga. Tat had been denied this particular experience. But she was being silly and selfish, she told herself. Gil was a beautiful lover, giving himself to both of them even though he had, goodness knows, no obligation to Tat.
Of course, she realized, Gil had had to save his load for Olga. A man of his age could hardly be expected to come twice in so short a time. Well, perhaps another time she would have the joy of having him come in her cunt.
The three of them lay side by side, naked and uncovered. Tat lay between the other two who were dozing peacefully. She looked from one to the other, and smiled as she thought again how wonderful they had been to her.
She was sure now of one thing Even if she did succeed some day in getting a lover or a husband of her own, she could never separate herself from Gil and Olga. But there was one question that remained in her mind.
Should she fuck Gil in Olga's absence? Gil had certainly wanted to, but was it really right? She would have to ask Olga about it for Tat knew that she could never do such a thing behind Olga's back, not after Olga had shown her such love and generosity, as she had today.
CHAPTER FOUR
When the alarm clock rang the next morning, Tat lay in bed for a little while, daydreaming as usual. But this time, her daydreams were not about Charlie, but about the delightful experience she had had with Olga and Gil.
Well, enough of that, she told herself. It was time to get up and get dressed.
When she came down to breakfast. Olga and Gil were already at the table. Should she ask Olga now about whether it was okay for Gil to fuck her in Olga's absence? While Tat was thinking about it, Olga said, "Are you on the day shift today, Tat?"
"Today's the last day. Then I go on nights for awhile. How I hate it!"
"How come?" asked Gil. "I'd imagine that being a telephone operator is pretty much the same whether you work nights or days."
"Oh, the work is pretty much the same, although you do get more calls from nuts and loonies at night. It's the traveling that's the problem. There are the assholes on the bus who are always trying to cop a feel. That's not to mention the shitheels who drive up to the bus stop trying to trade a ride home for a free fuck."
"I guess those are the hazards of being female and cute," Gil observed.
"Maybe the thing for me to do is to give them a feel of my titless tits," Tat said wryly. "That ought to shoo them off."
"Oh, Tat," Olga said in a tone of distress. "Don't talk like that, honey. I hate to hear you sound so bitter."
"Well, I can't help it. That's how I feel. Oh, Ma, you and Gil are so sweet to let me share your lovemaking, but great as it is, it's not the same as making it with a guy of my own generation."
"Now, you just keep your chin up. Tits aren't everything. You'll have a fellow of your own some day. Wait and see."
Tat said no more on the subject. After all, what was the use? Anyway, right now, she had to hurry and get to work. She left the table, dashed upstairs to finish dressing and get her make-up on, and rushed out to the bus stop.
As she waited for the bus, she noticed a large black car driving by. Despite the fact that the traffic light was green, the car slowed down so much as it passed that the drivers behind it began blowing horns impatiently. A strange looking man was driving the black monster. Tat had an uneasy feeling about the way he looked at her as he went by. Who was this stranger with his black, curly hair, and fierce moustache? Why did he look at her so intensely? The bus arrived before she could think any more about it.
When she arrived at her destination, she had the uncanny feeling that the guy in the black car had driven by once again. Was he following her? Who would want to follow her, she wondered?
Maybe he was some kind of a pervert who got his kicks from following girls without having the courage to talk to them. Well, there are all kinds of nuts running around, Tat reminded herself. All the same, there was something sinister about the way this guy looked at her.
After Tat punched in, she entered the elevator to go to the floor where her station was located. Her friend, Millie Simms, greeted her. "Hi, Tat, who's your new admirer?"
"Admirer? What admirer?" The only new man in her life was Gil and he wasn't really new. All that was new was that she had been fucked by him. But Millie certainly wouldn't know about that. Certainly neither Gil nor Olga would go around talking about it, and Tat wasn't going to, either.
"Oh, don't you know? There's this guy with black hair and a big black moustache who's been asking about you. It looks like you've made a conquest."
"No shit. Who's been asking about me? What did he want to know?"
"Come on, Tat. Tell us who he is," said another girl in the elevator.
"I don't know who he is."
"That's weird," Millie said. "But last night, when I was leaving this guy drives up in a big. black Lincoln, and asks me if I want a ride. So I say, okay."
"You're nuts, Millie," the other girl said. "You were taking a chance, accepting a ride from a stranger like that."
"Why? What the hell's he going to do, rape me? What the hell, I'm no virgin. So I figured if he asks me nice, and shows me a good time I'd let him have a piece of my ass. My old man's getting to be a bore anyhow. A little change might do my good."
The elevator arrived at the floor where Tat worked before the conversation could be concluded. She was dying to find out about the stranger who had been asking about her,, but she realized that she would have to wait until lunch time to pursue the subject further.
She took her seat at her switchboard, put her headphone on and slipped her mouthpiece on its string around her neck to get it into position. Already her board was lighting up. She plugged into one of the waiting lines.
"Information, may I help you?" she singsonged into the mouthpiece. She heard the inquiry. "You can dial that number directly," she said. But apparently there were complications. "I'll connect you with the supervisor."
Next call. "You can find that information in your directory." Pull the plug Take the next inquiry. "I'll connect you with the repair service."
Tat became conscious of the fact that her supervisor was standing behind her. Okay, she thought. Let the bastard snoop if he wants to.
Things were going well enough. There were only four waiting calls on the board.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Evidently Horace (that was his name) wanted to get friendly. He was a creep. Tat thought, but there was no use antagonizing him without good reason. The way he was standing so close to her gave her the idea that he was trying to look down her dress. That was a laugh!
Fat lot of good that would do him, no matter how much he was able to sec. Having no tits does have one advantage, she thought, as she smiled.
Horace took Tat's smile as a sign of encouragement and moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulder. "How's my girl, Tat Parker?" he asked with exaggerated joviality Tat unplugged her mouthpiece and replied.
"Just waiting for you, Horace," she said coquettishly. Thank God, she thought, that Horace is a married man who has to go home to his wife every night.
That made him all bark and no bite. She could kid around with him and tease him without having to worry whether he would attempt to push things too far. She tried not to think what might happen, if he ever took it into his head to have a night out some time and tried to get her to go along.
Tat recollected her mouthpiece. Her board was beginning to light up, and she had to begin servicing inquiries before they became too numerous.
"One moment, please while I look the number up," she said, beginning to leaf through the directory.
Now Horace stood closer to her, so that his forearm hung over her shoulder. His hand, carelessly limp, was positioned near her breast, but not actually touching her.
Shit, Tat thought, this was high school stuff. The next step would be a seemingly accidental brush of his hand against her tit. Okay, she thought, go ahead, Horny Horace, see what a surprise you'll get. Sure enough, Horace's hand accidentally brushed against her.
For a fleeting moment, he pressed his palm against her chest, copping a feel. Then, as if he had been stung by a bee, he yanked his hand away.
"What's the matter, Horace. Didn't you find what you were looking for?"
Tat laughed. Suddenly, she realized that she had forgotten to disconnect her mouthpiece. "One moment, please," she simpered to the perplexed customer on the line. "I will get the information for you."
As she struggled to regain control of the situation at her board, Horace, recognizing his opportunity decided to make what he could of this moment.
Tat felt a hand on her thigh. Having failed in his quest for tits, he was apparently going after legs. Well, there was nothing she could do about that, since the damned board had suddenly begun to light up like a Christmas tree.
As frantically she tried to answer all the customer inquiries, just as frantically was Horace's hand stroking her. The bastard had never been so bold before. What was wrong with him, she wondered?
Was his wife punishing him by keeping her legs crossed? Well, here among all the operators, he couldn't go very far, so there was no harm in playing along with him, Tat thought.
Now he had begun to stand closer to her, rubbing his groin against her forearm. He really must be horny to do that. She could feel a lump inside his pants that began to grow harder and harder as he rubbed it against her.
Well, what the hell, she thought. Maybe if I play along with the guy, he'll stop bothering me so I can catch up with the load of calls on my board. Tat brought her hand over and began stroking the lump in Horace's pants.
"Oh, shit, Tat, baby, you're driving me crazy," he panted. He began to rub himself against her more vigorously.
"You're pretty crazy already. It won't take much driving."... "No, Madame, I said, It's pretty hazy already. I wouldn't do much driving." Shit, she thought, forgot to unplug the mouthpiece again. "I'll get your number in a minute."
What was crazy Horace doing now? He had dropped his pencil or something and was scrambling around on the floor, looking for it.
But now he had crawled under her deskboard and was facing her, apparently trying to look up her skirt.
All right, Horace, you bastard, she thought. You asked for it. I'll drive you out of your fucking mind, even if I am without tits. She opened her legs to let him get a good look, though, since she was wearing panties, she couldn't imagine what pleasure he would get looking at a piece of cloth.
Apparently, he found the view pleasing enough, for he stayed down there for a good long time without making any further moves. Then Tat felt his hand on the inside of her thigh.
Just then, to make matters more complicated, Tat got a crazy call on her board. At first, when she plugged it in, all she heard was heavy breathing. Oh shit, a breather, she thought. Such calls were unusual on the day shift. Most of these telephone loonies operated at night.
"Information, may I help you?" she cooed, hoping to discourage the jerk.
"Is your cunt hairy?" asked the strange voice. She knew that the prescribed procedure in such cases was to try to engage the nut in conversation while she signalled her supervisor to begin tracing the call and notifying the police.
Bu her supervisor was on the floor at her feet, running his hand up under her skirt. If she tried to attract the attention of the girl at the board next to hers, Horace might take offense, thinking that she was seeking assistance to fend of his advances. She was up shit creek all right.
"No, is yours?" she answered. Would a daft answer turneth away the rat? Apparently not, for the caller stayed on the line.
"No, but my balls are, and I've got a great big hard-on for you, baby."
"What number are you calling, please?" Perhaps if she gave him the cool professional treatment he would go away.
Meanwhile, what the hell was Horace doing? He had now got both hands under her skirt, and was tugging at her panties, trying to pull them off. At the same time, more lights were coming up on her board.
"One moment, please, sir," she said to Mr.
Dirty Talker. She put him on standby while she scrambled to handle all the waiting calls.
As for Horace, well she was simply too busy to get into a wrestling match or an argument with him. Okay, she figured let him play. She lifted her hips to help him get the panties off. But what would he do with them? Her handbag was in her locker downstairs. He certainly couldn't put them on her console where everyone could see them. Then Tat saw how Horace solved the problem. He put them in his pocket. It would serve him right if he took them home for his wife to find, she thought.
While Tat was catching up with the calls on her board, she felt Horace's hands again moving under her skirt. This time, there were no obstacles to impede his progress toward his ultimate goal. She felt his fingers groping in her pubic hair. That ought to keep him busy for awhile, she thought.
At least he wasn't likely to surprise her with any new advances. That meant she could concentrate her attention on keeping up with the demands of the board. She switched back to the moron caller. "Thank you for waiting," she said sweetly.
"Baby, you shouldn't have kept me waiting like that. This big, hard cock of mine can hardly stand it."
"The number you are calling is out of order." Tat said in her telephone company voice. Damn, what was Horace doing now?
Was he trying to push a finger into her cunt? She wasn't ready for that. Dry as her cunt was, he'd hurt her if he insisted on pushing in like that. She brought her legs together, squeezing Horace's hand and keeping him from probing further.
What a crazy situation this was, she thought. If it weren't happening to me, it would be funny, one sex nut trying to get a finger into my cunt while another tries to talk dirty to me on the telephone. It's like a scene out of a crazy movie.
Now the idiot on the line was beginning to breathe into the phone again, but this time he was panting. Probably the jerk was jerking off. "Oh, wouldn't you like to have this cock stuffed all the way into your cunt?"
"Please consult your directory," Tat replied. A funny thing had now begun to happen. The telephone nut's talk about his cock and her cunt was actually starting to turn her on. Well, even so, she couldn't get involved with this guy on the phone.
He might be a dangerous maniac or something for all she knew. "It's getting harder now. Pre-fuck juice is oozing out of it. Wouldn't you like to taste it?" he was saying.
"That line is busy. Will you place your call again later?" she said. She opened her legs again for Horace who needed no further instruction as to what he was to do. This time he found Tat's cunt lips swollen and parted a little, giving him easy access to her cunt.
She glanced beneath the deskboard to see what else Horace was going.
Good God! While he had one hand up her skirt, he had taken his cock out of his pants with the other. There he was with a big, red, hard-on, hauling away at his meat while, at the same time, he was stimulating Tat's cunt. Now, she too was beginning to get into the spirit of the thing. She moved her pelvis in rhythm with Horace's strokes. Somehow, that rhythm turned out to be in tempo with the panting of the nut on the telephone line.
"Yeah, yeah, baby," the nut was groaning. "Here I come!" At the same time, Tat felt her cunt muscles spasmodically twitch, as she, too, began to come. And at her feet Horace was making noises like King Kong fucking Fay Wray.
"That is the end of your initial period," Tat sighed into her mouthpiece. "Please signal when through."
"Oh, baby, I'm through," gasped the phone nut. She heard a click in her headphone, and he hung up.
"Well, I found my pencil," Horace said as he got out from beneath Tat's console. He was smiling from ear to ear with a look of feigned innocence like a school boy who has just placed a tack in the teacher's chair.
He was oblivious to the fact that his face was sweaty, and his shirt was drenched with sweat. Recovering that pencil had apparently been heavy work.
"By the way," he said to Tat. "I'll get you a relief. Please come into my office." Why the son of a bitch, Tat thought. Why couldn't he have told me that First, before he had his amusement with my cunt?
Tat turned her board over to the relief girl and went to Horace's office. She hoped he wasn't going to bawl her out or fire her. The company did some pretty rotten things at times, but she had been careful to get to work on time and to get her work done conscientiously. She couldn't imagine what they might have against her. But aside from that, after the free feel and all that she had provided Horace just now, it would be really shitty if he were to play any tricks on her.
"Oh, Tat," Horace said jovially, as she entered his office. "Come in, come in." Well, she thought, it didn't sound as if he were going to give me the axe. Still, the best tactic was to wait and see what it was he wanted before she said very much.
"Did you want to see me about something?" she asked.
"Yes." His face became grave. Here it comes, Tat thought. "You know of course that the company tries to look after the welfare of its employees. Well, Plant Security has sent me a confidential message to give you."
He handed her a sealed envelope. Tat took it gingerly, as if it were a snake. She turned it over in her hands.
"Aren't you going to open it?" he asked.
"Oh, oh, yes, of course." Tat tore open the envelope and took out a yellow form on which was written, "Confidential Memorandum to Ms. Tatiana Parker."
The message went on to say that the security men who watched the door had noticed a man in a black car on several occasions, watching her as she left work in the evening. They had no idea who the man was, but simply felt that Tat should know about him. Whatever she did about the matter was her own business. They merely felt that she should know about the mysterious stranger.
There it was again! That weird guy in the black Lincoln. The whole idea that someone would want to spy on her gave her the shivers. Who would want to do such a thing and for what reason?
If the guy were a purse snatcher or a rapist, he wouldn't be likely to go through all the business of watching her leave work, or following her when she took the bus in the morning. Maybe he was a sex nut, or something.
Could he be the guy who had made the call just now, when Horace had been groping about on the floor? She doubted that. There was no way that he could call the central office and know in advance which operator he would be talking to.
"Any trouble, Tat?" Horace asked, in a friendly tone. Well, at least, she thought, whatever trouble I have didn't come from Horace. She regretted the harsh things she had been thinking about him a few minutes earlier.
"Oh, it seems some creep has been watching me leave the building when my shift ends. I don't think it's anything serious."
"All the same, keep your eyes open, Tat. You can't be too careful, these days."
When lunch time came, Tat was desperate to find Millie to learn what she knew about the mysterious stranger. Tat found her in the line at the cafeteria.
"Tell me about this guy who's been asking about me," Tat asked.
"Well, it's like I was telling you. He gave me a ride home the night before last. I thought he would take me someplace and maybe buy me a beer or something and try to make out with me. But he was strictly on the up and up. All he wanted to do was ask questions about you."
"What did he want to know?"
"First, he asked what your name was. Then he wanted to know where you lived, and whether you were married, stuff like that."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him your name. But when he kept on asking questions, I told him that he'd have to find out what he wanted to know from you. I figured it wasn't my business to tell him any more."
"Oh, thanks, Millie. That was great. You're a real friend. But did he say why he wanted to know all that stuff?"
"I asked him, but he wouldn't say. Do you have any idea who he is?" Millie asked.
"Beats the shit out of me who he is."
"That's weird. Well, maybe he just has a crush on you. Anyway, if he's rich enough to have a Lincoln Continental, he might be just the guy you're waiting for."
"Fat chance he'd want me. Once he sees I have no tits, my chances are nil. Anyway, how old is this guy?"
"Oh, he's a lot older than we are. He's old enough to be my father. Who knows, maybe an old guy like that would take you with or without tits. And anyway, Tat. you shouldn't put yourself down like that. You're really good looking. Why don't you just wear falsies and forget about this hangup you're got about tits. Hell the pigs I go out with are only interested in my cunt."
Tat ignored Millie's comments. She had considered all of these arguments before, and had no desire to go over them again. What concerned her was what to do about this guy. She was certain that sooner or later, he would confront her.
But that night, when Tat waited for the bus to take her home, the stranger was not there. She was alert now, observing everyone on the street as she walked from the bus stop. But she did not see him so perhaps he had caught on to the fact that his shadowing her had aroused the suspicion of the telephone security police.
She entered the house and breathed a deep sigh of relief.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day Tat didn't have to go to work until evening. She always enjoyed these odd days when her shift changed. She could he around and take it easy, indulge herself in a languorous beauty bath, or simply watch the stupid game shows on TV if that suited her mood. There was a special pleasure in being home alone while everybody else was working.
She got out of bed, pulled off her nightgown and stood before her full length mirror examining her body. There was still no sign of boob development. Not that she expected any. After the failure of Dr. Schmerz's work she had abandoned that hope. Still, what harm did it do to check once in a while?
She turned to one side and then to the other. Well, there's one good thing I've got, she said to herself, and that's my ass. She was afraid that sitting all day at her switchboard would make her ass spread but she saw no sign that that had happened. Now she turned her back to the mirror, brought her head down nearly to the floor, and examined the reflection of her ass, viewing it upside down through her legs. It was a great ass, all right. There was no use denying because of false modesty, what the mirror plainly revealed. If she could just keep the guys away from her tits and turned on to her ass, she'd have it made. Or she'd be made.
Each cheek was beautifully rounded, almost spherical. At the top of the cleft between them there was a little dimple. Someone had told her that that was an extremely rare mark that the ancients considered very beautiful. She also observed approvingly that the cheeks of her ass showed no sign of sagging the way Olga's did. That would no doubt happen to her when she got to be Olga's age. But right now her ass was at its prime.
Tat brought a hassock over to the mirror, seated herself and brought her knees up to her chin. I have a good pussy, too, she thought. Look at that forest of black hair. It's almost like an Afro hairdo, the hair's so thick. Christ, she thought, there's so much hair you can't even see the cunt itself.
She brought her hands down running them lightly over the patch of coarse, curly hair. Then she spread her cuntlips apart watching as the mirror revealed the pink slit of her cunt. Well, a cunt's a cunt, she thought. She wondered '�what there was about a cunt that turned the guys on so much. Cunts really don't amount to much. Just a slit in the skin with a lot of empty space inside. A mouth is much more interesting: a mouth has teeth and a tongue. It can smile and talk. But a cunt--about all a cunt can do is fuck. Still, if cunt is what they want, then cunt they shall have. If they'll just come and get it.
Now a cock, Tat thought, was much more interesting than a cunt. For one thing, the damned cocks are trickier. There's always the question of whether the stupid things will stand up when the moment of truth arrives. And will they come before they get inside the cunts? There was no doubt about it, the owner of a cock has a lot more to worry about than the owner of a cunt. All a cunt has to do is just be there.
And then there was the fascinating variety of cocks--long, short, thick, thin. Men were so funny the way they worried about their cocks. She had heard how some guys always looked out of the corner of their eyes at the cock of the guy taking a leak in the next urinal to see who measures up better. She couldn't see that cock dimensions made much difference but you couldn't tell that to the men. It was part of their silly competitive spirit, like worrying about who drove the better car.
All this thought of cocks and what they could do to cunts had turned Tat on. The hairy old cuntlips were getting pouty and she could see in the mirror that the pink flesh inside was getting moist. And what was this? Those crazy inner lips of hers were poking out of the open cunt mouth. She took her fingers off her cunt momentarily allowing the outer lips to close. It was funny how the inner lips continued to poke through the slit of her cunt even when she wasn't pulling open the outer lips. It was as if they had an appetite of their own and were hoping for a cock to clutch.
Almost without thinking about it, Tat slid a finger into her cunt. What a remarkable structure her female anatomy was, she thought, as she marvelled at the hidden recess that accommodated her finger so readily. That felt nice, she thought, as she ran her finger slowly in and out. She spread her cunt open once again, examining its upper reaches. The best part of her cunt was the clit. Some guys knew that and would do things to it to give her a good time. But there were many who were stupid and merely plugged their cocks into her cunt and pumped away like fury until they got themselves off. She usually managed to come, too, on such occasions but the thrill wasn't anywhere near what she got from a guy who knew what he was doing and who paid attention to her reactions.
She pulled back the hood of pink flesh that hid her little pricklike clit. Wow, how good it felt when she stroked the little shaft. It had filled out and was now nice and firm just as it got when she was fucking. It was really great when she got a guy who was willing to get down there and lick it and suck it. Oooh, the mere thought of that had made her cunt practically drip with juice.
This was too much, she decided. She might as well finish herself off. She lay down again upon the bed with three fingers inserted in her cunt and began finger fucking herself rapidly. With her other hand, she manipulated her hard little clit. God, this felt good. She was impatient to get off. She had had no idea she was this horny. Faster, faster, she told herself. Her hand moved so rapidly in and out of her cunt that it was nearly vibrating. Oh, if she could only make herself come, she thought. Slowly, she felt her climax approach. Just a few minutes more.
What was that? Shit, she thought. The goddamn doorbell. At first she thought of ignoring it. Surely if it was important enough, then whoever it was would come back. Still, what if Olga expected something to be delivered? She would be very unhappy if the delivery were postponed. What the hell. Tat thought. She had all day to get herself off. She could get back to it later. She threw on a bathrobe and went downstairs to answer the door. "I'm from the telephone company," said the young guy at the door.
"You're from the phone company? Let's see your ID," Tat demanded. She had heard about intruders who pretended to be telephone men or from the utility company. In the back of her mind was the frightening enigma of the guy who had been shadowing her. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to be cautious.
The man produced the ID and Tat looked at it. It was similar to her own phone company card, so she decided that this guy was for real. Robert Simmons is was his name. He had straight brown hair and a cute smile--not bad at all, Tat thought. As if by instinct, she folded her arms across her chest. For one thing she was wearing only this bathrobe, and for another, she wanted to make a good impression on him. That meant that he had better not get a look at her flat chest.
"I didn't know that anybody had called the repair service," Tat said. "My mother might have, but she's not home. What's the trouble?"
Robert Simmons looked in the log book that he was carrying. "Looks like maybe a loose wire or something. The sheet here says 'Intermittent Noise'."
"Well, the phone's over here," Tat said, conducting him to the instrument. He took out his tool kit and began fooling with the telephone. As he did so, Tat went back upstairs and quickly put on a loose-fitting blouse and a skirt. When she returned, Robert was just putting away his tools. "It's all fixed now," he said. "Would you like something to drink?" Tat asked. She was in no hurry to see him leave.
"OK, thanks. But nothing alcoholic. I've got several more jobs ahead of me today and if one of the customers bitches to the company that I've been drinking, they're liable to give me a hard time."
"Oh, I know how that is. I work for the telephone company myself, Mr. Simmons."
"Everybody calls me Bob. But do you really work for Ma Bell?"
"Yes. Information operator. And you can call me Tat."
Tat brought cokes from the kitchen. They sat sipping their drinks, she on the couch and he on a chair, chatting about how it was to work for the phone company. Tat could see that Bob liked her and was attracted to her. As for herself, she thought Bob was one of the cutest and sweetest guys she had ever met. Should she break the ice, she wondered, and get him to make a pass at her? How should she go about doing it? Too bad he didn't want to drink anything stronger than Coke. A drink or two might loosen him up enough to do something. She would have to think of something else.
Other girls might be able to entice their men by displaying cleavage and getting the horny guys to look down their dresses, but that tactic was not open to Tat. What she had to do, she realized, was to excite him with her ass. After all, only a few minutes ago she had concluded that her ass was exceptionally beautiful. Very well then, she would make it work for her. Luckily, in her haste to throw on some clothes, she had not bothered to put on panties. That would make it easy for her to give Bob a real eyeful.
"Bob," she said when they had finished their drinks. "Do you play Ping Pong? We've got a table in the basement." x "Well," he said looking at his watch. "I'm ahead of schedule. I guess I could play for a little while."
He turned out to be a good player, a lot better than Tat. But she didn't mind that. In fact it fitted in very well with her plan. She served the ball to him. It cleared the net nicely and bounced inside the line. Bob returned the ball so that she had to reach for it. But she managed to get it back to him. The rally continued for a while but it was Tat who had to scramble for the ball while Bob seemed to stay in place, coolly returning the ball whenever it came his way. Then she missed it and it rolled away under a chair.
She ran to retrieve it but could not find it immediately. The obvious thing to do would be to get another ball but Tat had other things in mind: they would have to get this ball and no other. She got down on her hands and knees to search under the chair where they had seen it roll. Since she was wearing a very short skirt, she was sure that the posture she had , assumed would give Bob an impressive view of her posterior.
After a few minutes she found the ball and I stood up, tossing it to Bob for his serve.
"Three two," she said, amused at how red his face had become. Did she see a bulge forming in his pants? He served the ball and again they managed to rally it for a while. This time it was Bob who missed. His playing had become somewhat clumsy. Had she got him flustered? Perhaps her little display was having its effect.
In the next rally Tat missed the ball and had to get it out from beneath a chaise lounge. Once again she bent over so that her skirt rode well up over her hips, giving Bob another glimpse of her ass. She took her time about finding the ball this time, actually shoving it into a more remote place than the one where it had rolled. Then she stood up.
"Oh, hell, Bob. The ball's rolled way over in the corner. We'll have to move this chaise, I'm afraid," she said.
"Let me give you a hand," he volunteered. He came over and picked up one end of the chaise. "Can you get the ball now?" he asked. Tat again got on hands and knees with her ass turned toward Bob, and went after the ball. But this time, after she had retrieved it, she came up to him and put one hand on his arm. "Would you mind if we took a break for a while?" she asked. "I banged my knee while I was down there and it kind of hurts." She sat down on the chaise and indicated that he should join her.
"Let's see that knee," he said. "I used to go out for track and I got to where I knew a few of the tricks for easing banged knees and elbows."
Tat swung her leg up and put it across Bob's leg so that he could examine her knee. She executed the movement in such a way that she was sure he got an eyeful of her crotch. He fingered her kneecap in a brisk, efficient manner that was almost professional. Tat put her hand gently over his. "Oooh, that makes it feel so much better," she said, pressing his hand against her knee.
"Well, I don't think you've done any damage to your knee," he said, blushing.
Wow, Tat thought, this guy blushes easily. He must not have had much to do with girls. "My leg hurts a little over here," she said, guiding his hand above her knee. "Would you mind rubbing it a little?"
Poor Bob was red as a beet, but he cooperated with Tat, clumsily stroking her thigh. "Like that?" he asked.
"A little higher. I think I've pulled a tendon or something." She guided his hand higher on her thigh. "Oh, yes," she breathed. "Like that?"
However inexperienced he may have been, he was not deterred from following the dictates of instinct. He needed no further instructions for his hand to find its way to the point where Tat's thigh joined her body. As he proceeded with the massaging of her thigh, he allowed an errant finger to toy with the curls that bordered her snatch. Tat relaxed, letting Bob's appetite guide him beyond this point. She had broken the ice, she realized; now she prepared herself to enjoy the results.
Tat, being the lusty broad that she was, was not content for long to be only a passive participant. Soon, she put her hand on Bob's thigh and began reciprocating the attentions that he had given her. She was moving her palm toward his crotch, wondering what his cock would feel like, when suddenly he stood up.
"What's the matter?" Tat said.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just had to shift my position. My foot was starting to go to sleep." He seated himself again, this time taking her in his arms. "You're nice, Tat. I guess this is my lucky day, being sent here to fix your phone." He kissed her with such gentleness and tenderness that Tat was astonished. Charlie's kisses had never been like that. True, they had been exciting, though after the way he had treated her she would sooner be kissed by a pig. And the kisses she had enjoyed from Olga and Gil were more parent-daughter kisses than those of a lover. She tried to remember the kisses of all the guys she had been with, but here in Bob's arms she discovered that those memories seemed to have faded.
He was barely touching her lips with his. How thrilling this featherlight contact was turning out to be. She put her palms on his cheeks, drew away from him to look intensely at him for a few minutes. Goddamn, she thought, this guy is turning me on as no one before ever has. She let herself melt into his arms, kissing him and being kissed by him with total abandon.
He started now to unbutton her blouse. Instantly, she stiffened, brushing his hand away as if it were "an insect. No, she told herself. When everything was so perfect she could not risk having him reject her on account of her flat chest.
'Tat," he breathed. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?"
"Don't worry about it," she said. She threw herself into his arms as if to demonstrate that he had not lost one iota of his attraction for her. She began kissing him wildly, opening her mouth to him and searching his mouth with her tongue. Now he began to probe her mouth with his own tongue. God, how thrilling his mouth felt on hers. She could go on like this forever.
Bob pulled his mouth away from Tat's and began kissing her throat, then her eyelids, and finally he chewed gently on her earlobes. Thank God, Tat thought, that she had not had time to put on earrings. Again he began putting his hand to her chest. And, as before, Tat pulled away his hand. Bob looked at her, puzzled and hurt by her apparent rejection of his advance.
She would make it up to him, she decided. Tat brought her hand to his crotch. Surely, she thought, if she touched his cock he would see that she did not mean to withhold herself from him in any significant way. But as she groped at the front of his pants her hand was suddenly thrust aside. That was strange. No man had ever reacted this way to Tat before. What had she done wrong, she wondered? She was sure that Bob liked her and even found her exciting sexually. Then what was the trouble, she wondered?
She was not able to think much more about this mystery for now she felt his hand exploring under her skirt. That was better. He was in good territory now and she was happy to welcome him. "Let's get comfortable " she said, lying down on the chaise.
Lying side by side they began kissing again. This time Bob put his. hand under her skirt without having to be enticed. His warm hand was covering her mound. Ah, that felt good, Tat thought. She liked the gentle way his palm cupped her pussy.
"Naughty girl," he laughed softly. "No panties."
"They would only get in the way."
"Do you always dress that way?"
"No. But for you I will. That is, if you like it."
"I like it, I like it." Now he had begun to stroke her pussy. She liked the way he combed his fingers through the curly bush. She would have liked to hold his cock just now and, perhaps, to play with his pubic curls. But Tat, having been bitten once, was now twice shy. Apparently he had some kind of hangup about his cock. Then a shocking thought came to her; what if he had V.D.? Maybe that was it. He had clap or something and was protecting her. What a wonderful guy he was. He was willing to keep his cock in his pants and play with her without caring whether he got his own rocks off. She started kissing him with renewed passion, loving him for his beautiful unselfishness.
Still, perhaps she was wrong. Maybe she had approached him before he was ready for such a bold move on her part. She reached again for his cock. And again he brushed her hand away.
"Don't do that," he said brusquely.
"Why? Don't you like me to touch you there?"
"No. That isn't the reason. Just don't do it, please."
Well, there was no use arguing about it, Tat thought. He was a great lover anyhow so she decided to enjoy his attentions and forget about his cock, at least for the present. Maybe someday she would get to the bottom of this mystery. Then another thought struck her: maybe he can't get his cock up. She had heard that there were a lot of guys who had this trouble. She was sure that if that was his trouble she could cure him. Perhaps someday, when they knew each other better, she would have the chance to try. For the present, Tat decided, she would simply relax and let herself enjoy the lovely things Bob was doing to her pussy.
Almost unintentionally, his middle finger had begun to slip into the crevice between Tat's hairy cuntlips. She was sopping wet down there so that his finger almost fell into place. As he stroked her, she brought her pelvis up to meet his hand. Oh, why didn't he put that finger all the way in, she wondered? Her cunt was beginning to feel so empty. She wanted his finger or his cock or his tongue, something to fill that void.
Then without a word, Bob took his hand away, got to his hands and knees, and pushed open Tat's thighs. He pulled up her skirt and brought his face to her crotch. "Yes, yes." she sighed as his mouth touched her cunt.
He pulled her knees up so that the entire slit was in convenient range of his mouth. Tat felt the tip of his tongue ranging from the lowest reaches of her cunt, a mere couple of centimeters from her asshole, all the way to the top, where the bush of hair was thickest. Now he had turned his head to one side and had begun nibbling at her cuntlips with gentle, teasing bites. Wow, Tat thought, this guy was a master.
Now Bob parted the hairy lips at the top of her cunt while his tongue sought out her clit. There. Now he had found it. He teased her tiny cocklet until it tingled and made her feel itchy and excited all over. From time to time he would suck the little bud or even bite it gently. She felt his fingers pressing into the deep well of her cunt. Good, good. That was what she needed.
"Oh, yes, Bob. Go on, go on." Caught up in the heat of animal lust, she arched her back and began working her pelvis wildly to extract every scintilla of sensation from Bob's mouth and hands. There it was, there it was! She could feel the climax welling up inside her.
"Yes, yes, YES... Oh, I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm COMING!" she growled like a she-wolfe. In a frenzy, she grasped Bob's head, clutching it to her crotch, while her thighs pressed mercilessly against his cheeks.
As Tat descended from the peaks of passion and looked at Bob, he was sitting up, a distraught look on his wet face, as if he were suffering the tortures of the damned. Poor guy, Tat thought, to satisfy her he had got himself all wound up inside but had no relief. She felt terribly sorry for him.
"Bob," she said gently. "Can't I do something for you? It's not good for you to leave yourself all worked up like that. Won't you let me? Please."
"It's all right, Tat. Forget about it. I'll be all right."
Tat noticed that a bulge had formed at the front of his pants. So he can get it up, she thought. Then it must be V.D. What a beautiful man Bob was to deny relief to himself while satisfying me. Tat kissed him tenderly.
Suddenly he stood up. "Good God," he exclaimed looking at his watch. "I've got to get going."
"Call me," Tat said as he walked upstairs to leave. "Please call me, Bob."
"Don't worry about that, Tat. You're going to see a lot more of me." He dashed back to embrace and kiss her one last time before leaving.
"Oh, Boo, thank you for a lovely morning." Tat said, as she reluctantly let him go.
CHAPTER SIX
For three weeks Tat saw no more of the mysterious man who had shadowed her. Gradually her concern over her strange, almost absurd, status as the object of someone's surveillance began to diminish. Helping to put that worry out of her mind was the fact that she had been seeing a lot of Bob Simmons. No matter how often she saw him she would never forget the events of that afternoon that they had spent so delightfully together. She kept the Ping Pong ball that had served as her "ice breaker" on her dressing table. From time to time she would hold it in her hand and pretend that it had some magical property that might bring Bob back for another visit.
It was her first morning back on the day shift. She was waiting at the bus stop as usual when suddenly the black Lincoln pulled up to the curb. She stepped back, surprised, as the car door swung open and Charlie Gordon sprang out. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the car.
"Hi, Tat," Charlie said with what seemed to Tat a forced tone of joviality. "How about a ride to work?"
"Fuck off, Charlie. I can get to work perfectly well without your help." But even as she was protesting, Charlie was dragging her into the car.
"Let me go!" she screamed. Some of the people at the bus stop were beginning to look concerned at what was happening. Tat realized now that the fact that she had called Charlie by name had at First misled them into thinking that this was an encounter between friends. He had got her into the car now and clapped a hand over her mouth. She struggled and kicked, trying to land a kick in his groin, but he was too fast and powerful for her. He forced her onto the floor of the rear of the car, gagged her, tied her hands behind her, and bound her ankles together.
Tat felt the car speeding away. Where were -they taking her, she wondered? And why? Neither she, Olga, nor Gil had much money, so kidnapping hardly seemed a likely explanation. And what was red-headed Charlie doing in this caper? He worked for Dr. Schmerz, didn't he? What had become of the guy with the black hair and mustache? Was he in this thing?
As the car sped along Charlie decided to take advantage of Tat's helpless position to provide himself with some amusement. He glanced up at the driver, apparently making sure that everything was going well. Then Charlie reached under Tat's skirt and began stroking her nylon-clad mound. "Mmmmmmmm" was the only sound Tat could make out through the gag they had put in her mouth.
"Hey," said a gruff voice from the front seat. "What's going on back there? I don't want no funny stuff. Understand?"
"It's OK, Mr. Barnes," said Charlie. "Tat doesn't like the gag. So she's making a little noise."
For a while Charlie sat back on the rear seat and paid little attention to Tat. But then, perhaps because he was bored or because Tat's helplessness seemed to provide him such a good opportunity, he couldn't resist another sexual sortie. This time he turned her face down on the floor and pushed her knees forward so mat her ass .was high off the floor.
What's that son of a bitch doing? Tat thought. She was not kept long in suspense. Charlie pulled down her panties and threw her skirt up to reveal her ass in all its glory. He repressed an impulse to whistle in appreciation of this beautiful derriere. He felt his cock harden in anticipation of the coital delights that Tat's ass seemed to promise. He ran his hand along the heavy cuntlips that showed themselves from between Tat's thighs.
Paradoxically, Tat felt grateful for the fact that her ankles were tied together. That made it impossible for Charlie to spread her thighs if, as appeared likely, he should attempt to fuck her. Well, the sons of bitches can't have everything, she thought wryly.
But Charlie was undaunted. Bastard that he was to take advantage of Tat's position at a time like this (and when he was apparently supposed to be guarding her), Tat heard him pull down his zipper. Apparently he was going to try to stuff his cock into her despite the obstacle that her closed thighs presented.
"MM-mmm-mmmm," Tat grunted through the gag. Charlie persisted.
Now she felt the first contact of the warm knob of his cockhead pressing against her cuntlips. Tat's defensive resources were few indeed, but one tactic was available to her, limited as it was. Now, she said to herself, concentrating. She emitted a loud fart. Take that, you shithead, she thought. I hope it stinks, too.
"Hey, what's the matter with you, Charlie? I don't like no fartin' in my car. Now cut it out," said the voice from the front.
"Sorry, Mr. Barnes," Charlie apologized.
"MM-mmm-mmm," Tat mumbled.
"Are you botherin' that girl?" asked Mr. Barnes.
"Oh, no, Mr. Barnes."
"Well, see that you don't."
Amen, thought Tat. The farting and mm-ing had apparently worked, for Tat heard the sound of a zipper once again and Charlie seemed to be leaving her alone.
Where were they going, Tat wondered? It seemed to her that they had been driving for more than an hour. By this time they must be out of the city but which way they were going Tat had no idea. Riding on the floor of the car like this with her arms tied behind her was very uncomfortable. She hoped that they would hurry up and get to wherever they were going so that maybe they would untie her. There seemed to be one thing in her favor: apparently Mr. Barnes, whoever he was, had no intention of letting Charlie bother her. But that may only have been because he had his own designs on her. And God knows, she thought, what sort of a gorilla this Mr. Barnes would turn out to be.
On and on they drove. Mr. Barnes turned on the car radio and tuned to one of those continuous news stations. Perhaps he wanted to see if Tat's abduction had been brought to the attention of the police. Tat listened with equal interest but heard no mention of the event. Did Olga and Gil know about it? Probably not, since all that would have happened today that was unusual would be her failure to show up for work. The phone company people would be unlikely to look into that right away. No, she wouldn't be missed until tonight, and then not until quite late, since she sometimes went out directly from work. On such occasions she might not return home until after Olga and Gil had gone to bed so that they would not start to get anxious about her until the following morning. By that time she could be a long way away.
She was starting to get hungry now, and, what was more urgent, she had a desperate need to pee. Surely her captors' physiology was not all that different from hers: they must have similar needs. They would have to stop soon. She felt the car turn off of the relatively smooth highway on which they had been driving onto an exceedingly bumpy road. Mr. Barnes, if he was the driver, cut the speed considerably but still Tat was bounced around roughly on the car floor.
Again the car turned onto an even rougher road. Tat could see that they were in a heavily wooded area since, from her spot on the floor, she could see the treetops lining each side of the road. They were so dense that they appeared to form a ceiling over the road. The car slowed to a stop.
"Piss call," said Mr. Barnes. "You go ahead, Charlie. I'll watch the girl."
Charlie left the car and now, for the first time, Tat got a look at Mr. Barnes. He was a stocky, powerfully built man. He had curly black hair, a big moustache, and blue eyes and would be considered handsome except for his tight, thin lips that gave him a certain air of cruelty. However, he didn't have the smirking look about him that Charlie had. Between the two of them, Tat thought, she preferred Mr. Barnes!
He took off the gag. "Thanks," Tat said. "Now tell me what this is all about."
"Take it easy. Just take it easy. You'll find out when the time comes."
"Kidnapping's a serious offense," Tat said. "They'll catch you eventually and when they do, they'll throw the book at you."
"Shut up. That's our worry, not yours."
Charlie had returned now. Barnes set him to guard Tat while Barnes left. the car to take a leak. When he returned Tat said, "What about me? I've got to take a leak too. Or do you want me to piss on the floor of the car?"
"OK Charlie," Barnes said. "Take her out for a piss."
"How the hell am I going to walk out of here with my ankles tied together?" Tat asked.
"I guess you'd better untie her legs," Mr. Barnes instructed Charlie.
"Listen, you shitheels," Tat said. "Are you going to make me pee without taking down my panties? I can't do that with my hands tied, you know. So you might as well untie my hands."
"All right, Charlie. Untie her hands," Mr. Barnes said.
"I don't know, Mr. Barnes. She's a wild one. If we untie her hands there's no telling what she'd liable to do. As it is, with her legs free, she might try to run away."
Mr. Barnes brandished a gun, a grey-blue automatic, under Tat's nose. She was petrified with fear. The thing looked to her to be as big as a cannon as its muzzle was waved in her face.
"She ain't running no place," sneered Mr. Barnes. "Untie her hands. OK Tat, go pee. Never mind going into the bushes. Do it over here next to the car where we can keep an eye on you."
Tat rubbed her ankles and wrists. Jesus, it felt good to get those ropes off of her. Without the gag and with her hands and feet free, maybe there was some way that she could save herself. There was no use thinking about that now. The sinister Mr. Barnes had that frightful gun, for one thing. For another, she was about to burst from her urgent need to pee. In one deft motion, she squatted on the shoulder of the road, alongside of the car, slipped down her panties, and enjoyed the feeling of blessed relief as she let loose a torrent of piss.
"I hope you guys enjoyed the show," she said cynically as she got back in the car. "I guess it's not every day you get to see a lady take a leak."
The two men ignored her remark. "Break out the food, Charlie," Mr. Barnes said. "Let's eat."
Charlie opened a portable cooler that was in the trunk of the car and took out sandwiches for the three of them. They ate in silence, Charlie wolfing his food. Like the animal that he is, thought Tat. Mr. Barnes ate more slowly but with much smacking and licking of fingers. When he had finished, he let forth a resounding burp. "That reminds me, Charlie, where's the beer?" he said.
Charlie produced a can of beer for each person. When they finished, he started to throw the cans into the ditch at the side of the road along with the sandwich wrappings.
"No," growled Mr. Barnes. "Bring that shit back here. We don't want to leave nothing by the road."
"Jesus Christ, Mr. Barnes," Charlie protested. "You want me to pick up all that garbage and put it in the car? What are you some kind of ecology nut?"
"Shut up!" Mr. Barnes growled. "I give the orders around here. Get that stuff back. I don't want to leave no traces."
"Who the hell's going to find those three beer cans along this one crummy road in the asshole of Massachusetts?" Charlie grumbled as he got up to carry out the order.
Well, Tat thought, now I know at least what state we're in. I still can't figure out what this is all about, though.
They drove back to the main highway. Tat was forced to lie on the floor again, though they didn't bother to tie and gag her this time Sooner or later they would have to get gasoline. She wondered what they would do with her then. Her answer came soon enough. Mr. Barnes again drove onto a primitive secondary road. This time, he and Tat got out. "Go back to the main road," he instructed Charlie. "About two miles back, there's a gas station. Fill up the tank. Then come back."
"How do you know you can trust Charlie?" Tat asked Mr. Barnes, when Charlie had driven off.
"He doesn't help me finish the job, he doesn't get paid," grunted Mr. Barnes. "Besides he's to dumb to figure out any angle of his own.
Tat sat on a log that had fallen in the woods close to the road. Mr. Barnes sat beside her. Shit, Tat thought, if this guy should take a liking to my ass, there's nothing to keep him from having a piece while we're out here isolated like this. But she had nothing to fear, for Mr. Barnes made no advances toward her. Apparently, his interest in her was not sexual.
"Listen, Mr. Barnes," Tat said. "What the hell's this all about? Why don't you tell me? If you're after money, I don't see how you'll get anything worthwhile from my folks; they just about get by. So you must be after something else. What the hell is it?" "Look," said Mr. Barnes, gruffly. "I told you before that when the time came for you to know something we'd tell you. So until then, shut up."
Charles came back with the car and their journey resumed. Judging by what she could see of the sky, Tat figured that they were going in a general easterly direction. That meant that they would come to Boston eventually. That, she figured, would give them some problems. How could they stop at the toll booths of the turnpikes or bridges that are found near a large city with a girl lying on the floor of the car without attracting attention?
Apparently they were assuming that the police had not yet been notified of Tat's disappearance, for they made her sit in front next to Charlie as they drove through Boston. Mr. Barnes made Charlie keep the car radio on continuously so that he could monitor the news. There was still no mention of Tat.
"When the hell are we going to stop?" Tat asked. They had been on the road for hours now and she was getting weary. The two men ignored her question as they drove north out of Boston. Evening was approaching.
"Dammit," Tat said. "I'm getting hungry again. When are we going to stop?"
"Ah come on, sister, quit bitching," Mr. Barnes replied. "Listen, Charlie," he continued. "The broad is right. It is time to eat. What do you say we pull off the road some place and break out the food?"
"We can't do that, Mr. Barnes."
"Why not?"
"We ate all the food for lunch."
"I thought I told you to bring enough grub for two meals. You dumb shithead, why can't you get things right? Now I guess we'll just have to hang on till we get to the house."
"There's nothing to eat at the house, Mr. Barnes."
"What? Why not? You were supposed to get the place stocked up. Oh, why the fuck did I have to get involved with a dumb shit like you on this job?"
"The only chance I had to get up here was on Sunday. I forgot that these local clodkickers keep all the stores closed on Sunday. Anyway, I did manage to clean the place up a little and to cut some wood for the stove."
Mr. Barnes ignored Charlie's citation of his mitigating good deeds. "Keep driving. We'll just have to wait till tomorrow to eat. I don't want to take chances messing around with diners and stuff like that."
It took another four hours before they arrived at their destination. When they were an hour away, as Tat judged it later, they blindfolded her to make any attempt to escape more difficult. They drove now on very bumpy roads. From the way the ride felt, Tat guessed that the roads were probably not paved. The car seemed to make a great many turns and to climb up and down hills. At last they stopped. Tat's blindfold was removed.
Mr. Barnes held a flashlight. Except for its single bright beam, they were in total darkness. The only sound was the soft sighing of the wind in the trees. If it were not for the circumstances, Tat thought, she might have found this to be a very pleasant place.
They had come to a small wooden cottage. They walked up onto the screened porch and waited while Charlie fiddled with the lock on the front door of the house. At last he got it open and they entered. Charlie lighted the lantern that was standing on a table in the middle of the small room.
"OK, where do we put the broad?" Mr. Barnes asked.
"Over here. I fixed up a lock for the door," Charlie indicated a tiny bedroom off the main room in which they stood.
"I don't know," Mr. Barnes said hesitantly. "What's to stop her from getting out the window even if we do lock the door?"
"That won't do her much good. She doesn't know where she is and we're so isolated from everything anyway, that no matter which way she might go, she'd never make it through these woods. This is pretty rough country."
"All the same, I don't want to have to chase after her if she gets a bug up her ass to run away. No, keep her door wide open. We'll take turns watching her."
"Aw, come on," Tat tried to plead with them. "Charlie's right. I can't go anyplace. Let me have a little privacy."
"Listen, Tat," Mr. Barnes said. "This is no social occasion. You sleep in there. And with the door open. Now shut up and go to bed."
Tat entered the room and found a small cot with a bare mattress and a coarse blanket. She lay down and covered herself.
"Just a minute," Growled Mr. Barnes. "Don't you get undressed before you go to bed?"
"Why should I?" Tat retorted. "What's the difference?"
"The difference is that it's harder to run away when you're naked. Now get them clothes off, sister."
Reluctantly Tat got up, pulled off her dress and started to lie down again.
"All the clothes, I said," Mr. Barnes rumbled.
"Make her turn around so we can see the titless wonder," said Charlie with a smirk.
"Ah shut up, Charlie. Sometimes I think all your brains are in your cock. She can turn any way she pleases just so long as she takes off all her clothes." Tat was naked now. Again she got under the blanket. It itched abominably, but she decided that complaining about it would be pointless. "OK Charlie," said Mr. Barnes. "Go in there and get her clothes. We'll take care of them for her." he laughed, amused at his own sarcasm.
"Hey, Mr. Barnes," Tat said.
"What the hell do you want now?"
"I've got to pee."
"Jesus, we should have thought of that before. Where's the bathroom, Charlie?"
"Bathroom! Are you kidding? All we have out here is an outhouse. You can take your choice, Tat," Charlie said. "You can get dressed again and I'll take you to the outhouse, or you can use the pisspot under the bed."
Tat chose the pisspot. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been to take a leak on the road under their surveillance. But it was bad enough; the noise of urine gushing into the pot seemed to resound throughout the house. Well, that was over at last and she could get to bed for the night.
Charlie and Mr. Barnes arranged their schedule of sleeping and watching Tat. Mr. Barnes took the first watch, sitting by the light of the lamp on one of the two beds in the main room, fully clothed, while Charlie slept in the other bed. Despite his gruffness, Mr. Barnes worried Tat less than Charlie did. For some reason that she did not understand, Mr. Barnes seemed to be protecting her. There was no telling what insane thing Charlie might try to do to her while he was on watch and Mr. Barnes was sleeping.
Tat's fears were not without foundation. She was shocked into wakefulness by the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Tat sat bolt upright, arms folded across her flat chest. For a moment she was confused: this was not her bed, nor was this her bedroom. Then all the mad events of the past day flooded into her mind and she realized that that was Charlie who was standing over her.
"What the hell do you want?" she said angrily.
"Just shut up. Tat," he said brusquely as he yanked the blanket away from her.
"You'd better stay away from me. You heard what Mr. Barnes said."
"That old fart's out like a light. He won't be able to help you. So if you don't want to get hurt, you'd better be nice to me."
"If you do anything to me, I'll tell him about it. Then your ass will be in a sling."
"Bullshit! I'll tell him I stopped you from trying to escape.' In the dim light coming from the lantern in the other room, Tat saw Charlie pull down his zipper and take out his cock, that cock that she had once admired so much, but now regarded as a mere lump of flesh, and a rather disgusting one at that.
He pulled her head over to his dangling dong. "OK, Tat," he said abruptly. "Let's have a little blow job to start things off."
"Goddam you, you motherfucking asshole," Tat snarled. Much as she hated him and felt disgusted at having to do his bidding, she was afraid to refuse. She brought her mouth to the pendant organ. Christ, what a foul smell the damned thing had. She hadn't experienced that with Bob. Dear Bob, she thought fondly, forgetting for a moment her present plight, would she ever see him again?
"Come on, start sucking, you bitch," Charlie grumbled.
Tat's stomach turned as she took the head of Charlie's prong into her mouth. She sucked at it tentatively. It tasted almost as foul as it had smelled, but she forced herself to continue. Apparently her labor was having the desired result for she felt the button of flesh in her mouth begin to thicken.
"Goddamnit, you can do better than that," Charlie said.
The taste wasn't getting any worse. In fact, Tat thought that it might have gotten weaker. She sucked a little harder at the elongating noodle of flesh in her mouth. It continued to grow bigger. She could hear Charlie draw in his breath as the sensations in his cock began to get hold of him. He began thrusting and grinding his pelvis, moving his cock in and out of Tat's mouth in his frenzy to heighten the sensation.
"Ahh, that's it. Suck. Suck! He grabbed her head as if it were an impersonal object--a bowling ball, or perhaps a pumpkin or a cabbage- and proceeded to fuck her mouth as if it were a cunt. Then, suddenly, to Tat's surprise and relief, he shoved her away from him. Her relief was short lived, for he seized her legs, threw her over, face down, and pulled her ass toward him. Tat felt his fingers pulling open the lips of her cunt in frantic haste. Then, she felt his hard cock being forced into her vitals with a savage thrust. He was fucking furiously now, like a madman.
"Goddamn you, Charlie. I told you to leave that broad alone!" a voice roared. Charlie's cock was yanked out of her and Tat heard his body crash heavily to the floor. "You stupid son of a bitch," she heard Mr. Barnes' angry voice going on. "Can't you think of anything but fucking every cunt you see? You'll have plenty of chances to fuck yourself silly when we get finished with this job. But this broad is like an investment; don't fuck around with that."
Tat heard the thud of a shoe, colliding with flesh. Apparently Mr. Barnes felt that a well placed kick would help to transmit his argument to Charlie's mind. It served him right, she thought, smiling. She glanced over to see Charlie lying on the floor on his back. His fly was still open and his cock that only moments before, had been a battering-ram, now lay like a wet worm along his leg.
Mr. Barnes bent down and picked up Charlie and carried him out of the room. It sounded to Tat as if Mr. Barnes dropped him casually on his bunk as if he were a sack of potatoes. Then Mr. Barnes came over to speak to Tat. "Listen, sister." he said. "Don't get no funny ideas about trying to throw us off guard by throwing your ass at us. Understand?"
"OK," Tat responded. "Why don't you put the lock on the inside of my door. That way I can keep my ass away from both of you."
"Very funny. Now get the fuck to sleep, for Christ's sake." He stomped out of the room and sat down to begin his watch.
So she was the capital in their enterprise. No doubt they intended to convert this capital into money. But how? Surely they didn't expect to be able to get much of a ransom from Gil and Olga. It was just too obvious to anyone who was interested that her family was not wealthy. She couldn't figure out how she could be of any monetary worth to them.
Still puzzling over this mystery, Tat fell asleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Listen, you bastards," Tat was saying the next morning. "You can't expect me to go around here like this. I'm starting to smell like something out of the sewer. You've got to get me a change of clothes and let me take a bath somehow."
"She's right, Mr. Barnes," Charlie added to reinforce Tat's protest.
"When I need your opinion, I'll ask for it," Mr. Barnes growled.
"Come on, bring in some more wood and we'll get a good fire going in the stove. Then after breakfast, we'll let Tat take a bath and do her laundry."
They had become more proficient at firebuilding now. It took no more than an hour to get through with breakfast and to clean up afterwards. Tat threw more wood into the stove and put up a big kettle of water to boil. She rummaged around and found a small basin suitable for a sponge bath and for doing her laundry. After a while the kettle started to boil.
"I suppose you sons of bitches expect me to strip right here to bathe and wash my clothes. Is that the idea?" Tat asked irritatedly.
"Goddam it, Tat," Mr. Barnes snorted. "We're not here for a chummy weekend vacation. I don't give a shit whether you strip or not so long as whatever you do, we can keep an eye on you. Do you understand?"
"OK, OK, you don't have to get excited." Tat pulled off her clothes and, using the rag they had used for dishwashing, proceeded to wash her body with it.
"Need any help washing your back, Tat?" Charlie volunteered.
"Come on Charlie," Mr. Barnes said. "Leave the cunt alone. Christ, all you ever think about is what to shove your cock into. Now pay attention to what I'm telling you. We've got to work out our plans."
Tat had managed to dry herself using the dishtowel. Now she was washing her clothes piece by piece in the basin. Having no change of clothing, she was obliged to remain nude while her wet clothes were hanging up to dry.
"Say, you shitheads," she said. "I could get this stuff dry much faster if I could hang it outdoors. How about it? Can I hang the stuff outside?"
"Did you ever see such a flat chest?" laughed Charlie, ignoring Tat's request. "She's a titless wonder."
"Goddam it, Charlie," Mr. Barnes said. "Why can't you leave the little bitch alone? No," he said addressing Tat. "We don't need flags signalling that you're here. You'll have to hang the stuff inside."
At last she managed to wash herself and her clothes and to hang the wet laundry on an improvised clothesline near the stove. "OK, you turds. That's the end of the show. I'll wait in bed till my stuff is dry." She lay down on her bunk, drew the covers up to her chin, and closed her eyes to relax for a while.
"Well, we've got to have more groceries," Mr. Barnes was saying. "This time I'd better do the shopping. Besides, I have to call Belkin. We've given him enough time to digest the facts. Now we have to start talking business."
"I suppose you want me to stay here and watch Tat," Charlie said.
"Right, and for Christ's sakes keep your hands off of her. I don't care how horny you're feeling. Just remember, Tat's our capital. She's the entire assets in this business. So don't monkey around."
"OK, OK. But I don't see how a little fuck would spoil the merchandise."
"Never mind. Just leave her alone. Understand?"
Mr. Barnes found his car keys and walked out. A few seconds later, Tat heard the car drive away. Charlie turned on the radio and sat down to while away the time. But he soon became bored with the interminable sequence of insipid tunes interspersed with stupid commercials. He got up, paced up and down the room, and sat down again. Then he went to the kitchen for a drink from the pump. After that, he sat down once more to smoke a cigarette, tapping his foot and drumming on the table. Mr. Barnes was a good deal more of a Spartan than Charlie, Tat thought. When Mr. Barnes had had to wait with her he had shown no signs of boredom, but Charlie was already starting to go nuts after only an hour or so. Well, she thought hopefully, he'd get his chance to become inured to boredom when he was thrown in jail. Unfortunately that even seemed to be a long way away.
Now Charlie got up again to pace the floor. TVs clothing hanging on the clothesline she had improvised, caught his eye. He reached up to feel the garments. "Hey, Tat," he said, "your clothes are dry. Why don't you get dressed?"
Tat decided that she would play possum. What was the use, she thought, of giving him another show so soon. Let the boredom work on his small brain a little more. Then she would see what could be done with him.
Charlie looked over to her. Her eyes were closed; she seemed to be asleep. Shit, he thought. It would be a diversion to have another look at that extraordinary flat chest of hers with its ridiculous decoration of two strawberry nipples. That was, of course, omitting the attraction of Tat's remarkable ass. Whatever she lacked in the tit department was well compensated for in the ass. He thought of simply stripping and jumping into bed with her. But if she got mad at him, she might complain to old man Barnes and that bastard would give him a hard time. He turned on the radio once again and relaxed.
When another hour had gone by, Tat decided to act. After all, if she waited too long Mr. Barnes would be getting back and her chances of manipulating Charlie would be diminished. "Charlie," she said in a simpering tone. "Yeah?"
"Would you see if my clothes are dry?"
"Yeah, they're dry."
"Would you mind bringing them over to me?"
"What kind of shit is that, baby? If you want your clothes go and get them. Never mind this modesty bit."
Tat slowly pulled the blanket down from her chin revealing her body bit by bit the way a leg is revealed as one rolls down a stocking. She gritted her teeth as she revealed her body, for she was determined to go through with this thing no matter what stupid words Charlie might say about her flat chest. What difference did it make anyway? The important thing was that through such maneuvers she might manage to gain her freedom. Besides, once she got the blanket down past her groin, she was sure Charlie would be distracted from thinking much about her tits. To augment the distraction, she raised her body off the bed, resting her weight on her shoulders and her feet, at the same time spreading her knees wide apart. There, she thought, that ought to give him a good view of my cunt. Apparently the strategy was working for Charlie's eyes seemed to be practically riveted to her crotch. She was amused to see how his nostrils flared. Like a goddam stud bull, she thought. Soon he would begin to paw the ground and to snort. She could see a bulge start to form in his pants.
"What's the matter, Charlie," she taunted. "Feeling horny?"
"Christ, Tat, you're some cockteaser. Come on, get up and get your goddam clothes."
"I'm getting up. Don't worry. Can't a girl stretch herself a little without your getting all hot and bothered?"' Charlie didn't reply, but merely licked his lips and swallowed as he fought to control himself. Tat got out of bed and slowly walked over to the kitchen to get her clothes. Now she had her back to Charlie and as she passed him, she swung her hips in an exaggerated way, causing the cheeks of her ass to twitch provocatively. She knew without turning to verify the fact that he was watching every move she made. As she took her things off the clothesline, she deliberately managed to drop one piece of laundry on the floor. To retrieve it, she planted her feet wide apart and bent over from the waist in a movement that she had learned in dancing class. This enabled Charlie to see the lips of her cunt pouting through the space between her thighs. She was doing OK. She knew that from Charlie's heavy breathing.
"Goddam it, Tat. Put some clothes over that cunt of yours," he said irritatedly.
"Shit, you've seen cunts before. What are you getting all worked up about?"
"Put your clothes on, dammit."
"What were you saying about a modesty bit a while ago? It looks like you're the one who wants modesty."
Turning to face him, Tat slowly pulled on her panties, making sure to give Charlie a good view of her wide open crotch as she did so. She threw her blouse on quickly so as to conceal her titless chest. That part of her anatomy wasn't going to contribute much to the business at hand; she might as well get it under cover as quickly as possible. She turned her back to him as she pulled on her skirt. That way Charlie could get a good look at her nylon-clad ass.
At last she was completely dressed. Charlie had begun to sweat although the room was actually quite cool. As Tat looked at his face she remembered a phrase she had read somewhere in a book by Aldous Huxley-something about looking like a constipated sheep dog. That was how he looked. All right, sweat, you bastard, she thought. If your stiff cock bothers you, why don't you bend it back and shove it up your ass? But while Tat was thinking these things, she remembered to continue smiling provocatively at him.
"What's this, Charlie?" she asked as she teasingly fingered the throbbing bulge in his pants. She smiled up at him with mock coyness. "Looks like I'm getting to you."
"Cut it out, Tat." he got up and moved away from her. His face was shining with sweat and his eyes had a look of suffering in them. "Listen, Tat," he said tentatively. "You wouldn't mind too much if I-."
"If you fucked me? Is that what you want?"
"Well, you know how it is." Old man Barnes really had him intimidated, Tat thought. The stupid asshole couldn't even bring himself to say right out what it was that he wanted.
"You know what Mr. Barnes told you."
"Yeah. But you wouldn't have to tell him, would you?"
"Maybe not. But after all the shit I've had to take from you about my not having any tits, why should I do you a favor and help you get your rocks off?"
"Please, Tat?" She saw that she was getting him into the state where she wanted him.
"Fuck off, Charlie. Why don't you jerk off if you're so hot and bothered?"
He abandoned his attempt to gain Tat's consent to fuck and took up a newspaper. Whether he really succeeded in concentrating on what he was reading Tat could not tell. However, she noticed that the bulge in his pants didn't seem to diminish. He crossed and recrossed his legs restlessly and occasionally scratched at his crotch as he held the newspaper before him.
"Charlie," she said in her coyest voice.
"Yeah, what?" He was annoyed. Either she should fuck or else leave him alone.
"Who is Belkin?"
"Oh, shit. You know I can't tell you that."
"Why not? What difference would it make?"
"I don't want any trouble with Mr. Barnes. That's all."
Again Tat walked over to where Charlie was sitting and began to finger his crotch. She could feel his flesh harden beneath her touch. Despite the look of suffering and anger on his face, he did not try to make her stop the agonizing pleasure she was giving him. This time Tat became a little more aggressive. She pulled down his zipper and put her fingers inside his fly. She groped around until she managed to grasp the hard cylinder of smooth flesh, bending it and pulling at it until she had got it out.
"Tat, don't," he protested. This time the assaults that the sensations in his hungry cock were making on his brain made him cast aside the reservations that Mr. Barnes had forced upon him. He lay back resigning himself totally to the enjoyment of Tat's ministrations. He looked down at her to try to understand what she was doing that made him feel so exhilarated. Then he saw that she had not only pulled his cock into view but his balls as well. In some curious way she was gently, delicately scratching his balls with her fingernail. For some reason, this simple manipulation was nearly driving him wild. The clear love dew was oozing copiously from his cock as Tat continued working on him.
Suddenly she drew away from him. He was a funny sight, she thought, with his stiff prick waving like a flagpole in the wind and his face showing that peculiar look of concentration that one has when one's mind is focused exclusively upon sexual pleasure.
"Tat," he sighed. "Don't stop now."
"Tell me, Charlie. Who is Belkin?"
"Who gives a shit about Belkin now? Come on back here."
"Tell me about Belkin and maybe I'll come back."
"He's some rich friend of Mr. Barnes."
"And Mr. Barnes figures to get money out of him somehow. Right?"
"Yeah. Something like that. Now come back here."
Tat resumed her tickling and scratching. She ran her fingernail gently up Charlie's cock along its under side from his balls out to the tip. He shuddered with excitement. Now she began spreading the love dew over his cockhead with her finger. Charlie threw his head back. He closed his eyes and let his mouth hang open as if he were in some kind of trance. "Oh God. God," he gasped from time to time while Tat continued to stimulate him.
Once again, she stopped abruptly. "Oh, Tat. Tat," he gasped. "Go on, dammit."
"Why does Mr. Barnes expect Belkin to give him money?"
"For you. Belkin's supposed to ransom you."
"Buy why? Who the hell is Belkin? Why would he want to ransom me?"
"Jesus, that's enough. Get back to what you were doing, for Christ's sake."
Tat knelt before Charlie and gently kissed the head of his cock. He gave forth a long sigh of pleasure as she tenderly licked up the love dew. Now she took the entire pink head into her mouth and softly chewed on it. "My God, that's good," he gasped. He was breathing heavily and beginning to sweat.
Tat had several inches of the cockshaft in her mouth now. Her head bobbed up and down as she sucked and released, sucked and released Charlie's cock. He was completely carried away by this excruciatingly pleasant process. Each time that Tat's mouth engulfed Charlie's cock, he thrust his pelvis upwards as if to shove the entire organ down her gullet. He was rapidly approaching the point where he was oblivious to the entire world, conscious only of his cock and the pleasure Tat's mouth was giving it. And again Tat suddenly stopped her miraculous work.
"Get back there, you bitch," Charlie groaned in thrilling agony. He tried to grab her head, but she eluded his grasp.
"Why would Belkin ransom me?"
"Mr. Barnes has convinced him that he's your father."
"My father? Good God. Why would he think that?"
"Jesus. I've told you too much already. Now get back to your sucking."
But instead of continuing to suck Charlie's prick, Tat suddenly turned her back to him and threw up her skirt.
"Pull down my panties, Charlie," she instructed him.
Charlie didn't have to be asked twice. He nearly tore the garment in his haste to wrench the flimsy cover off Tat's ass. She stepped free of the wisp of cloth after it had fallen to her ankles. Now she bent forward from the waist as she had done earlier when she had been picking up her laundry. But this time, she was so placed that her cunt was within inches Of Charlie's face. He grabbed her hips and pulled her ass close to him. He sniffed the funky odor of her cunt for a moment, then thrust his nose and mouth into the cliff. Despite Tat's resentment of Charlie for all that she had suffered because of him, she could not deny to herself that what he was doing now was thrillingly pleasant. But she forced herself to concentrate upon her goal. She must not let herself be turned aside by sexual pleasure.
She pulled away from Charlie, grabbed his stiff, wet cock and lowered her ass as she guided the cock into her cunt. Again Charlie emitted a long, low sigh of pleasure as he felt Tat's hot, juicy cunt engulf his suffering cock. For a few minutes, Tat began working her cunt up and down on the hard shaft of flesh. She could tell from his grunting and moaning that she had brought him nearly to the point of coming. Then, once again she pulled away from him.
"Oh, Tat, Tat, come back. Please, come back. I was just about to come, dammit." He was frantic with frustration.
"Then tell me why Belkin thinks that I'm his daughter."
"Mr. Barnes showed him photos of you. Besides Mr. Barnes seems to know a lot about you for some reason. He managed to convince Belkin. That's all I know, dammit. Now get back here and let's get on with the fucking."
Tat resumed the position that she had abandoned and once again she brought Charlie to the edge of the precipice of passion.
"Ah, now Tat. Now." He began heaving and thrusting his body so wildly that Tat had a hard job maintaining contact between her cunt and his cock. "Yes. Yes. That's it. Oh, Oh, OHHH!" He was fairly shouting now as the demands of his body took full possession of him. Tat felt the hot jism spurting from his cock into her cunt.
Suddenly they heard the sound of a car stopping outside the house. Charlie pushed Tat away so fast that as his cock left her cunt it made a sound like a cork being pulled from a wine bottle. He shoved the dripping organ into his pants while Tat stepped adroitly into her panties and smoothed her skirt.
Mr. Barnes entered the house, his arms loaded with bundles of groceries. "O.K., you two," he said. "Let's get this shit put away. Then Tat can fix us some grub."
"Fuck you," Tat replied. "Why should I fix grub for you?"
"Because you want to eat the same as we do. Now get to it, sister."
He had bought three steaks, Tat saw. Since they had no refrigerator, the meat would have to be cooked at once. Well, what the hell, she thought, she hadn't had a decent meal since she had been kidnapped. When the opportunity presented itself, she had better take advantage of it even if it did mean having to cook for these two bastards. Besides, should an opportunity to escape occur, she had better be as well fortified as possible.
The fire in the stove had nearly burned out. But they managed after a little while to rebuild the fire and to get enough heat to fry the steaks in an old skillet that Tat found. The steaks together with other items that Mr. Barnes had brought from Hansonville provided the first good meal that any of them had had since this mad adventure had started. No doubt that was the reason that they ate in silence. Tat wondered what Olga and Gil were doing now. She felt sorry for them? They were probably worried sick about her. She hated these rotten bastards she thought as she looked at them sitting there chomping away on the steaks she had cooked. She hated them not only for what they had done to her, but for the misery they were causing Olga and Gil.
"Anything new in town?" Charlie broke the silence with this question to Mr. Barnes.
"Yeah. I got in touch with our man." That would probably mean Belkin, Tat thought.
"Good. So what do we do now?"
"We wait for him to come here. Meanwhile Pete and Sal will bring the old bitch up here."
"What the hell do we need her for?"
"He won't pay unless he gets confirmation from the old hag."
"This is getting too complicated. Either one of them could bring the cops along and then we'll really have our hands full."
Tat was getting excited now.
"Don't worry about that. I've got a plan to take care of that situation."
Who was this "old bag" that Mr. Barnes was referring to, Tat wondered? And what was the plan that Mr. Barnes referred to? This thing was starting to get crazier and crazier. She was tempted to ask questions but she thought better of it and decided to keep quiet. Besides, she could most probably get the answers from Charlie later.
The day wore on and Tat found herself almost pleased at having chores to do to relieve the boredom. She swept up the place and washed the dishes while Charlie and Mr. Barnes read the papers and listened to the radio news. There was still nothing reported about her kidnapping. Well, perhaps she just wasn't important enough to rate a radio news report. After all, Olga and Gil weren't rich or important people. As for Belkin, he was probably rich enough, but how could he report a kidnapping to the police when he only knew the victim from photographs and the stuff that Mr. Barnes had been telling him?
The radio droned on and on. The Dow-Jones average was thus and so, potato futures were some figure or other, Kissinger went someplace, and Hurricane Felicia was blowing around off Cape May. What did it all matter, Tat thought. What concerned her was how she would get out of this place and whether she would make it alive. She had heard of kidnapping cases where the criminals got panicky and killed the victim.
When night came and it had grown late, Mr. Barnes and Charlie set up their schedule for standing guard over Tat as they had done before. Tat could hardly wait for Charlie to begin his watch. She was sure now that she could get more information out of him. And who could tell, maybe she could even find some way to escape?
At last Mr. Barnes woke up Charlie. She saw him sit up and rub his eyes. He rummaged around to find a newspaper he had been reading and then sat down near the lamp after glancing at Tat to assure himself that she was apparently asleep. Tat kept her eyes nearly closed, feigning sleep until she was sure that Mr. Barnes had himself fallen asleep. She heard him fart loudly a couple of times as he settled himself down. Then at last she heard the steady snoring that told her he had gone to sleep.
"Charlie," she whispered. He looked up at her, startled.
"What do you want?"
"Shhh," she warned. "-Don't make so much noise."
"O.K. What do you want?" he whispered. "Come over here."
He walked over to her bed. As she had done that afternoon, she pulled down his zipper, opened his fly, and took out his cock. What a ridiculous, dangling lump of flesh it was now, instead of the proud prong she had played with earlier.
"Cut it out, Tat. No fun and games now. We might wake up Mr. Barnes. Then there'll be hell to pay."
"Relax, Charlie. I'll be real quiet if you will. What the hell, I can't sleep. Might as well have a little fun." He said no more but since he continued to stand near the bed Tat took his silence for assent.
She began squeezing the flabby prick gently, feeling it begin to fill out slowly, lengthening and hardening. Then, without the prolonged preliminaries she had performed before, she sat up and took the now rigid cock into her mouth. She heard Charlie sigh with pleasure. After a few pulls, she drew away.
"Who's the 'old bag' Mr. Barnes is planning to bring up here?" she asked.
"Christ, you're stupid, Tat. You should have been able to figure that out. The 'old bag' is your mother."
"Olga! Oh, no. He can't get HER into this," Tat said, her voice rising well above a whisper.
"Shhhh." Now it was Charlie's turn to demand quiet. "Don't wake up old man Barnes."
Somehow or other, Tat realized, Mr. Barnes knew not only that Olga was her mother, but also he knew that Olga knew this guy Belkin and would perhaps verify that Belkin was Tat's father. That was strange. Olga had always told her that she did not know who Tat's father was. She doubted that Olga would have lied to her about the matter. What point would there be in that? What was the connection between Olga and Mr. Barnes? She had never heard Olga mention anyone by that name.
"Hey," Charlie was whispering now. "If you're going to give me a blow job, let's get on with it."
Tat doubted that there was much more to be learned from Charlie now. She was beginning to get a picture of what this whole caper was about. So what was the point in fucking around any more with Charlie? Well, she had got him turned on now and it might be tough to try to turn him off. Besides, if she could keep him hot and homy, always looking to her for another suck or fuck, she might be able to make more use of him. Who could tell, perhaps he could help her to escape. She took his cock back into her mouth once again.
This time, Tat thought, it would be better to get him off quickly rather than to prolong the process. If she made too much of it, they might wake up Mr. Barnes and that might prove troublesome. She cupped his balls in her hand while she sucked away valiantly on his cock. She was drawing love dew now, she could tell by the taste. That was a good thing. And she could hear Charlie almost snorting, he was breathing so heavily. But what about Mr. Barnes? She stopped in midstroke to listen. Yes, he was snoring away oblivious to what she and Charlie were doing.
Charlie was approaching climax now. He grabbed her head in his hands in a wild endeavor to push his cock all the way down her throat. Tat feared she would choke on the cockhead probing at the back of her throat, but she forced herself to relax and let happen what would. Then Charlie began to come. Tat felt the hot juice oozing into her throat. Blob after blob of the salty stuff filled her mouth. She could not breathe. She was becoming frantic. She must either spit or swallow. Somehow, just as she felt that she would surely choke to death, she managed to draw away enough from Charlie so that she could swallow. Gulp after gulp, she managed to get the stuff down until her throat was clear and she could breathe again.
"Oh shit," Charlie whispered when he had finished coming and had wiped off his cock on Tat's blanket and shoved it back in his pants. "It's time for Mr. Barnes' watch."
Tat let herself sleep through the next watch, managing to wake up when Charlie came back for his next tour of duty. Once again she called him to her bed.
She repeated the performance she had given before, but this time she decided to strike out in a new direction. When she had got his cock good and stiff, she pulled away from him as she had done that afternoon. As usual he protested at the interruption of his pleasure.
"Charlie,". Tat whispered. "Let's run away."
"What, are you nuts or something? After old Barnes and I get the money and hand you over, I'm going to skip the country. I've heard of places you can live like a king on the money I'll be getting."
"What makes you think Mr. Barnes will ever let you get your share of the money? The way he pushes you around, you'll be lucky to come out of this thing alive. After all, you know as much about this caper as he does. He'd be a lot safer if he knew you couldn't be a witness against him. It wouldn't surprise me if he's planning to kill both of us."
Charlie was silent as he thought about what Tat had said. She could see that her words were having a strong effect on him. "If you help me to escape," she added. "They might take that into account and go easy on you. No matter what happens, you're in trouble. But if you stick with Mr. Barnes, you may be a lot worse off."
"Yes, but if I help you to escape, Mr. Barnes would shoot me for sure."
"OK. So don't stay here; come with me."
Charlie said no more. His cock had softened and Tat turned her attention to stimulating it back to hardness. She had made up her mind to give the son of a bitch a good time, no matter what she thought of him. She wanted him thoroughly tame so that she could lead him around by the cock. And that, she reflected, was probably the only way she would be able to lead Charlie Gordon.
This time she got up on her knees with her shoulders touching the bed. She thrust her ass back toward Charlie who was kneeling on the bed behind her. Then she reached back and guided his prick into her cunt. They began fucking with long, slow motions. Charlie socked in the old dong right up to the hilt. Then he pulled it out slowly, letting himself luxuriate in the sensations generated by the soft warmth of Tat's cunt. Then, when only the tip of his cockhead was still within Tat's cuntlips, he began another thrust. Tat could feel him straining at the end of each thrust as he tried to bury the last millimeter of his cock inside her.
She pulled away from him suddenly leaving him kneeling on her bed with his wet, angry red cock sticking out in front of him like the snout of a sawfish. "Christ, Tat." he said. "That's a hell of a time to stop. What's the trouble now?"
"I've got to take a shit."
"You sure picked one hell of a time for that."
"I can't help it. The way you bastards have been feeding me, it's no wonder that my guts are all fucked up."
"Well," said Charlie, stuffing his still hard cock into his pants, "if you have to take a shit, go ahead. That pot's under your bed in the usual place."
"Oh, come on, Charlie. Let me go to the outhouse, please. After all, if I take a shit here just think how it'll stink up the place. Come on, please get me my clothes and take me out to the snit house."
"Well, it's against my better judgement, but OK." He left Tat's bed and began rummaging around to find her clothes. After a few minutes he came back.
"Goddam it, Tat," he whispered. "I think old man Barnes must have hidden your clothes somewhere. I sure as hell can't find them."
"Damn," Tat swore. That Barnes was a sneaky bastard. How would she be able to get out of here without her clothes? She grabbed the blanket off the bed and wrapped herself in it. "OK, Charlie, I'll go like this."
When they got outside, Tat took a direction that did not lead to the outhouse. "Hey, where the hell are you going?" Charlie demanded.
"Sssh," Tat cautioned. "Follow me."
"Come on, Tat, don't fuck around."
But Tat ignored him. She led him around to the front of the house to the gravel driveway, taking care not to walk on the gravel so as to minimize the noise.
"Where's the car?" she asked.
"You're not planning to take a shit in the car, are you?"
"Of course not, stupid."
"Then what do you want with the car?" he asked suspiciously.
Tat realized that she had acted impulsively and foolishly. In her eagerness to flee she had seized the simplest pretext to get Charlie to let her out of the house. She had hoped that she could somehow lure him into the car and then find a way to induce him to drive away with her. But here she was, dressed only in a blanket, with no shoes, and with neither money nor food for whatever journey she might try to make. That was no way to go about making a getaway.
On the other hand, if she were to allay Charlie's suspicions she could not now merely spend ten minutes in the privy and then go back to the house. Even Charlie, stupid as he was, would wonder why she had wanted to know about the car. She would have to come up with something to explain that.
"I thought we could do something a little special in the car," she said in a tone that insinuated something lascivious.
"Special? Like what?"
"Oh, you know," Tat said with exaggerated coyness. "Some real special fucking."
"I thought we were already doing some pretty fair fucking back in the house. That is, until you yanked away that cunt of yours."
"That was OK. But it was nothing compared to what I have in mind."
"Does it have to be done in the car?"
"You know how it is. Sometimes I just get carried away and start grunting or screaming. That might wake up Mr. Barnes. That's why I thought it would be better not to do it in the house."
"Well, I sure as hell can't figure out what happened to the car," Charlie said, perplexed. "When I drove it, I left it right here in the driveway. Mr. Barnes must have left it around here somewhere. He sure didn't walk back from Hansonville with his arms loaded with groceries.
They looked around for a few minutes but still could not find the car. Apparently Mr. Barnes had found some way to hide it. He was a cagy bastard, Tat thought. He probably half expected that she would be able to lure Charlie into letting her get away and wanted to make sure that she wouldn't have the car available.
"Didn't you say you had to take a shit?" Charlie asked.
"That was just to get you outside for this special treat."
Charlie made no reply to that remark. Perhaps he didn't believe her. Tat was sure, however, that if Charlie anticipated some unusual sexual pleasure, he would quickly put aside any suspicions that he might have had about her motives. The guy who wrote that a stiff prick has no conscience probably had Charlie in mind.
"What is this goddam treat anyway?" he asked.
Tat got down on the lawn on all fours, assuming the position that she had had on the bed. "Come on, Charlie. Let's get back to our fucking."
"Are you nuts or something? That's just the same thing we were doing on the bed. What's so special about doing it out here on the grass instead of inside on the bed?"
"Get that cock of yours into my cunt .and you'll find out."
Charlie never needed a second invitation to fuck and this occasion was no exception to the rule. Despite his earlier protests, he did in fact find that fucking al fresco, even in the dark of night, had a special zest for him. That; however, was not the treat that Tat had in mind.
Just as she had done before, she suddenly drew away from him, but this time she remained prone but with her ass raised high and pushed back toward Charlie. He immediately tried to grab her and impale her cunt once again upon his cock.
"Hold it, Charlie," Tat said, "here's the treat. Put your cock into my asshole."
"Christ," he exclaimed. "Do you mean that? You really want to get fucked in the ass?"
Tat had never been fucked this way before. But she had heard that many people did it and got some sort of special kick out of it. She guessed that Charlie was one of them. If that proved to be true, then Tat would have one more attraction that she could use in her struggle to bamboozle Charlie into helping her escape. As for herself, Tat didn't particularly fancy getting fucked in the ass. So far as she was concerned, the cunt was the proper receptacle for the cock every time.
"Sure," she replied, pretending to be quite cool although she was actually quite nervous about it. "Go ahead. But Charlie... "
"Yeah?"
"Please take it easy. OK?"
He said no more but spread the cheeks of her ass with his hands while he brought the head of his cock into contact with Tat's small, pink, puckered, round asshole. He began pressing his body forward, trying to make his huge cock enter the small orifice that Tat had offered. At first nothing happened. Then Tat, with the iron resolution that her desire for freedom inspired, bore down as if she were trying to take a shit and so forced her sphincter muscles to open for Charlie's entrance.
Tat was surprised to find, after the first discomfort caused by the stretching of her asshole by the entering cock, that the sensation was not at all unpleasant. But it was a good thing that Charlie's cock was well lubricated from having been in her cunt. Otherwise this might have been a very painful experience.
"Aaaaaah," Charlie sighed, thrilled with the sensation in his cock that resulted from the snug way it was embedded in Tat's flesh. He began to press further into her.
"Easy, Charlie. Easy. Put it in real slow," Tat cautioned. She forced herself to relax. That, she knew, was the only way to get through this experience. Relaxation was not easy since, in the back of her mind, was the feeling that Charlie was hardly a considerate man. At any time he could be driven by his piggish hunger for self gratification and start fucking furiously without regard to what she might be experiencing.
Fortunately Tat had got him highly aroused before he began this exotic venture. As a result his cock was making love dew in copious quantities so that it was nice and slick and moved in and out of her asshole quite easily. She began to forget her fears and to enjoy the sensations. It no longer mattered to her how furiously Charlie moved. She was ready for anything now.
"God, this is fantastic. Give me that ass, you bitch," he was growling. "I'm going to fuck you, do you understand? Fuck you, fuck, fuck." He was grunting loudly now.
"Sssssh!" Tat tried to calm him. "You'll wake up Mr. Barnes."
But Charlie was beyond caring about anything except discharging the potential that Tat had generated in him. She saw that she had better bring this little game to a swift conclusion. She started tightening and relaxing her sphincter muscles. That apparently was sufficient to drive Charlie almost out of his mind for he started howling like a banshee. But Tat continued gyrating her ass and squeezing his cock with her rectal muscles until at last, with a blood-curdling shriek, he began to come. She felt his juices flood into her ass as he lunged and thrust his cock savagely into her. Then he collapsed, falling to the ground as if he were dead.
For a moment Tat was alarmed, thinking that he had had a heart attack or something, for he lay, eyes closed, flat on his back, his face was wreathed with a soft smile of total contentment. His gooey cock lolled from his fly and Charlie was totally oblivious to the fact. Then Tat experienced shocking realization: the darkness was diminishing. That was why she was able to see these things.
"Charlie," she hissed at him, "Get up. You're supposed to wake up Mr. Barnes for the next watch. Come on, dammit. Wake up." She shook him and poked him, but he paid no attention and merely continued sleeping.
Well, what the hell, she thought. Why was it her business if her jailer missed his watch? What a pity that she had only this crummy blanket; she could haul her ass out of here right now if only she had her clothes. Worse yet, dawn was at hand so that flight could not take place under cover of darkness. Goddam it all, she thought, when would she have so good a chance again as she had right now? If only she had shoes, at least.
Charlie was beginning to snore now. As she looked at him, she noticed an odd thing: his feet were unusually small. Would his shoes fit her? What a crazy idea. Still, if she had shoes, any shoes, she could get away. At once she untied Charlie's shoes and slipped them off his feet. He snored on, in total unconsciousness, as she took off his socks. She would have a long tough walk ahead of her. She knew that she would be better off wearing socks, even these damp, smelly socks of Charlie Gordon's.
When she had got the socks and shoes on, she stood up. She must be a funny sight, she thought, wrapped in a blanket like an Indian, wearing men's shoes. Well, Tat thought, she would have plenty of time to worry about her appearance later, after she got away from these two slobs.
What about food? Did she dare steal something to eat from the house before she took off? She decided to chance it. She tiptoed quietly in the back door and paused to listen before she dared go further. Good. Mr. Barnes was breathing the long deep draughts of the sound sleeper. Quickly now, she told herself. Quickly but silently. She thought of rummaging for food in he kitchen but decided merely to grab the carton of dog food she had stashed away a few days back. Then she tiptoed out of the back door. She took one last look at Charlie as he lay snoring on his back. His cock, the center of his being, had now shrunk to a little finger of flesh that hung foolishly out of his fly. You've had the last fuck you'll get out of me, Charlie Gordon, she thought as she ran into the woods.
CHAPTER EIGHT
There was no use walking on the road, Tat thought. Not at least until she had gotten far away from the house. After all, those jerks had a car so that they could quickly catch up with her if she took the road. The thing to do was to stay in the wooded regions, not too far from the road so that she could guide herself toward inhabited places.
Although it had grown light a few hours ago, the sun was still not visible. At first Tat attributed the gloominess to the fact that she was walking in a dense pine forest. But when she looked up at the sky she saw that it was overcast. She hoped that it wasn't going to rain. That's all she needed- to be tramping around in the woods, not knowing where she was going, clad only in a blanket, and getting rained on besides. At any rate it beat having to be cooped up with those two bastards.
Then as she rounded a bend in the road she saw it-a gas station. Saved at last, she told herself. She began running toward the dumpy place. What if it was grubby looking and unpainted, with old wrecked cars lying about, and the letter fallen out of the sign so that it read "SU O O" She thought she detected a sign of smoke coming from a short smokestack at the rear of the small building. There must be people within.
She opened the front door and walked inside. The interior of the gas station was even grubbier than the exterior. The big plate glass window in front looked as if it had never been washed since the day that the place had been built. It was smeared and covered with fly specks. There was a desk that was littered with greasy papers, a chair that must have been covered with leather at one time. The stuffing stuck out through numerous holes in the leather and the seat had become molded so that it apparently conformed to the contours of a large ass that must have sat upon this chair for countless years. Numerous greasy, dusty automobile parts littered the floor, another chair, and every available shelf and resting place. There were air filters, carburetors, mufflers, distributor caps, spark plugs, and parts of transmissions. Tat wondered how the owner managed to work in all this mess.
After she had waited for half an hour for someone to appear she tried the door that was at the back of the office. She knocked and waited for a few minutes. The odor of food came to her nostrils making her ravenously hungry.
A fat, bald headed man in his fifties answered the door. He wore rimless glasses whose lenses were nearly as begrimed as the front window of the place. He had a bristly growth of gray beard.
"What was it you wanted?" he asked Tat.
"Do you have a telephone I could use?"
"Who is it, Pa?" asked a voice inside the door. It sounded to Tat like the voice of a younger man.
"Woman," the old man answered.
"Says she wants a telephone."
The younger man came to the door now. Tat saw that he was stocky, strong looking and had small black eyes set close to his long nose that gave his face a ratlike appearance.
"You got money?" the young man asked.
"No," Tat answered. She opened her mouth to explain her situation but before she could get a word out, the young man interrupted her.
"We can't let you use the phone if you got no money." Tat noticed that he was looking at her curiously. She had no doubt that she must have been a strange sight, covered with a blanket and all wet and bedraggled.
"But I'll make the call collect. There wouldn't be any charge to you that way," Tat argued.
"Makes no difference. You got no money you don't make the call," the old man said. As he was speaking, the younger man stared at Tat so hard that he looked as if his eyes would pop out. From time to time he swallowed and licked his lips. Probably hadn't seen a woman in years, Tat speculated.
"Maybe we could work out something. Pa," the young man said.
"Ayah, Tim, you're forgettin' that the last time we let a stranger use the phone back in fifty-three it cost us thirty-two cents. We can't afford to take risks."
Oh, fuck these two loonies, Tat thought. The hell with them: she'd get back on the road and take her chances on being picked up or on finding another gas station.
"Well, can you tell me how far it is to Hansonville?" Tat asked.
"Not from here," the old man said.
"There must be some way to get to Hansonville," Tat said.
"Ayah, you have to go back to Barleyburg."
"How far is that?"
"Don't rightly know."
"Well, which direction is Barleyburg?" She was getting exasperated.
"You must be awful wet," Tim said. "Don't you have no raincoat? What happened to your car?"
"I don't have a car. I walked."
The old man squinted at her suspiciously. "Walked, did you? Just where did you start your walking?"
"I'm not exactly sure."
"Tim, I bet she ran away from the loony bin over at Hansonville. Maybe we'd better call the state troopers."
"Yes, yes!" Tat cried. "Please call them."
"We'll call them after a while," Tim said. "They ain't going to rush over here so fast in all this rain anyway. Meanwhile you can dry your things."
"Ayah, I don't like it, Tim. Don't like it at all," the old man grumbled.
"It's OK, Pa. There's two of us to keep an eye on her. Besides it does get lonely around here. We could do with a bit of company."
"Hmmph. Still don't like it." Despite his protesting words, the tone of the old man's voice signalled his acquiescence. Tim opened the door wider and beckoned Tat to enter.
The room was no less cluttered than the front office. It contained two rumpled unmade beds, a table littered with dirty dishes, and boxes, cartons, and oily rags everywhere. Amid the chaos on the table, Tat noticed two bowls of soup, still steaming.
"You hungry?" Tim asked.
"I'm starved."
"Must be another bowl and spoon somewhere." He gestured to her to sit down. Tat looked for a bowl and spoon and found them at last in the sink at the rear wall of the room. The sink itself was filthy and was filled with a quantity of dirty dishes that must have taken weeks to accumulate. She washed a bowl and spoon as well as she could though she was hindered by the need to hold her elbows tight against her sides so as to keep her blanket in place.
Tim and his father sat on wooden boxes. Apparently these two primitives had no chairs. Tat managed to find a box for herself to sit on and drew it up to the table.
"Ayah, Tim," the old man said. "Maybe the lady would like to dry out her things before she eats."
"No, thanks," Tat said. "I'd rather eat first."
"Sit there in them wet clothes and you'll get rheumatism," the old man said.
Tat ignored the remark and accepted the soup that Tim poured from a pot on the table. Who did the cooking and how well, not to mention whether any attempt was made at observing elementary rules of sanitation, were questions that Tat put out of her mind. The soup tasted good and she ate it greedily.
When she had finished, Tat went over to the potbellied stove to dry out. Fortunately, Tim and his Pa had a good fire burning. It was not long before Tat's blanket was actually steaming. As she turned slowly round and round, Tat noticed that the wind and rain had become absolutely fierce. The fire flickered and the stove made queer noises as the wind blew across the chimney. Torrents of water seemed to be crashing against the walls of the building.
"I'm glad I'm not out there any more," Tat said.
"Ayah, it's a bad one," said the old man. "Hurricane Felicia, Pa," said Tim. "That what them radio fellers said?"
"Yep."
"Maybe you could call the state troopers before the storm get worse," Tat said.
"Them troopers'll have their hands full if this here's a hurricane," said Tim. "Time enough to call them when the storm's over. You better figure to stay here a while. Why don't you take off your blanket and hang it up near the stove?"
"I can't," Tat replied.
'"Tain't nailed onto you, is it?" the old man asked.
"No, I just don't have any clothes except this blanket."
"You mean you're nekkid under that thing?"
"That's right."
"He, he, he," laughed the old man. "I reckon you must have been naughty, so they took away your clothes. What did you do, wet the bed?"
"Now, Pa," said Tim. "Don't fret the lady."
But the old man was not to be pacified that easily. He walked over to Tat, bent down and looked under the blanket.
"She's nekkid all right, Tim. Come on, let's all have some fun!"
Tat had no choice. She went along with them, they all had a good time and fell asleep all with smiles.