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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
A Taste For Torture
Chapter Six
DarnellÕs day had not begun at the airport. It had begun in a small
town in Mexico, next to the Imperial De La Paza Airport. The town was hot
and dusty. It boasted 17,000 residents but Darnell guessed that most of
those were flies.
He was sitting in a cafe having breakfast, sweating already from the
heat. It was making him uncomfortable despite his light collared shirt
and shorts. Into this musty interior, with its swirling fans, which seemed
to do nothing but pass the heat around, came two gorgeous senoritas.
Darnell had been grousing to himself about how he had lost Jacinta to
Krull. His lover Kyla had been complicit; she seemed as fasciated by the
mysterious Indian forest ranger as the girl. Suddenly, Darnell forgot
completely about the teen. The senoritas went to a table in front of his
and the waiter seated them.
Darnell pretended to eat his breakfast. But gazing at the luscious
senoritas, he found it impossible to eat. His stomach bunched itself into a
small ball and refused food. His cock, on the other hand, became
gargantuan in his pants. He shifted uncomfortably. But he didnÕt dare rise
and leave. The view was too wonderful.
The senoritas ordered berry flavored drinks. The town was poor but
they seemed to move with a sophistication born of wealth. Their eyes
gazed languidly out at the heat, through the window of the cafe. They
talked softly. Jacob watched their lips; they were full, indulgent lips, and
they drank their berry drinks from slim red straws, savoring the liquid,
while watching a beggar outside beg in the dust. He was an old man,
emaciated by years of heat and drought, reduced to flaccid strips of skin
hanging from his Indian skeleton.
The girls were not Indians. They were descendants of the Spanish
conquerors. They moved with an aristocratic grace. They studied the
world outside the cafe with the smug arrogance of those who have
received, effortlessly, from the earlier labor of others and at the expense
of those who are living now.
Mostly, however, they ignored the villagers outside: the flies, the
dogs, the young children running in the dirt strip that passed for a street.
They conversed quietly. They finished their ice-laden drinks and ordered
more. As they put their lips to the straws of the second round of drinks,
and sucked greedily, Darnell thought of himself, and his own need. He
could use a drought right about now. It would lessen the pain in his pants.
One of the girls looked at him. It was not the gaze of a virgin, as
Jacinta gave him. But Darnell, feeling the tightness in his crotch,
reflected on how it was pleasant sometimes to meet girls who were
ready, who knew what they wanted because theyÕd had it before. Darnell
smiled. She smiled back. She was young; eighteen, perhaps only
seventeen. Her partner was nineteen or twenty. Young aristocratic girls,
hungry for breakfast, but only sipping berry drinks in the cafe.
Darnell got up. He walked forward to their table. He was conscious
of the bulge in his trousers but there was nothing he could do about it.
The two pairs of eyes gazed admiringly at his face. Then, both at the same
time, they flicked downward. To his crotch.
ÒIÕm hungry, but I canÕt eat,Ó Darnell said. ÒDo you mind if I sit with
you?Ó
One of the senoritas smiled. ÒWeÕre hungry too,Ó she said. ÒBut we
find we can only drink, it is so hot.Ó
Darnell sat down next to the older one. ÒYou should not just drink
berry juice,Ó he told her. ÒYou need something with protein in it too.Ó
The senorita smiled. She put her lips to the red straw, deliberately,
and let Darnell watch her sucking on it. Her young friend copied her.
Together they drank, languidly, and then she lifted her lips off the straw
and said to him, ÒYou must be American. There is no milk here in this
village. It is too hot for cows.Ó
Darnell, feeling bold, and feeling an urgent tightness and pain in his
trousers, gazed past the senoritaÕs face at her tits. They were large,
ample. Twin cones pressing outward toward him like peaks on luscious
young mountains. The senorita caught his gaze. She moved. Her breasts
moved within the tightness of her long dress.
ÒAmericans are inventive, are they not?Ó the older senorita asked
the younger. She smiled and nodded.
After a few minutes of conversation they rose from the table. They
rose together, and Darnell left bills on their table to pay for all three of
them. They went out from the cafe into the heat. They strolled down the
street together. They paused at a stall. Darnell bought the girls small
candy skulls made by an Indian woman. The girls admired the skulls, then
put them in their mouths and ate them.
ÒIÕm staying at the hotel,Ó Darnell said. He pointed. The girls
nodded. They hailed a cab and it took them the short distance to the hotel.
The man behind the counter of the hotel looked up when they entered.
Darnell went over to him and handed him a $100.00 dollar bill.
ÒI have visitors,Ó Darnell said to the man behind the counter. ÒI am
not to be disturbed.Ó The man nodded. The girls pretended not to notice
the exchange.
They went up a flight of steps together. The hotel had an elevator
but it was out of order. They arrived on the third floor of the hotel. They
went into DarnellÕs room. The girls crossed the room and paused at the
window. It was a big, open window, with a view of the town and the
airport, sloping away from them down the side of the mountain. The hotel
was quiet. There were not many guests at this time of day. The senorita
who was 19, who was named Mercedes, smiled at the 17-year-old, who
was named Sophia. She pulled at the windowÕs curtain and drew it across
the open space, closing off the view of the town. Sophia turned toward
Darnell. She smiled at him and tossed back her long hair, her long silky
black hair. With hands both tentative and sure, eager and yet hesitant, she
flicked open the top button of her blouse, that was attached to and part of
her long, colorful skirt.
It was gorgeous. There was no other way Darnell could describe it.
He got the girls out of their clothing, out of their modest ankle-length
skirts, and they got him out of his casual American traveller khakis. They
liberated him from his too-tight pants. He felt himself freed, undone, and
he loved the feeling of it, loved how he could extend himself and feel his
thickness and his length, wobbling suddenly in the hot air of his room.
They collapsed on his bed. They did not slide under the covers, as one
might have done in America. Instead they pulled back the bedcover and
sought coolness from the white sheets. Darnell felt himself fondled; felt
their slim fingers run gracefully over his hardness. They appraised him
with their touch. It was not the touch of Jacinta, so meek and unsure. It
was, instead, the practised touch of young fingers that knew what they
were seeking, and were pleased by what they found.
For his part, Darnell sought also. He sought and found. He was
impressed by their naked young tits, by their softness and ampleness. He
enjoyed teasing their nipples. He savored their slim flat bellies, under
their tits. He played with his finger in each of their belly buttons, the
place where they had been separated from the womb of their mother and
would, in time, swell as their mother had swollen. He felt further down,
below their bellies. He felt between their legs, where their lips promised
satisfaction.
Darnell lay on his back in the bed, feeling their hands groping his
manhood. He pressed his lips to theirs. He ran his hands over their soft
young bodies. He wanted to mount one of them but he knew he would not
survive that; he would wind up spending, pleasuring one at the expense of
the other. And so, in a civilized voice, as if proposing a game of cards,
Darnell said the following.
ÒI do not wish to spend yet,Ó Darnell said to the two girls. ÒI have
brought a whip. Let us play with it awhile. It will pass the time without
causing me to spill myself.Ó
The girls smiled. The older one smiled broadly and the younger one
smiled sheepishly, as if slightly confused by his proposal.
ÒA whip?Ó the older one asked. ÒYou have one here in the room?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Darnell told her. He fondled her pussy lips as he spoke to her.
Easily, gently, delving between them with his fingers, and feeling the
other girl also, in the same way. For their part, they were passing
maddening fingers up and down his cock, like little mice exploring a flag
pole.
ÒHow would one use such a thing?Ó the younger girl asked. Darnell
turned to her.
ÒIt is used on the bottom,Ó he said. Sophia gasped. But her fingers
did not leave his cock. Instead she stroked him more briskly, as if to
encourage him.
ÒYes I have heard of such things,Ó Mercedes said. ÒOne bends over,
does one not? Bends over and presents. Yes that is the word, I think. And
then the whip is used on her. On her bottom.Ó
ÒRight,Ó Darnell said. ÒIt would allow us to be naked, and to enjoy
each otherÕs nudity. And to experience emotion. But I would not cum. You
would gasp and shout, just as if you are having an orgasm, but since I
would be using a whip on you, instead of my penis, I would remain hard.Ó
ÒIt is a pleasant thought,Ó Mercedes said. She lifted her head
slightly and looked past Darnell at Sophia. ÒWhat do you think?Ó she asked
the younger girl. ÒWould you like to try it? Americans are so inventive.Ó
ÒThen after I whip you, after we have enjoyed the day, I will give
you milk,Ó Darnell proposed.
ÒI would like to try it,Ó Sophia said, in a small voice. ÒWill it
hurt?Ó
Darnell stroked the wettening lips of the girlÕs cunt. ÒIt must
necessarily hurt a little.Ó
ÒOh, but they will hear us!Ó Sophia said. She glanced over her
shoulder at the curtained window, with no pane in it, through which the
heated outside air passed into the room.
ÒI have a gag also,Ó Darnell said. He said it casually, fondling the
girl in her cunt as he said it. With his other hand he fondled Mercedes.
She twisted on the bed from the pressure of his fingers.
Downstairs, in the heat of the lobby, the man who had been paid
$100.00 began to hear a curious sound. It was the distant sound of
leather. It sounded as if it were striking something soft, like the flank of
a young foal. But the man was not aware of any horses tied near the hotel.
Yet the smacking continued. Smack! Smack! Smack! The man stepped out
from behind his desk. He went to the front door of his hotel. He gazed out
into the street. He saw an old Volvo, sitting in the dusty street, but he did
not see any horses.
Smack! Smack! Smack! The man listened closely. He stepped
outside. He glanced up at the window, on the third floor, where the Yanqui
was staying. As he stood there in the heat he thought he heard the sound
of whimpering. The man shook his head. He knew now what he was
hearing. But the girls were Spanish, not Indian like himself. He did not
interfere in the affairs of the Spanish.
Upstairs, in the heat of the room, Mercedes lay on the cool sheet of
the bed. She watched as Sophia, her hands tied to an unused iron radiator,
received the whip on her bottom. Smack! Smack! Smack! went the
leather. Sophia gazed back behind herself, her mouth tied tightly with a
gag. It was a black strip of cloth, tied rudely and with seeming roughness
across her sweet aristocratic mouth. The whip, black as the gag, left red
marks on her bottom. The girl squirmed. There were tears in her eyes.
Her long dark hair tossed silkily, first one way, then the other, a veil of
hair passing to and fro across her naked slender back.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Darnell delivered the whip strokes with
firm precision. His muscles were taut, hard. Hard like his cock, which
wobbled stiffly and unspent. On the bed Mercedes gazed with hot eyes at
DarnellÕs penis. He was beautiful, perfect, a God with a dagger between
his legs. She stroked herself as she watched, stroked herself between her
legs, savoring the sight of him and what he would do to her with his
dagger when they had enjoyed the emotions produced by the whip.
As the day passed toward noon Darnell finished whipping Sophia. It
had been a hard whipping, slowly delivered but seemingly without end. He
untied her and she collapsed in his arms. He carried her to the bed. He
tossed her on it, perhaps just as the Spanish once tossed Indian maidens
that theyÕd raped. Immediately Mercedes was upon her, soothing her,
kissing and caressing her. Darnell suggested a pot of cream for the girlÕs
behind. Mercedes got up and went to her purse and found some. She
applied it to the girlÕs ass. It was red-streaked, wealed and lightly
bruised. The girl flinched as she felt the cool cream spread upon her flesh.
Her tears ran more profusely down her cheeks. She reached up to her gag
to uncover her mouth but Darnell insisted she keep it on. He did not want
the man downstairs to hear her sobbing.
In the heat of the afternoon, Mercedes took her place at the radiator.
Darnell tied the gag across her lips. Then he began with her, laving her
bottom with the whip as if it were a tongue of leather, sharply applied.
He sat down this time, on a wooden chair. As he sat bare-assed on the
chair he could feel his balls bulging heavily between his legs. They were
full; it was difficult to sit with them looming so potently between his
legs. It was like trying to sit down with a big water balloon jammed
between oneÕs thighs, trying, indeed, to sit on the balloon, and it was
uncomfortable. Darnell shifted in his chair. It did not help. Only by giving
the girls the milk he had promised them would he relieve himself of his
burden.
But it was not time for that yet. Darnell lashed Mercedes with the
whip. His stiff cock made a wobbling display of itself each time he swung
his arm, a tuning fork looking for water in the midst of this hot room, in
this dusty village. Sophia lay on the bed. The gag was out of her mouth
now, and in the mouth of Mercedes. She lay on her belly, her hands softly
patting her bottom, examining it, wondering at the strange sensations that
the whip had produced in it.
Downstairs, the man could once again hear the sound that was like a
horse being beaten. Now the flesh-cracking sound was like that of a young
mare, with more fat on the flanks than the foal had possessed. He licked
his lips and shifted his stance as he stood behind the counter. He fingered
the $100.00 bill that the Yanqui had given him. He told himself that if
they were Indian girls, he would have gathered the men of the village,
damn the bill, and he would have taken them upstairs. They would have
dealt with the Yanqui. And they would have dealt with the girls too.
He imagined it in his mind. He imagined the threesome caught in the
throes of their lovemaking. He saw, in his mindÕs eye, the Yanqui lying
naked on the bed, lying there loving the girls, when he and the men walked
in. He would be handsome, and beautiful. His body would not bear the
marks of years of labor, and suffering, as so many male bodies in this
village did. They would gaze with wonder at his beautiful naked body and
then they would take out their knives. The girls would scream. They
would deal with the Yanqui. They would cut off that part of himself that
gave him such urgings, such longings, that he could not stay for a day in
their village without satisfying his lusts. And then they would deal with
the girls. With the girls who sat in the cafe, where the Indians could not
afford to eat, and drank cold berry-flavored drinks as they watched the
Indians struggling outside in the heat and the dust. God damn these girls,
who were so pampered that even in this heat they sought more heat,
applied to their bottoms! He imagined their swinging, naked young tits,
their undulating bare hips. He and his fellows would show those girls
what a whip could do! They would not give them the strange whipping that
the Yanqui gave them, teasing them and marking them but not ultimately
damaging them. No. They would show the girls how an Indian laborer
could use a whip; how it was meant to be used, to strip the hide off of an
animal, to teach it a lesson! They would uncover the girlsÕ soft skin, strip
them of it, take them down to the bare, raw, palpitating mass that lay
underneath, the blood and fat exposed, the skin stripped away like
clothing. The girls would bear those marks forever. They would
remember; they would not wish to play such games after that!
In the evening, as the sun set, Darnell relieved himself. He fucked
Sophia. She was the youngest of the two and she reminded him of Jacinta.
He made her wear the gag in her mouth as he fucked her, so the man
downstairs would not become annoyed by her screaming. Afterward he lay
with Mercedes. She kissed him and licked him until he became hard again.
Then he fucked her, giving her in turn the milk he had promised. When both
girls had been filled by his liquid he helped them dress. He patted their
bellies.
ÒIn nine months, perhaps you will give milk,Ó Darnell said. He
passed his hand lovingly over the girlsÕ tits. He had not bothered with a
condom, or asked the girls about birth control. He knew he would not see
them again. He was only visiting. They smiled at him. They did not say
anything in the darkness of the room. When they were finished dressing
they went out. Darnell kissed them goodbye at the doorway to his room,
but he did not accompany them. He was spent, exhausted. He wished only
to lie in his bed, on the cool sheets, and sleep. In the morning perhaps he
would see them again, at the cafe. Or perhaps not.
The girls went down the flight of steps by themself. They felt
satisfied. They had enjoyed the Yanqui. They had learned new lessons
from him. As they passed the man downstairs, the man standing behind
the desk, he noted that they moved with a slight awkwardness. They did
not look at him. They were Spanish, he was only an Indian. Out in the
street, near the stall where Darnell had bought the girls the candy skulls,
their eyes were attracted by something they had seen before, but had not
previously paid attention to. It was a whip. It hung in the window of a
tanner. The girls went inside and purchased it.
ÒSenoritas, have you bought a horse?Ó the tanner asked the girls. ÒI
can sell you a bit and bridle and saddle also. Why not get the whole gear?
Everything you will need. I will sell it to you lovely senoritas for a
discount.Ó
ÒNo,Ó Mercedes answered, smiling at Sophia as she spoke. ÒJust the
whip. We do not need the rest. Just the whip.Ó
The tanner stared after the girls as they left his shop. They moved
with liquid grace. The whip swung from Mercedes hand as she walked.
Sophia seemed to regard the whip with a kind of awkward fear. He
watched them pass out into the dark, dusty night, and he wondered.
Candles glimmered in another part of the town. There were many of
them, and each one gave off a special scent: cinnamon, clove, orange, lime.
There were scents of spring and scents of autumn mingled in the hot air.
Beyond lay the darkness of the dirt street and the mud-tinged, cinderblock
houses, with their aluminum sheet metal roofs.
Krull sat in the circle of light formed by the candles. The ancient
Indian handed him a pipe of peyote.
ÒSmoke,Ó he told the young man. ÒIt will give you insight.Ó
Krull took the pipe. He inhaled. He looked at the old Indian man. ÒDo
you see her?Ó he asked as he exhaled the smoke of the peyote.
ÒIn a little while,Ó the Indian said. He took the pipe back from Krull.
He puffed on it, slowly.
The candles burned lower. The darkness outside encroached more
deeply into the cinderblock home as some of the candles, exhausting their
wax, expired. The old Indian lifted a veined, gnarled hand.
ÒI see a bird,Ó he said. ÒShe is... riding it.Ó
Krull lifted his head. He had smoked more of the peyote and he was
drowsy now. His eyes were red.
ÒIt is an airplane,Ó Krull told the old Indian. ÒShe is coming on an
airplane.Ó The old Indian nodded.
ÒI have never ridden on an airplane,Ó he said. ÒHowever I have seen
birds, flying in the sky, and the old tales tell of a virgin being brought
through the sky.Ó
ÒShe is beautiful,Ó Krull said. ÒDo you see her beauty? I do not wish
to sacrifice her.Ó
The old Indian put the peyote to his lips. He inhaled, exhaled. ÒShe
is the one,Ó he said at last. ÒBut I sense danger. She must arrive pure. I
sense that the bird is handling her.Ó
KrullÕs eyes widened, narrowed. ÒThey are having a party. I was told
of this. But Kyla, she is like the girlÕs chaperone. She assured me that she
would arrive pure. But--Ó Krull paused. He reached for the pipe. He took
it from the old man and sucked on it. ÒBut perhaps I wish for her not to
arrive pure,Ó he said, exhaling.
The ancient Indian mused, nodded. ÒShe will arrive pure,Ó he said.
ÒShe is only being handled. She is very beautiful. The bird loves her
beauty, but he will not use his beak upon her. He thinks she is too...
young.Ó
ÒYes she is young. She must be young,Ó Krull said. ÒThere are no old
virgins in America. No beautiful ones, anyway.Ó
ÒShe is the proper choice,Ó the old Indian said. ÒBlonde, just as the
ancient legends said would be needed. Blonde with white skin.Ó He looked
at Krull. ÒNow I will show you the ancient rites, and teach you the
necessary principles of our ancestors. Then the drought will be broken,
and we will have rain.Ó
ÒThere is something I must tell you,Ó Krull said. ÒShe is pure,
between her legs. But she has felt the male penis in her bottom. Once.Ó
The old Indian looked at Krull. He frowned. ÒIn her bottom?Ó he
asked. ÒWhy would a man put himself into her bottom? Does he expect her
to give him a child through her butt hole?Ó
Krull shook his head. He laughed. ÒYou do not understand,Ó he said.
ÒAmericans have sex, but they do not do it for the same reasons as we do.
They do not do it to have children. It was done for pleasure. Does this
spoil her?Ó
The old Indian gazed into the candles. ÒNo,Ó he said at last. ÒNo it
does not spoil her. She was fucked in the style of a man. She was not
fucked in the style of a woman.Ó He shook his head. ÒThe Yanquis. They
are strange. They have a perfectly fine girl, with a cunt, and they choose
to fuck her in the ass.Ó
ÒIt is lucky for us,Ó Krull said. ÒPerhaps it was the will of God. So
she would remain a virgin. Perhaps the man was a fag whom she met, and
he preferred her for that which she shared with men, rather than for what
she had only in common with women.Ó
ÒYes,Ó the Indian said. He nodded. ÒYes it was the will of God, and it
proves to me that she is the one to save us from the drought. She is young
and ready. She would not be a virgin anymore but God sent a fag to
deflower her, and he took her in the ass, in the style of a man. Thanks be
to God for saving our virgin, so that she can save our people from the
drought.Ó
ÒThanks be to God,Ó Krull murmured.
Meanwhile, on the plane that the old Indian mistook for a bird, Kyla
was pulling her panties back on. Jacob grinned at the way she winced
when the fabric of her panties skimmed over her well-spanked ass.
ÒOooh! It is like a double spanking, having to put these panties back
on, now that my bottomÕs sore,Ó Kyla said frankly.
ÒYes,Ó Jacob said. ÒYou will now, I suppose, enjoy having the panties
wedge themselves in your ass. For it will allow your asscheeks to be free
of the irritation that they provide.Ó
Kyla wiggled her hips, impulsively. She shivered at the wet-
cheeked, red-bottomed state that JacobÕs hand had reduced her to. As her
hips trembled she felt her panties draw in toward her bottomcrack. She
reached down to her hips. She re-tied the drawstrings on her bikini. Then
she reached back, reluctantly, to yank her bikini out of her ass.
The young womanÕs tongue ran across her lips. She looked at Jacob.
She hated asking the question that now popped into her mind. After all,
she was a professional stewardess! This was a flight on which she was
being paid to fly. Looking at the president of the airline, she asked,
ruefully, ÒSir, may I please let my behind hang out of my panties?Ó
Jacob laughed at the girl with the lovely, uptilted naked tits. He
gazed at her tits and he looked at the svelte smoothness of her belly
beneath, stretching down to where her disheveled panties ringed her hips.
He watched as her belly rose slightly and fell. The navel in the flat,
gently rounded flesh drew nearer to him by a centimeter or so, then glided
back away from him.
ÒYes. Alright,Ó Jacob said, looking at the girlÕs belly, contemplating
her womb. ÒYou may let your raw, lovely red ass hang out of your panties.Ó
ÒOh, thank you!Ó Kyla gushed. She bent low and kissed JacobÕs cock.
Her long hair spilled over his groin and down between his legs, tickling his
inner thighs and his balls.
Jacob tensed. KylaÕs lips upon him were like liquid pleasure. Her
lips sucked, lightly, admiringly, as her tongue played wicked games in his
pee hole.
ÒOh! You are going to cum!Ó Kyla announced. Abruptly she lifted her
head. Jacob looked at his dick. He felt abject, defeated, yet so aroused!
Disappointment came into KylaÕs eyes. She had loved teasing him. Yet
even when she had been lying over him she could feel how close to
spending he was. Now her kiss, given without thinking, had taken him over
the edge. Kyla reached down between JacobÕs legs. She clasped him. She
felt his pulsing in her small hand. Holding him was like holding a lightning
rod, charged with the electricity of a breaking storm. She had no place to
aim him and so she directed him at the back of the seat in front of him.
She might have sucked him, but instead she decided to be detached,
professional. There was a certain wonderful decadence in that.
ÒNo!Ó Jacob gasped. He was the president of the airline, and even had
been nicknamed, by his foes, ÔThe Terror of the SkiesÕ. Yet now he was
like a little boy, whose mommie was about to relieve him of the
embarrassment of an erection.
It was Jacinta, in her innocuous, innocent way, who saved the day.
ÒOhhhh! I canÕt find my panties!Ó she announced. She said it loudly, and
with dejection in her voice. Kyla turned. Her long brown hair swished
across her back and curled briefly, in a kind of flinging motion, across her
naked breasts. Still holding Jacob, she asked,
ÒYour panties?Ó
ÒYes! Everyone can see my bush!Ó Jacinta answered. She bent down,
giving a glorious view of her naked ass to JacobÕs lust-filled eyes. He
could see his hand prints on her behind. ÒOook! Here they are! They got
kicked under this seat!Ó Jacinta cried. Hastily she retrieved her panties.
She stepped into them and, like some child changing hastily by the edge of
a swimming pool, she pulled them up. By the time she was re-tying her
drawstrings Jacob realized that the change of focus, from the state of his
penis to little JacintaÕs lost panties, had allowed him to recover.
Kyla smiled. Quickly she let go of Jacob. She stared for a moment,
to make sure that none of him came spurting out. When she could see that
he would not, in fact, splatter himself onto the back of the seat in front of
him, she said: ÒPerhaps I should get some Man Delay. IÕll rub it on you so
you can last longer.Ó
ÒYes,Ó Jacob agreed. Again he marvelled at how he, as a powerful
male, had been reduced so quickly to subservience. Had God planned it that
way, perhaps? Even Hercules could not have withstood the grace and
beauty of the two young girls who now stood beside him. Not forever,
anyway. It was humbling to know that, in the end, the girls would outlast
him. They would end this flight still capable of more orgasms, if they
were needed. But he was sure to end it spent and exhausted. ÒYes. Get the
balm,Ó Jacob said. He looked up at Kyla. ÒI will be... grateful,Ó he said.
Kyla turned to Jacinta. The girl was fixing her panties. Kyla said to
her, softly, ÒGo get the Man Delay, honey. ItÕs the white tube. I think
Glenda has it. Then you can spread it over JacobÕs dick for him!Ó
ÒNo!Ó Jacob croaked. ÒShe can get it but I want you to put it on me,
Kyla. Her silly, childish hands will make me cum! You will be able to put
it on me with skilled fingers. You will know how to touch me so that the
very process of putting it on doesnÕt relieve me of the very thing weÕre
trying to save.Ó
ÒAlright,Ó Kyla laughed. ÒBut IÕm going to tell you something now
that will perhaps make you wish youÕd lost yourself, a moment ago. When
Jacinta and I stayed at the cabin, we didnÕt take our pills. And the men
didnÕt wear condoms. Afterward, I had to hand out RU-486, to make sure
nobody left pregnant. Except to little Jacinta here, who is still a virgin.
But now I have some special news for you.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó Jacob gasped. Was this lovely woman standing beside him
pregnant? How lewd it would be, for him to be playing sex games with a
woman who had already been made pregnant by another man!
Kyla sensed JacobÕs alarm. She smiled. Half an hour ago he had been
all-powerful. Now he was like putty in her hands. ÒYes,Ó Kyla said. ÒI
gave myself a test before boarding this flight. I peed into a little cup, you
know? And tested it. IÕm pregnant, Jacob. By John. I noticed you
admiring my belly a little while ago. ItÕs still flat, of course. IÕm only
about three days pregnant. But in fact you are toying with a woman who is
a new mother, who is going to give birth in nine months. I hope I donÕt
offend you by saying that. IÕm still young enough to have fun, in my
opinion. And IÕm not hurting baby or anything. But if you fuck me with
that penis of yours, you will in fact be bathing a baby with your sperm,
when you shoot it into my womb. I wonder if thatÕs a form of child
abuse?Ó
ÒGood God!Ó Jacob gasped.
ÒI have one more thing to tell you,Ó Kyla smiled. ÒJacinta, as IÕve
said, is a virgin. When you play with her please donÕt be rough with her.
You might accidentally tear her hymen. SheÕs in love with a man named
Krull and has promised to deliver herself to him as a virgin. IÕm going to
do all I can to make sure that happens. So, no matter how much you might
want to stick yourself into her, please donÕt. Also, in the case of Jacinta
as well as the other girls, none of them has taken their pills. They
wouldnÕt mind getting pregnant by you, or by Steve, since youÕre a
president and he soon may be. So if you donÕt want to get stuck with
twenty years of child support, be careful where you put yourself. And tell
Steve to be careful too!Ó
A younger man would have lost himself, hearing KylaÕs softly-
delivered words. Jacob was sure of that. Fortunately he was just able to
hold himself in as her sexy chat washed over him. Good God! One stew
pregnant, another a virgin, the others fertile, with nothing to keep them
from being with child save his own restraint! It was a lurid, wonderful
fantasy, suddenly too real, for Jacob was planning to retire, not to start a
new family! And he knew Steve had enough of the family life too: three
children, all young and growing and eating through his wallet like mice in
a round of cheese. Jacob trembled at the number of available wombs:
Adele, with her too-fragile, slim figure that would be obscenely distorted
by a first baby. Glenda, full-figured and ready for birthing, but still
caught up in being young, and with a tendency to stray, even into parties
like this one, even if enceinte. And Pam, with her big milk-urn breasts,
surely as ready as any of them to carry a child, yet like Glenda still young
and slim, and loving the chance to party. And finally there was Jacinta.
Immature, childish, still focused on her bottom as a center of erotic
desire because she had yet to feel anything up inside her cunt.
ÒAh, God!Ó Jacob groaned. Kyla reached down and touched his penis.
ÒIf you would really prefer to cum...Ó she said. She gave him a quick tug.
ÒN- No. ThatÕs fine,Ó Jacob said. ÒDonÕt pull on me, girl. I donÕt
want the cleaning lady to board the plane in Mexico and find my sperm all
over the floor.Ó
ÒOh thatÕs no trouble,Ó Kyla answered. Her voice was seductive. She
gave him another light tug. ÒIÕll clean up the mess.Ó Kyla reached up and
swept back her hair from her face, which had tumbled forward in a
luxurious mass. She tossed it over her shoulder, onto her back. She
smiled at Jacob. Her lips were wet, lightly parted. He could see the edges
of her teeth beyond her lips. ÒI know you are eager to spend,Ó Kyla told
Jacob. ÒGo ahead. I wonÕt love you any less just because youÕve lost your
erection. Spurt out your seed. Let me show you that I appreciate you, by
going cleaning up the mess for you. IÕve never seen your sperm and I would
like to. IÕll bet you have a lot of it and it is so bothersome, isnÕt it, to
have it all crammed into your balls? Give me a display of your manhood by
spurting it out right now. Spurt it over my fingers. Shoot it with virile
energy onto the back of that seat thatÕs in front of you. Make a big mess. I
will love getting down on my hands and knees and licking it up!Ó
ÒOh, shit!Ó Jacob cried. Just then little Jacinta saved him again.
She came down the aisle, waving the Man Delay. She cried out to Kyla that
Adele had given it to her, that the Asian was just finishing with Steve.
ÒHere it is!Ó Jacinta said happily. ÒAre you sure I canÕt put it on him?Ó
ÒNo, dear,Ó Kyla said. She took the Man Delay from the girl. She
winked at Jacob. ÒYou, sir, have more endurance than you realize,Ó she
complimented the president of the airline. ÒAny man who can hold out
after IÕve given him the third degree, yanking on his cock and begging him
to cum, is quite special.Ó Gently, and very slowly, Kyla squirted Man Delay
on JacobÕs penis. She began to spread it with her fingers.
ÒWhat a tease you are!Ó Jacob said to Kyla. He watched her work. It
had all been an incredible game, a mischievous game. How pleasurable it
was to be alternately helped and hindered by this woman, encouraged to
shoot one minute and then asked not to the next! He wished to spend all
the rest of his life this way, forever engorged, forever on the brink and
somehow saved each time. Saved by a virgin!
Jacinta giggled. ÒI like watching,Ó she said. The plane climbed
higher, circling now over the Gulf, and Jacob wished that it would fly
forever. But Jacinta, deep in her innermost thoughts, even as she laughed
at Jacob, was worried. For she knew that when the plane landed Krull
would be waiting for her.
30
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